Globalization by Bikram

Yesterday, I happened upon a woman who, as she describes herself, is "a freelance English and Bikram Yoga teacher." She said she had taught Yoga in LA, New York, Marseilles, Nepal, Indonesia, Dubai, and Vienna. Currently, she was helping to open a new studio here in Wien (Vienna, btw).

This morning, I took up her offer of a lesson. Early morning in Vienna and NO one is on the street. This city is very calculated and runs on a clock. Go out at 11:00, leave the streets by 6:00. Etc. So I decided to go, sans the sports bra I left at home, foolishly.

First of all, the studio smells like cardamom, my favorite. The lady is very kind and offers me help in choosing a mat and some towels. Unfortunately, I go into the men's changing room because I cannot read German. Oh well.

We go into the HOT studio, as Bikram is hot. About 15 minutes in, I'm already DRIPPING in sweat, and so is everyone else. The work out is both mental and physical and it is damn good. Everyone from young people to old people do it, and everyone at their own pace. For the most part, everyone was in really good shape, and everyone had to sit down at one time or another to just rest. When the instructor opened the windows on occasion, I relished in the fresh air.

Funny enough, the instructor was not too zen, but speaking in strong German, (with english for me). Imagine that sounds and clapping of a high upper school PE teacher. Everyone is sweating and at this point, everyone is in little undies and bras. You don't give a shit after a while.

Later, when its all said and done, I feel refreshed. I get some tea and apples and sit in the group. surprisingly, I was very relaxed and not in pain. (Currently I just feel a little weak, why I am sitting down before I continue to sight see).

A mother/daughter pair living in Vienna but from California start talking with me, telling me there is Bikram all over the world, even in Sarajevo! The guy, Bikram from LA created the exercises that work your thyroid, pancreas, and not to mention muscles and mind. He trains people and sends them all over the world. The sequence is the same, as is the exercise, so basically you get the same thing (with slight variations) wherever you go. I might have to try it in Sarajevo and Israel. Maybe I'll get one started in Kosovo, haha. For 10 Euros, I got all of that (including my free breakfast), and a free session tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM. I might go...

After my chat with those ladies, I went to the correct dressing room.... Now, you cannot have body issues in a European Gym. Communal showers, nudity, and no "stalls" change that. So I just went at it naked.

Words of wisdom for first time Bikram people: (Mom! Listen up!)

--Bring the littlest pair of shorts and a sports bra. Everyone, even the fat people, will have one on.

--Bring extra clothes, two towels, and shower supplies. You NEED to shower after this.

--Do NOT eat before this. Wake up and go. No coffee.

--Drink a bottle of water before you go. During, you cannot drink water for the first 25 minutes of the 90 minute routine.

--Have no shame.

--Be in half decent shape before you go. Bikram is for everyone, but come on, you should be able to at least sit in a warm room for 90 minutes.

--Don't give up. Have a mentally calm attitude and just don't think about it when you cannot do a perfect pose.

--Have fun.

Namaste.

Dear Enron: Why am I writing to you about Cancer wards?

Dear Enron,

Your paper is due in one hour and seven minutes.

Yet I sit here after three hours of procedures for removing yet another cyst in an actual American hospital... and I still have no proofread you.

So about this American hospital. In July, I wrote about the excellent care in the "women's health center" at the American Hospital in Istanbul. Now I write to you about "Breast Cancer Center" at Yale-New Haven Hospital.

Funny how I go from "Women's Health" to "Breast Cancer" Centers for treatment. Don't you think they could have been a little more optimistic here in New Haven about that care? (That dragged on quite some time....) Well, I guess I was the only under 50 year old woman in that ward.

Alas, though I'm okay, I'm tired and too high strung to settle into writing about you Enron, because quite frankly, "Breast cancer" is not the same as "women's health."

Why am I writing about this?

Sincerely,

Danielle

American Hospitals The Way They Should Be... In Istanbul

After weeks of this rash and another "women's health issue," I decided to visit a hospital in Istanbul to get things checked out. Granted, I had heard horror stories of people dying in Emergency rooms as they wait, so I was very skeptical of the quality of health care that I would get. I opted for a private hospital, praying that they would speak enough English for me to explain my problems. A few phone calls later and I had an appointment at the American Hastane (Hospital) in Nisantase in Istanbul. (And yes, Koc has a hand in this too...)

My taxi was dwarfed by some of the Bentleys and black Mercedes in the entrance. Going in, there was a beautiful marble reception area. I felt like I was in a chic 5 star hotel, not a hospital. There were sleek chairs and one of those cow sculptures decorated like a doctor. My fears of hospitals (not just in Turkey) were eased. 

9:30 appointment in Dermatology, second floor.  I felt like I was checking in to a flight--the receptionists all wore ties and vests, not medical gear. They were just for the administrative and payment side of things. I sat down, seeing the well dressed demographic around me--this hospital was not for the average Turk, clearly. 

At 9:25, the doctor was ready to see me. Like clockwork. No waiting. The Dermatologist was thorough. He checked out my rash, he offered to do a biopsy. He took photos. He encouraged a follow up in two weeks after he prescribed me something. He sat down at his desk with me and talked to me about all of the possibilities. After, we went to "check out" and I paid, 175 TL or $114 dollars for the visit--which my insurance will reimburse me for back in the states. To be honest, I never had such straightforward, efficient care. 

Next, 10:30 in the Women's health center. I walk down the hall, passing a grand piano, more beautiful marble floors, and more lounges. The women's health center is bustling with kids, doctors, and women. I am early, but the doctor offers to see me early, so I pull my nose out of my Ayn Rand book and go into his office. He is wearing a Lacoste polo and pants. His office is just a nice consulting room. He takes me in, asks me how I am. We chat about my history, my mom's history, anything like that. He is surprised to find out that no one ever explained some of the genetic testing and treatments to prevent breast cancer--I did not know about them. My gynecologist never talked to me about these things and never did breast exams on me even! He took me to an examination room, where a nurse helped me dress and undress. He came in (no lab coat) did what he needed to. We went back to his office and he prescribed some testing that I needed done. It was less than a half an hour, but in such a short time, I had learned so much and never had such a good experience with a women's health doctor in my life. 

I wish he was my gynecologist... 

Now, I know this is a private hospital, but for specialists I spent less than $210 for TWO visits. I am amazed at the thorough treatment. Each doctor gave me his cell phone number to call him if anything should come up. They really were helpful and I could not believe I was in Istanbul to be honest. I know the US offers some of the best health care in the world... but after having some really bitchy gynecologists and nurses in my day, sometimes this "hotel hospital" world really is a dream come true. Sadly, I know most Turks cannot afford this health care, but at least in my situation--I wish there was a place like this in the states for the comparatively lower prices...

After, I treated myself to a crepe (seeing as how, though I was not traumatized by a hospital experience, I was still nervous). I walked around the neighborhood and came back to sink into my bed. Its far too hot and work is a continent away....