Thursday, September 5, 2019


You need a hip replacement. You got the diagnoses from local doctors, but the cost of the surgery is horrendous. So, you contact a local office of a medical group in Mumbai, India. The local rep tells you the price of a hip replacement, and it is a fraction of the medical group you deal with in the USA.

So, you book the surgery. On the day of the surgery, a semi truck pulls up in front of you house. On the side of he van is a lovely painting of the Taj Mahal. I nice man with an Indian accent knocks on the door and tells you they are ready to do your surgery. They roll you to the van of the truck in a wheel chair, lift you into the truck van, and two nurses start prepping you for surgery. Cameras are everywhere. A robot with an Indian accent greets you and tells you all is well and it will all be over quickly.

The anesthetic is administered, and you go under. As you doze off, the nice robot waves a pretty balloon in front of you and tells you, with a giggle and a head wag, that life is good, and your doctor, Dr. J. P. Patel, is poised in his clinic in Mumbai to guide the robot during the surgery. 

The robot then tells you that he is the robot who took out the appendix of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi recently. And, the Prime Minister survived just fine and even won a vote of confidence in the Indian Parliament.

You wake up, and you have pain, but the anesthetic is suppressing it well. There is now background music as a girl sings through her nose in a five note scale, but everyone is smiling and they tell one another it all went so well.

You are wheeled back into your home, and the nurses transform your bedroom into a hospital room complete with oxygen and other monitoring devices. One nurse tells you she will be staying with you 24/7 to make sure all is well. "Not to vorry," she says. "Ve have lots of Indian morphine to prevent your pain."

On the second day, a rehab nurse arrives from Chennai, India, and she has brought special equipment to help you get your movement back. Meals are delivered by a nearby Indian restaurant, and you are encouraged to order the Vindaloo which will burn so bad that it will mask the pain in your hip.

Finally, at the end of your rehab a representative from the company in India arrives. He has a perfect Oxford accent, and he tells you he will be asking a few questions to learn how you feel about your surgery and care. After this interview, he puts you into a wheel chair and takes you out to a fancy Indian restaurant in your area and treats you to a great curry dinner. He informs you that your recovery has been so good that they have decided to issue you a discount on the final bill because they did not have to pay for help with any complications.

So, you think I am clear off the wall and going loony in my old age, right?


And, I have learned that some US health insurance companies are going for health care in India. It is only a matter of time before the doctor and the bill will be from India, but he surgery will be done in a mobile unit right in your front yard. They save millions on operations done in India. They will save even more millions on surgery done remotely from New Delhi. 

May it never be said that Balaam's Ass Speaks Blog does not keep its readers on the leading edge of terrifyingly nervous technology. 

Not to vorry, Sa.

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