3/5/25 Mumbai Central
More babies crying. More horns honking. Day one in India has been a wild ride. After not knowing our hotel address or the hospital Christ is having surgery at, customs approved our entry and we found our driver. We finally settled into our hotel room and ordered room service (which was quite good!) around 3am local time.
I ignored Christ’s enthusiasm for breakfast to continue sleeping, but finally crawled out of bed before our “just in case” noon alarm. On our way to the grocery store, the streets were as busy as I expected. Playing frogger for our lives, we dodged cars, mopeds, snd bikes in every direction. The grocery store was no less chaotic. We navigated around carts and people, through the narrow aisles with all eyes on us. Children gawked and cockroaches scurried.
After only leaving the hotel for an hour, we fell back into our beds for the heaviest sleep of the trip yet. It was as though I was in a straight jacket strapped to the bed holding me hostage. Let the jet lag commence.
Christ briefly met with a member of his medical team and then gently coaxed me awake. A few snacks and some mental math regarding sleep patterns later and we decided to walk toward the beach.
The streets were bustling even more so than earlier in the day. The horns and stares were never ending. How do I take it all in? Let’s first just look forward and not get run over.
There’s something about water that calms my whole body. The people faded into the background as the sun kissed my skin. Even the haggling children, obsessed with Christ’s tattoos, and the persistent salesmen with beer and bamboo mats couldn’t shake my peace. I had reached a new body of water to dip my toes in and that alone was enough.
With sand between our toes and a gentle hunger in our bellies, we made our way back. This time, we found a captivating walking bridge and a frenzied marketplace that led us across the train tracks and back to our hotel. We picked dinner from the outdoor buffet and ate to our hearts content for about $8.
As I lay down to write this I yearn to take Christ’s pain away. He jolts awake with each wave of electrical shock his system sends, anxiety setting in about the process and no medicine to keep the pain at bay. He will have pre-op testing tomorrow, though we still don’t have a time. I hope the hours move quickly for him.
Today has been exactly as expected and nothing like I could have ever imagined.
