The Game was on
And so the days went by and the work kept coming with the promise of that deposit that never came. 9 weeks into this adventure and we were broke in India and by Indian terms. Which in Western terms is really in deep shit. After 24 hours of non stop editing to hit a deadline Mr T, as I will call him from now on, was exhausted and sick. As was I. After a vomit-diarrea-fever-cold sweat extravaganza we decided it was time to go to the hospital. Yes honey, we were in the hospital in New Delhi, it is like nothing you have ever seen. It looks like a combination vintage store on La Brea Av. and a soup kitchen down on San Pedro street. I have never seen poor or sick like I saw in this place. As we walked into the Dr.s office Mr. T started to look faint and ran out of the office into the bathroom, barely making his run, he projectile vomited all over the bathroom door. The Dr. was taking my pulses, because in India they do 2 pulses, your veins and your arteries. He took one look at me, heard the vomiting down the hall, and said in a firm voice, You must be admitted at once!!! This is dengue fever. Very very dangerous. You do not have much time and you will need a blood transfusion. WHAT!? OK, that was the scariest news I had gotten since my Mom came out of the closet in 95. Next thing I knew, we were rushed from the Dr's office to the emergency room to a private room and before I knew it we were laying in a bed with an iv up our arm. The room had no windows, it was like a 1942 mid war hospital room, something right out of a movie. Karan , my dear friend, came in. He was worried about us but had some awkward news to share. He said; Be very careful with what they put in your iv, these people are very good friends with hospital. they want to steal your stuff! I heard them talking in the office! Don't say I told you, but be very careful, they want to get rid of you and not pay. Mr T was half gone but his eyes widened with disbelief. for a split second. I felt sick, and it had nothing to do with the dengue fever. Now we were broke ass, sick and persecuted foreigners laying in a hospital room with no windows to escape from. All right, I thought, this has gone far enough I think? I looked at Mr. T and said; We are not sleeping in this place, so you better work and get all the fluids you can because we are going home honey. He looked at me and fell right back to sleep. The door opened slowly, the nurse walked in with a big smile on her face, it was right out of a David Lynch film, she was carrying a tray full of needles. She lifted my arm, made sure the iv was in place and started to prepare a needle. I looked at her and gasped, what is that? I said. All she said in her broken English was, Dr. say this good for you, thank you please. Thank you please. Noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!