"Calcium, Okay. Iron, almost okay. Nitrate, Okay., he is better now, you can have your private ward", this sentence made my day. After long 10 days inside IMC ward I was finally sent to private ward. I was happy since I don't have to see people dying in front of my eyes, vomiting blood in front of me or getting fatal strokes. I was out of critical ward, I was out of IMC Ward no. 204. My family was happy. The doctor told another junior to take out the line going inside my groin and move me to the private ward. He quickly took the wire out and pressed the hole created due to the wire.
I had a last look at the IMC ward that day which was almost empty. There was no other patient that was present who was there when I was admitted. They came and went in a few days but no one stayed like me. It was almost empty with 2 other patients only. It was a sunny day, a hot afternoon. I can still feel the warmth I was feeling in the air during that time. My family packed up all the things and they brought me a wheelchair. I remember the nurse coming to me and smiling wholeheartedly and saying to me, "Finally out of here haan?". I smiled to her. Every nurse knew my name in the ward. I could never ask her name but whenever the doctors would come, she would pray in her mind that they discharge me. She knew the atmosphere of the ward. She even memorised my medicines. She would rarely had a look at the register to see what medicine she has to feed me. She would bring every necessary thing and change the bedsheets every morning. I sat on the wheelchair with the tube still inside my nose. It was very uncomfortable sitting somewhere with that tube because it would slide down due to gravity and hurt my throat. I was brought to the private ward finally.
Private ward was not the fanciest ward but still it was private. A television, a sofa and personal washroom. Although there was no possibility of me watching the tv due to double vision, sitting on a sofa because of utter weakness and bathing was out of question, still I liked it. The only thing that was of my use was the window along the bed. It has been 10 days since I saw anything of the outer world. It was just walls and fans of the IMC ward. The window was on my left side and as I mentioned earlier turning to left side pricked my throat due to the tube. It had been too much with the tube. I wanted it out of me as soon as possible. Every morning during the doctor's visit I would hope that he orders the nurse to remove the tube, but it did not happen. I asked my sister to talk to him about the tube. He would say,"We can remove the tube, but his throat muscles are very weak. If he is unable to swallow something and the food moves to the lung, he will have pneumonia." This tube was far better than pneumonia I thought. We never spoke about the tube after that. We never wanted to pressurise the doctor, we wanted him to say himself about the tube and discharge. One fine day he was not present in the hospital, so all his patients were checked by another lady Dr. Sanghamitra. She was a short, fat and really gentle and kind lady. She came to me and did several tests. I was little stronger now and passed every test. After noting it down in her register she uttered the golden words I have been wanting to hear for a long time, "Nurse, take out his tube and feed him liquid through his mouth". I cannot express how I felt that time. I just can't. I was having this tube inside my nose to my stomach for 13 days. The nurse pulled out the tube and the first thing I did was to look outside the window on my left. Green grass, pleasant morning, grey clouds. Construction was going on just outside my building which was visible from the window. Everybody was complaining about the continuous noise but I was happy to see the world for now. I don't know how those criminals live inside solitary confinement for 30 days. I was restless in 13. The continuous hammering noise sometimes gave me a headache. Doctors made an appointment with the ophthalmologist (eye doctor) and physiotherapist. The doctors could not find out what was wrong with my eyes. I was still seeing everything double. Two fans, two doctors, two hands, twenty fingers. They told me, "It will heal itself, give it time." Physiotherapist asked me to stand, I did. "Now walk". I did. "Lift your hands" I did. "You are far better than other GB Syndrome patients, they don't even walk for months. You are a strong boy, you don't need physiotherapy just perform few exercises." Well that was a relief. Finally everything was going downhill. Everything bad was over and done. I was listening to the positive news everyday. I was happy, I was very happy.
Since this tube was out, I had options to eat now. Milk was definitely not one of them. Every morning a nurse would come to take the order. What would you like to have today Harish? Coconut water, khichdi, juice and a long list would continue. Finally something will be touching my mouth. Juice I said. I was to be fed by a spoon as instructed by the doctor. My sister took the spoonful of juice and put it on my tongue. Do you remember the feeling of touching water on tongue when you are really thirsty like your mouth is drying out? This feeling was thousand times to that. I could feel every drop of it. I did not swallow it at once. I stirred it inside my mouth. I felt the taste till I could. It has been 13 days since I have had something on my tongue. I did the same to next few drops. A unique incident I remember in the private ward though. I was lying on the bed when a lady came in my room. She was quite old, more than 60 and said to me, "It has been really hard for you, don't worry, life will be easy now." I thought she is some friend of my parents but my mother asked her who are you? She said, "I heard about him in the ward". "Okay" everyone said. She asked me, "How did it occur to you for the first time?". "Occurred what?" "This for which you are lying here". "Sorry I did not get you". "Son, how did you decide to donate your kidney to your friend?" I turned my face on the other side. I knew she has come in the wrong room and I don't want to waste my energy. My mother told her that I am not the one she is looking for. Later a nurse told her that the boy she is looking for is in next ward. I knew she was just pretending to be sorry.
On my 15th day the doctor came and as soon as he opened the door I stood by myself without the support of my hands. He said, "He is very good" My sister was too happy to listen to this and finally, finally my family and I heard the most awaited words after 15 days in the hospital and suffering through almost everything. After passing long nights which were maybe 10 hours for you but was more than 20 for me. After seeing patients die in front of me and passing the most hurtful tests. After drinking just milk through a pipe for breakfast, lunch and dinner. After accepting 20 bottles of blood and unlimited bottles of other nutrients. After everything and passing through every dark day the doctor said, "Nurse, give them their final bill and discharge him." Finally I was going home. It has been long days for me and longer nights. A man brought me a wheelchair and everyone packed their stuff. My father and sister went downstairs to book a cab. They came really sooner than I expected. It was my last day so I ordered Dal khichdi. I enjoyed every bite of it. My mother fed it to me and I was soon ready to go. I sat on the chair and the boy pushed me. He took me outside where cab was waiting but in between the main gate and cab it was something I was feeling after so long. The sun rays hit my hand and I felt the warmth of the rays. The air hit my face which was not from the fan. I closed my eyes, felt the air, felt my hand warming up from the rays. I looked outside and the grass was greener than ever. Everything was so memorable. Living like this you ignore the simple joys of life and they mean a lot. I missed this light, I missed this air, I missed these people chit chatting with each other, I missed the grass, I missed the road. I was out of the four walls finally after 15 days. It is not something you can compare living inside your home for 15 days. This feeling was different. I feel the pain of every patient who has been inside the hospital for many days. My train was on track I felt. I sat in the car, looked at the main gate and remembered the first day I came here. The feeling is inexpressible.
I had a last look at the IMC ward that day which was almost empty. There was no other patient that was present who was there when I was admitted. They came and went in a few days but no one stayed like me. It was almost empty with 2 other patients only. It was a sunny day, a hot afternoon. I can still feel the warmth I was feeling in the air during that time. My family packed up all the things and they brought me a wheelchair. I remember the nurse coming to me and smiling wholeheartedly and saying to me, "Finally out of here haan?". I smiled to her. Every nurse knew my name in the ward. I could never ask her name but whenever the doctors would come, she would pray in her mind that they discharge me. She knew the atmosphere of the ward. She even memorised my medicines. She would rarely had a look at the register to see what medicine she has to feed me. She would bring every necessary thing and change the bedsheets every morning. I sat on the wheelchair with the tube still inside my nose. It was very uncomfortable sitting somewhere with that tube because it would slide down due to gravity and hurt my throat. I was brought to the private ward finally.
Private ward was not the fanciest ward but still it was private. A television, a sofa and personal washroom. Although there was no possibility of me watching the tv due to double vision, sitting on a sofa because of utter weakness and bathing was out of question, still I liked it. The only thing that was of my use was the window along the bed. It has been 10 days since I saw anything of the outer world. It was just walls and fans of the IMC ward. The window was on my left side and as I mentioned earlier turning to left side pricked my throat due to the tube. It had been too much with the tube. I wanted it out of me as soon as possible. Every morning during the doctor's visit I would hope that he orders the nurse to remove the tube, but it did not happen. I asked my sister to talk to him about the tube. He would say,"We can remove the tube, but his throat muscles are very weak. If he is unable to swallow something and the food moves to the lung, he will have pneumonia." This tube was far better than pneumonia I thought. We never spoke about the tube after that. We never wanted to pressurise the doctor, we wanted him to say himself about the tube and discharge. One fine day he was not present in the hospital, so all his patients were checked by another lady Dr. Sanghamitra. She was a short, fat and really gentle and kind lady. She came to me and did several tests. I was little stronger now and passed every test. After noting it down in her register she uttered the golden words I have been wanting to hear for a long time, "Nurse, take out his tube and feed him liquid through his mouth". I cannot express how I felt that time. I just can't. I was having this tube inside my nose to my stomach for 13 days. The nurse pulled out the tube and the first thing I did was to look outside the window on my left. Green grass, pleasant morning, grey clouds. Construction was going on just outside my building which was visible from the window. Everybody was complaining about the continuous noise but I was happy to see the world for now. I don't know how those criminals live inside solitary confinement for 30 days. I was restless in 13. The continuous hammering noise sometimes gave me a headache. Doctors made an appointment with the ophthalmologist (eye doctor) and physiotherapist. The doctors could not find out what was wrong with my eyes. I was still seeing everything double. Two fans, two doctors, two hands, twenty fingers. They told me, "It will heal itself, give it time." Physiotherapist asked me to stand, I did. "Now walk". I did. "Lift your hands" I did. "You are far better than other GB Syndrome patients, they don't even walk for months. You are a strong boy, you don't need physiotherapy just perform few exercises." Well that was a relief. Finally everything was going downhill. Everything bad was over and done. I was listening to the positive news everyday. I was happy, I was very happy.
Since this tube was out, I had options to eat now. Milk was definitely not one of them. Every morning a nurse would come to take the order. What would you like to have today Harish? Coconut water, khichdi, juice and a long list would continue. Finally something will be touching my mouth. Juice I said. I was to be fed by a spoon as instructed by the doctor. My sister took the spoonful of juice and put it on my tongue. Do you remember the feeling of touching water on tongue when you are really thirsty like your mouth is drying out? This feeling was thousand times to that. I could feel every drop of it. I did not swallow it at once. I stirred it inside my mouth. I felt the taste till I could. It has been 13 days since I have had something on my tongue. I did the same to next few drops. A unique incident I remember in the private ward though. I was lying on the bed when a lady came in my room. She was quite old, more than 60 and said to me, "It has been really hard for you, don't worry, life will be easy now." I thought she is some friend of my parents but my mother asked her who are you? She said, "I heard about him in the ward". "Okay" everyone said. She asked me, "How did it occur to you for the first time?". "Occurred what?" "This for which you are lying here". "Sorry I did not get you". "Son, how did you decide to donate your kidney to your friend?" I turned my face on the other side. I knew she has come in the wrong room and I don't want to waste my energy. My mother told her that I am not the one she is looking for. Later a nurse told her that the boy she is looking for is in next ward. I knew she was just pretending to be sorry.
On my 15th day the doctor came and as soon as he opened the door I stood by myself without the support of my hands. He said, "He is very good" My sister was too happy to listen to this and finally, finally my family and I heard the most awaited words after 15 days in the hospital and suffering through almost everything. After passing long nights which were maybe 10 hours for you but was more than 20 for me. After seeing patients die in front of me and passing the most hurtful tests. After drinking just milk through a pipe for breakfast, lunch and dinner. After accepting 20 bottles of blood and unlimited bottles of other nutrients. After everything and passing through every dark day the doctor said, "Nurse, give them their final bill and discharge him." Finally I was going home. It has been long days for me and longer nights. A man brought me a wheelchair and everyone packed their stuff. My father and sister went downstairs to book a cab. They came really sooner than I expected. It was my last day so I ordered Dal khichdi. I enjoyed every bite of it. My mother fed it to me and I was soon ready to go. I sat on the chair and the boy pushed me. He took me outside where cab was waiting but in between the main gate and cab it was something I was feeling after so long. The sun rays hit my hand and I felt the warmth of the rays. The air hit my face which was not from the fan. I closed my eyes, felt the air, felt my hand warming up from the rays. I looked outside and the grass was greener than ever. Everything was so memorable. Living like this you ignore the simple joys of life and they mean a lot. I missed this light, I missed this air, I missed these people chit chatting with each other, I missed the grass, I missed the road. I was out of the four walls finally after 15 days. It is not something you can compare living inside your home for 15 days. This feeling was different. I feel the pain of every patient who has been inside the hospital for many days. My train was on track I felt. I sat in the car, looked at the main gate and remembered the first day I came here. The feeling is inexpressible.
A happy aspect of the long and difficult journey. I was going to say "ending" instead of aspect...but I guess it was only the end of the hospital chapter. The journey to recovery will continue outside.
ReplyDeleteAnother moving blog post.
Thanks a lot stewart :)
ReplyDelete