Bangalore India hospital flow

I just spent many days in a hospital in India.

It was fascinating for five reasons:

Price

I like preventative health checkups, often called “executive health screening”, where they run every test and inspect every part of you. Hearing, vision, heart, blood, bones, lungs, skin, stomach, etc. EKGs on the treadmill, ultrasound inspecting your organs, X-rays, MRIs, whatever. They run you through all these tests in six hours, then specialists analyze the results.

15 years ago I did one in Bangkok for $500, but now that same package at the same hospital costs $1500. A similar one in Singapore was around $2000. Cleveland Clinic in Abu Dhabi, two years ago, was $5000. Last month in Bangalore? $80.

I needed neurosurgery to remove a schwannoma from behind my knee. It would cost $14,000 at home in New Zealand, but only $2000 at a top hospital in India.

Medications that cost $50 in New Zealand or $100 in America are only $2 in India. After my surgery, they prescribed a bunch of stuff to keep the pain and infection away. Fulfilled at a local pharmacy, everything all combined cost about $8.

Need a private consultation with a specialist - like a neurosurgeon or dermatologist or cardiologist? $10. You just tap an appointment in their app, pay instantly with your phone, and that’s it. Which leads to the next point.

Speed

In New Zealand, my regular GP’s next availability is in six weeks, and to see a specialist takes three to six months.

At the Indian hospital, when I tried to book an appointment in advance, they were confused. “Just come in”, they said. I tried to explain that I’m coming from abroad for this major surgery and can’t stay for long, but their answer was the same. “Just come in.” So I flew there with no appointment.

The top specialists - some of the best in the world - are available within hours. I showed up at 7am and made appointments to see four specialists at 8, 9, 10, and 11.

Sometimes when meeting with one, like a spinal specialist, he’d refer me to another, like an oncologist, and I’d see him within 30 minutes.

One says I need an MRI, so within a couple hours I’m getting my MRI, then back the next morning for the specialist to review the results.

Skill

For this neurosurgery, I was kind of scared, wanting to make sure I picked the best surgeon. Assuming they’ve all had the best education and are working with the best equipment and facilities, how can I know who’s best?

I learned that what you want to see is volume. Who’s recently performed this procedure the most? And where you find those surgeons? At the busiest hospital!

We’re used to using price as an indicator of quality, so our instinct says that the $20,000 surgery in Switzerland is better than the $2000 surgery in India, but the rule of volume disagrees. Pick a popular hospital in a major Indian city, and you’ll be in the best hands.

After much research I chose Sakra World Hospital, but ended up at Manipal Hospital. Why?

Adaptive Systems

I love watching how they drive in India. It’s not orderly. But neither is water flowing in a stream. It flows around obstacles. Everything is opportunistic, selfishly taking the effective path, exploiting available gaps. It’s natural.

I made my appointments and showed up first thing in the morning at Sakra World Hospital for my full day of tests. But they said, “Our systems are down today. Come back another day.” So I took a taxi to nearby Manipal Hospital and did everything there instead. I never went back to Sakra.

When I arrived at Manipal, the coordinator said I can’t do it today. But then a different coordinator called my name, and I did everything that day, no problem.

Later that week, the surgeon scheduled my surgery for 6am. “6am? Wow!” “Yes. 6am. Bright and early.” “OK, doctor. See you tomorrow at 6am.” “Yes. 6am. OK. See you then.”

I showed up at 5am, checked in for the 6am surgery, changed into the gown, and waited. Nobody came. I asked a few times, but nobody knew where he was. After four hours of waiting, I walked out and made an appointment with a different surgeon, and that went great.

Many little things are like this, and it somehow all works. You flow around the obstacles.

Bangalore

They used to say it’s the Silicon Valley of India. But it’s so much more.

Mumbai and Delhi used to be the place to be, but now Bangalore is where it’s at. Artists, writers, scientists, hackers, painters. A creative, ambitious culture, on par with San Francisco, and nice weather too. It has that exponential energy that comes from the brightest minds being in one place.

The awful infrastructure is the only deterrent, otherwise everyone in India would be here.

But for me, it’s emotional. This is the place where I have the dearest friends.

Giddy Alicia, wry George, cranky Komal, calm Bindu, and swooning Karuna had me laughing to tears, over and over again, happier than I’ve been in years. We tease each other in that endearing way that old friends do, even though I haven’t known them that long.

Alicia and Komal cancelled their other plans, came to the hospital on my big surgery day, and sat by my bedside, chatting with me for seven hours. It was really meaningful.

I already have a local phone and bank account in Bangalore, and I’m planning on moving there as soon as I can.

I mention this at the end, because if it weren’t for my attachment to Bangalore, I probably would have chosen Medanta Medicity in Gurugram. But if you need healthcare, and you want to meet some great people, search the web for a list of top hospitals in Bangalore, and show up, ready to flow.

Oh and yeah, I’m fine and fully recovered and all is well.