Knee POP : Some basic information of getting to doctors office in Amreecan village

Knee POP or in other words I popped my knee.

So it is not a mystery to anybody that I need to lose weight. Ever since I came to the US I have lost 10 pounds. I need to lose at the very least 37 pounds more. This is not for vanity. This is because of the fact that I am overweight This is also because of the fact that both my parents have serious heart problems and if I do not start seriously taking care of myself now, the inevitable will happen.

Now to less morbid and slightly fun stuff. (Maybe not that fun but interesting fun). You know how there are all these notes and posts all over about weird Mathematical connections to different incidents of famous people or incidents in general. Well I am not so famous but still here goes.

• In March 2011, I burnt the back portion of my right lower leg. I was in Goa at that time planning to go for water gliding. That never happened.
• In March 2013, I was in D in a hotel and I slipped and fell while coming out of the bathroom. I twisted my right ankle. Later I found out I have torn my ligament and had to get physiotherapy for it.
• In April(not March)2015 I am doing Zumba. As I said I need to lose weight. My knee suddenly goes pop and from the next day I cannot walk. And yes I cannot do Zumba now for atleast 4 months.And when I was just starting to enjoy an exercise.

Notice the pattern? I will be super careful in March 2017. I will not get off my butt. But with the given trend, chances are that my chair will fall under me.

Now to the part which I hope actually helps new people coming to Amreecan villages.  How to go about getting a doctor to see your leg(or arm/or head/or stomach/any general ailment).

1.The first thing that I did(and this part I did correctly) is go to the medical insurance site(or call them up)for a listing of doctors(in my case sports orthopaedic specialist)around the neighbourhood.
2. Then I tried calling up the individual offices of the doctors and none of them had any opening till end of April and all of them suggested that I should get myself checked at an urgent care facility first. So lesson number 2 is if you need immediate attention with anything (ANYTHING that is not serious to the extent that you are not dying) then go to an urgent care facility. And yes this urgent care facility must fall under the approved list of places for your medical insurance company. Call them up before hand to find out till when they are open. It is not like all places are open 24x7. If you are dying or have serious medical emergency always call 911.
3. If you live alone and don't have people around to help keep any cab company number handy. Uber or Local Cab Numbers. For people in Philly and KOP area I suggest Philly Main Line Cab. They have excellent service and are highly reliable.
4. Go to the urgent care and fill up all the forms and hand over your insurance card and be sure to carry an ID Proof.
5. The doctors then had me checked and in my case it was not too serious. I was advised rest, elevation, ice and compression. I was given IbuProfen to be taken after 6 hours.I was also asked to keep off my foot. Anything else that is needed including medicines or other accessories( like knee caps) will be provided by the urgent care and everything should be handled through your insurance.
6. In my case the attending Dr Kathleen (who was the most gorgeous woman I have seen in my life)also adviced me to get an orthopaedic appointment now only for a later date. If I dont need it I can always go cancel it. But I will under no circumstances get an appointment at a specialists immediately. And if I do get an appointment once then it is easier and faster for me to get an appointment the next time. Do not ask me the logic behind this. Apparently this is how it works atleast in the state of Pennsylvania


I think I have covered the most important parts.


Now I need to give a speech. Always wanted to do this but never won an award. But publicly writing about knee injury gave me this fantastic opportunity.

Firstly I want to thank my amazing roommate PNT for being so concerned and amazing and opening doors and cooking for me and cleaning all the dishes. I am really sorry PNT that I abandoned you.

Secondly to CGNC. I know you don't know about my blog. But I will make you read it at some point. :P . You barely know me and have already helped me so much. By just being there when I needed company the most. By showing me Philly in a whole new light. By being the sweetest person ever to come and fix my laptop. By coming over and getting the perfect knee braces and medicines, By taking me to the emergency room and waiting there for me without a second thought. By buying me that sandwich from WAWA after we were done.By staying past your bedtime. And most importantly for giving me the time when you have so little time to spend with you know who. Just for being one of the most decent people I have met in my life. And also for not getting irritated with the number of "Sorry" that I keep on telling you.

To MMS for scolding the life out of me for going to Zumba lessons. I know you care and I love you.

To KB. You always make me laugh. And you actually thought of flying down from Florida. I mean seriously !!

And lastly to ASP and VP. I do not want to thank them. I just want to hug them and tell them that I am blessed that they are close to me when I am so far from my city. I am glad that ASP can actually bully me into coming over and pack and bundle me up to her house in an hour. And to ASP I just want to say "What would I have done if you did not scare me in 3rd grade ?"

My Experience in an Amreecan Village Part 3 : There is water in the kitchen.

Thursday morning I wake up an hour early than usual thanks to my roommate's "Aaaiyaa. C. Wake Up. WAKE UP !" As it is I am having a little trouble adjusting to all this day-light saving thing. My body does not know that 7 AM is now actually 8 AM.  That is another thing about this country. DSL. Sun goes down at 8 PM now. Crazy !! Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. I wake up to "Aaaiyaa. C. Wake Up. WAKE UP !"

I get out of my room rubbing my eyes and see that she is in one piece. A few hair out of place. But then she was sleeping. I was expecting atleast a few horrible cuts. Otherwise waking me up at 7:30 AM in the morning(which is technically 6:30 AM) is just cruel. I try to make sense of the situation and ask her as politely as I can manage " What the?? Are you ok?? Why were you screaming?" She points to the general direction of the Kitchen and says " There is water in the kitchen". At this point I am thinking "Ofcourse there is water in the kitchen. That is where we keep our Brita fliter jug." So I try again(politely) and this time I use the ever expressive "Huh ?" (which reflected my innermost feeling of concern that she might have lost her marbles). She points again towards the kitchen and tells me "Just go look.Please."

It is 7:30 AM in the morning(which is technically 6:30 AM)and I was not wearing my glasses and I was wearing my favourite fluffy pink socks. I step into the kitchen and immediately freeze. Out of shock yes. But also because I was ankle deep in freezing cold water. Inside the kitchen. I look at PNT (the roommate) and say "There is water in the kitchen." She replies "I know."

At this point we wake up our third roommate. PHS comes out. She is unusually calm as if finding freezing water in the kitchen is a regular affair! She tells me to call the maintainance emergency number.  Every thing she is telling me I only assimilate half of it. Because I am barely awake. I get rid of my pink fluffy socks and call the maintainance guy.

There is a knock on the door exactly after 15 minutes. I open the door and the 6 foot 6 inch Mike is standing there. He smiles and says "You girls have a situation at hand it seems." And then there is a mini invasion. A very efficient mini invasion. Mike and I dont know her name but let us call her Molly works efficiently. They know what to do. They don't want any help. And they clean everything. The entire kitchen. Including carpets.They actually secretly make me slightly grateful that our Kitchen was flooding

I could even get ready for work. It was only when me and PNK were leaving that I went over to Mike and asked him if he needed something because we were all leaving. He said "OK." Then it occured to him and he asked "Are you all leaving?" I said "Yes" He just said that he needed to leave the blower inside so that our place dries up and might come in later to move it to the hall. And then he smiled and said "Have a nice day girls"

The blower is still sitting in our hall. Because our hall is still wet. It is nice having it there actually. Standing and opening the keys of the door feels like a mini Bollywood movie. With your hair blowing and your skirt flowing.

Happy Holi 2015

Holi, the festival of colours. Spring to me, like most Indian begins with Holi. So Holi literally brings colour, not only in the form of "abir" and "rong" but in nature, our smiles, our feelings and our very lives

Last year I was at a friend of a friend's rooftop near Golpark. The previous night the four of us, PB1, KB and SB stayed over at 22. We ate chinese from Mandarin and PB1's special "Death By Chocolate Brownie" which was laced with something more than chocolate. ( READ LOVE). On the day of Holi, we got ourselves some colours, called over RB(KB's brother) begged him to be our driver and ended up in the friend of a friends rooftop. There was an open house(rooftop?) Holi Party. There was every possible arrangements that a Holi party might need. Food, bhaang, sweets and ofcourse colours. PB1 and SB refused to play colours but the rest of us went upstairs and proceeded to drench ourselves with colours, smearing each other's faces and then comparing who looks the most colourful(read unrecognizable). It was the first Holi I forced myself to celebrate after almost two years. The previous two years were not the best for me and I did not feel particularly celebratory. And I had an inkling that I will not be around for the next year.

And this year, my Holi was white and grey. It snowed here. So the weather and me are both a little glum. Everyone is hoping that this is the last snow of the season and soon there will be spring.While most people here are asking each other "When will Spring come ?" I am reminded of  that famous line by Gabbar Singh "Holi kab hai ? Kab hai Holi ?? "

Kolkata : Is it my city anymore?

There is not a second passed in this village that I do not think of Kolkata. To me Kolkata is a living, breathing, growing entity. A part of me. Kolkata is mine. It makes me feel at home. But is this city really mine anymore ?

Sitting at a late night diner on Sunday night I read two very upsetting news.

1. BBC took an interview of the Nirbhaya rapists. And they, without any sign of remorse states that it obviously always is the victims fault. I do not think I was surprised. The fact that I was not surprised was what bothered me. A lot of people's reaction I gauged was that of outrage as to why BBC even interviewed these creatures ( I do not find it in me to call these humans. ) To me the interview was necessary. It proves that monsters do not repent. And right now there are a million of men who are thinking the exact same thing. That it is infact the girls fault. Our country does not know how to protect their women. And it is true.

2.The second was much closer home. My cousin was harassed in the middle of Rashbehari Avenue at 10:30 on Sunday night. I am putting her exact words here.

" Ei sahar take nijer sahar bole bhabte khub lajja lagche ajke...Time raat 10:30 Rashbehari Avenue .... Saharer byasto tomo rasta gulir modhye ekta...
Metro theke neme wait korchi behalar gari pawar jonyo... Onyodiner tulanay janbahon kom seta hoy robibar bole noyto biyebarir season bole... Ekti Otyonto obhodro lok... Pichone theke eshe nongra katha o akar ingit korte laglo.... Bolai bahulya j tini prokitistho chilen naa..ei nongrami chollo pray 5 minute....chitkar kore protibaad korate ashe pasher kichu lok moja dekhlen thik e kintu ekjon o egiye elen na sahajya korte... Thik jani na era ki nitantoi ekta bicchinno ghatana... Naki etai ajkal swabhabik byapar...
Jaihok amar bhagya sahay j ami loktike tariye okkhoto obosthay bari firechi... Kintu sabar bhagya eto ta sahay na o hote pare...
Tomader sabbaike ghatanate jananor uddwesho .... Sabai sabdhan... Kolkata kintu khub unsafe hoye geche..."


After knowing about this my first reaction was anger. How dare the man ?

But then I remembered something an NRI Bengali man I met randomly at a movie theatre, of about 40 told me when I was whining about how much I miss my city and how much I want to go back.

He asked me with a smile. " Are you sure the city is yours ? A city where a female Chief Minister punishes by transferring a female Police Officer because the Police Officer went out of her way to catch the rapists of a shameful rape in the middle of the city is pretty much sending out a clear signal to the women of the city that they are not needed."

I could give him no good answer. Because no matter how much I try to defend my city the city has done nothing to protect her women. And right then, sitting at a diner seven seas away in a small sleepy town at 11:30 pm at night, I was feeling completely safe. Yes I had my friend with me. But the truth is even if i did not have my friend with me in there, I would have felt safe. I knew I could call a cab and that would pretty much ensure that I reach home safe. The cabs are constantly monitored by police radios. And there are police cars at the darkest nooks and alleyways patrolling. And at the same time even if my friend was there with me sitting at Hobby Centre in Park Street at 11:30 at night and I had to go back home in a cab, I would feel unsafe and nervous in my own city. Or maybe the city truly is not mine anymore.

My Experience in Amreecan Village Part 2 : McDonald's Our Food Your Question.

This particular experience belongs to not me directly but my oldest friend ASP and particularly her husband VP.

Last weekend I went to visit them in another Amreecan village by the name of Parsippany in New Jersey. Now VP has always been the biggest fan of McD back in Bangalore. When I would visit them in Bangalore, me and ASP would spend a considerable time charting  which restaurant to try out. VP would invariably suggest McD. It is best to mention here that VP is a Vegetarian but eats Eggs(I guess that makes him an Eggetarian) and the McEgg back in India was his favourite.

So now they are in NJ and the true patron that VP is he takes ASP to McD. ASP orders her standard burger and VP goes up to the pimply teenager taking the order and with a lot of anticipation asks " What are your vegetarian options? " The guy at the counter solemnly replies "Fries," VP tries to be a little more clear and says "Like to eat ?". The guy without any change of expression replies "Fries." VP tries one more time. "As in real food ?" The guy replied "Fries". And after thinking for a couple of minutes adds "And Coke."

At this point ASP suggests VP to take the burger without the meat. What comes are two burger buns with four pieces of fried onions in the middle. So I guess the question is "Where is the food ?"

And I have to add this photo of ASP and VP I took at the Dover Station when they came to see me off in the freeze rain. I adore it. Two people who are simply just made for each other.

SEASONS' GREETINGS with warm wishes from an Amreecan Village

Christmas and New Year's are definetely cumulatively, the biggest celebration in this part of the world. Everything is lit up brightly(because electricity obviously costs nothing) and there is this general cheerfulness around that makes even a cynical person such as myself smile at strangers.
This time around most people from my part of the village have not been very happy. They have been crying about the fact that it has been a warm winter and this has not been a White Christmas. I have had my managers, friends, roommates, acquaintances tell with great nostalgia and a smile hovering on their lips, as to how last year the winter was truly bad. Apparently it was the coldest winter recorded in Philly for over 20 years. I personally had a great time. I went over to Pittsburgh and West Virginia for Christmas. The giant Christmas tree and the street all lit up reminded me of Kolkata around Durga Pujo. The only thing is here most people are homebound during the festivities. They stay home, put on Christmas jammies, eat enormous amount of pies and spend it with family and friends. Back in India festivals are the time when you put on your newest outfit and take to roads for pandal hopping with family and friends. For New Years I took myself to Philadelphia. It was brilliant. Larger than life. And the fireworks from Penn's landing. I have to say that no matter how much I am still doubtful about the efficiency of this country in general, this country knows its fireworks. I have never seen anything like it ever in my life. It was spectacular. But even while shaking in my shoes at midnight and seeing everyone kiss all around me at 31st night I heard people complaining as to how warm this New Year's day is. I will be the first one to admit, I do not understand the hankering for below freezing temperature.
What I do understand now is the meaning of the age old greeting of "with warm wishes". Remember how we use to write it at the bottom of our New Year's Greetings card back in school. (I wonder if the kids still write it.) Growing up in a hot and humid city like Kolkata, I had always wondered why warm wishes. Why not with comfortable wishes? But then while waiting for my bus at the bus stop on 2nd Jan 2015, for an hour, and having cold literally penetrate my very bones, the meaning of warmth finally hit me.
So here is WARMLY wishing all 13 people(or less) who has ever read my blog, a fantastic 2015.

My Experience In An Amreecan Village Part 1 : Zor Ka Jhatka

So I have moved from Kolkata and I miss my city and I find myself in a village in the middle of nowhere(read Pennsylvania) in the big bad world of Amreeca. So I have now decided to chronicle my experience in this village and start a sub-blog. I wonder if I should change the name of the blog ??(HMMMMMM!!!)

Before I was coming over all my non-Amreeci Amreecan people(friends and family who lived in the U.S) gave me plenty of advice most(yes I said most) of which was useful in dealing with the culture shock. But no one prepared me for the literal shock I would get after landing in the country. The dry winter cold generates so much static that anything and everything shocks you, from car doors, to walmart carts, to PB2's faux-fur coat. And I have no idea why nobody warns against that.

Then I had this firm belief that I could go on talking in Bangla and no one around me would understand. It somehow made me feel I posses this superpower. Again, noone told me any better. From the cabbie, to the hotdog vendor, to the owner of the local Dunkin DoNut shop...everyone seems to know Bangali and are either from Bangladesh or Medinipur, specially in New York.

But the biggest shock I got about the above was right here in this Amreecan village. My cousin MSM and her husband SS had come the first weekend that I landed in the continent to help me settle in. So to celebrate my first weekend in the States SS, (based on my other cousin AB's suggestion)took all of us to this Carribean Restaurant called Bahama Breeze. We ordered a lavish dinner and was conversing away in Bangla. The bill finally came and while SS was calculating the tip MSM was telling me how in New York the servers will run after you if you do not tip properly. Our Bahama Breeze server, however was standing behind politely waiting for the cheque. After the bill was paid we walked out and was waiting in the waiting area for our cab. MSM and I were sitting in one corner while SS was standing by the door keeping a watch out for the cab. Our server suddenly comes and shows the bill to SS. MSM walks over to SS, puts her hand on her hips and asks SS in Bangla "Ki re ? New york er moton obosthya ? Beshi taka chay !! " (What is it? Do they want more tips like in New York?). To this SS replies that he had made some mistakes on calculating the tip also in Bangla. So MSM being the person she is turns to the server and explains to him in English that SS was too tired and therefore made a mistake. To this our server replied, in plain and simple Bangla " Kono somosyai noi. Erom to hoyei thake. " ( Do not worry. This is not a problem at all. We are used to things like this happening.)And this is what Amitabh Bacchan used to refer to as "Zor ka Jhatka, dhire se lage."