That hot air balloon!

Its been two weeks since I got off the OT table; but more than a couple of months since I have been thinking about this mini-adventure. 

One thing I never asked was ‘why?’ Like why did this happen to me. I did end up rationalizing that it happened for many good reasons. In the last few months, I got 12 injection pricks (two were wrong attempts/mistakes)! Yup, this is me. I remember, a year and half ago when I had to get some immunizations and I was so scared, I kept postponing them till I got a notice from the university that they would cancel my registration if I didn’t get the immunizations. I waited till Shubh came and got them. I started from someone who couldn’t sleep a night before I had to get a needle, and by the 11^th needle I began to believe that my fear had drastically reduced. At least I wouldn’t worry a night before. But don’t know why during the 12^th prick, I again had a sleepless night before. So was the surgery not a life-changing event?

So I was getting my blood drawn in Ithaca and the nurse had the world map in her room and told me that once I am done, I could mark which place I am from (Delhi had already been marked though!!). It had just been a month or so for the map she had put up and it was dotted from all over the world. We talked about love for humanity and just before I left, she said, ‘I have drawn blood from so many people from around the world and there is only one thing I have seen, we all have the same blood. We are all the same’. Now who wouldn’t want a needle to hear such inspiring words and believe in a world where diversity thrives in unity. I still have some more follow up needles waiting with smiles. And this time, I will go alone. Till now I always had Shubh or my mom around. But for the next, they will not be there.

The other day, we watched a TED talk, in which the speaker (who was an astronaut) mentioned that there is a difference between danger and fear. He asked why so many people dream and work hard to go into space, when the chances of survival are not universal. Most of us rational people know that what we fear isn’t really dangerous. But fear remains, how can we tackle fear with this reasoning? I don’t know. Till I got the surgery, I worked really hard to understand myself, to reflect and understand my fears and anxieties. I really began to harbor this hope that after the surgery, I would be a changed person. I would have learnt to deal with my fears and anxieties. Time will only tell.

There were two most (MOST) scary moments I went through. Don’t know which was scarier, but they really scared me through and through. Its not something you want to do again, though I know if I have to go through these, I will and I will survive through it. They say ignorance is bliss. I agree. I didn’t know what was coming up and that made every moment something to think about that time and not anticipate beforehand (something which I love doing). So I was ready in that hospital gown to go for the MRI and was relaxed since I thought it’s like a CT scan, which I had got two months ago. The CT was friendly and quick (except I had got an IV line for the first time, thankfully not this time for the MRI).  When I lied down, I asked the technician how long I would lie down and he said ‘around half an hour’. That’s when I freaked out. I told myself, its okay, just sleep. Then he said, ‘it will be noisy and I will give you headphones’. I was like, ‘okay’. OKAY. They rolled me through the cylindrical opening till I asked ‘is this all, will my head not be out on the other side’. He said, ‘this is all it goes’. And that’s when I realized that I was one of those claustrophobic people; no one can EVER sleep with such anxiety. I never opened my eyes too see what I was lying in. I had the deepest anxiety I have EVER experienced. I cannot believe I survived it. They had told me that if I move, it would take longer. So in desperation, I lied straight, eyes closed tightly, headphones on, not having the slightest clue of the kind of sounds I would hear or what would happen. He gave me the ‘bell’ and then, for the first time in my life I realized how it feels to have no one, nothing. No phone. No person. No idea of what would happen. I couldn’t even open my eyes in fear or move. Not the kind of experience we often get. The last thing I asked him was, ‘my mom is outside right?’. He said yes. That was the only solace.

Those 40 minutes were not as long as an anxious person would feel so. As I closed my eyes, I thought of Atman and Brahman, and when they unite, it is Ananda. Ananda or delight, is where the knower, the known and the knowledge become one (Radhakrishnan, 1923/2008). “There must be something higher than mere intellect, where existence is no longer formulated in terms of knowledge” (pp 130). I went back to my Indian philosophy book (read: Hindu philosophy) and thought of everything I had read. It was really comforting. I meditated. I asked questions, I wondered what those 200 pages I had read meant to me. I reflected on the ideas of the Upanishads. That’s what really prepared me. For the last few months, I had started meditating. When the mind is calm, not restless, the mind relaxes; perhaps it helps us deal with our anxieties and fears. During the MRI, I felt that when we divert our mind to something we enjoy, like going to the beach, we are not making the mind the calm, and it’s akin to being restless. So instead of bringing in positive thoughts from the external world, I felt it’s more peaceful to focus our mind on internal calmness. This is a big thing I learnt that day.

I don’t know when I fell into the anesthetic sleep. I have to admit that was one of my biggest anxieties (the other, of course, needles). I do remember when I was loosening out of it. Thankfully I had met the anesthetist a week ago. Post-surgery, I remember him saying, ‘Isha, open your mouth’ and a tube coming out from my mouth. Then for those couple of seconds, I breathed heavy. I almost struggled. That was the first time ever, I felt this urge, this desperation, to live. I wanted to breath. I couldn’t feel a single part of my body, my eyes were not fully open, but my mind was loudly screaming to keep breathing. I told myself to trust this place. Which place can be safer than an operation theatre! They wont let you die here! They also gave me an oxygen mask. A few days later, I kept recalling of this moment, not that one should experience it, but it’s only something you can experience, not describe. It reminded me of that scene in The Dark Knight Rises (2012), where the girl is able to make a life-saving jump, only because she didn’t fear death. Then it made me question how we so much fear death (with our life!). I went back to those words that my mom and me would talk about, again, borrowing from Hindu philosophy. Kaam, krodh, moh, lobh, ahankar. Desire, anger, attachment, greed and ego. We are so materialistic. Its not just objects, but also our body. We don’t want to let go of these. Death is our greatest fear. How does one stop fearing death? I don’t know.

I was reading the ways to tackle anxiety before surgery. I learnt two very important things. One is to trust your doctor and secondly, to trust yourself. Look at miss Isha, who already has trust issues, had to go out and trust. Trust the system, the doctor and yourself. It’s really hard for some people. Every day I had to remind myself to trust my doctor. I was preparing myself for months. And to top it all, they give you an anti-anxiety medicine a night before: woo hoo! I wonder what really saved me! The say fear is really the fear of being unable to control. And yes, for control freaks like me, that was a FEAR! I was lucky that I was at a mother and child hospital. It reverberated with positive energy. Everywhere were quiet babies wrapped up so warm and pregnant women excited for their antenatal checkups. So it didn’t make me feel much as a ‘patient’, who is sick, at a hospital, with other sick people. It felt like the place where I could come again with a smile!

You don’t know what you have till you don’t have it. The third day in the hospital, they made me walk. When I took those few steps, they opened the window blinds and after two days, I had looked outside. I saw trees and the cars. I saw life. It almost felt like a revelation. There was a world out there. That’s when I wanted to get up and get out there. I wanted to live life. And that’s when I had this deep desire to ride a hot air balloon. I still do and I will. When I would lie in the bed in the hospital, with no energy to do anything much, I would dream to live life. To live it the best, to be calm, peaceful, loving, energetic and motivated. I wanted to conquer it. It was such a deep desire. Ironically, this desire is the deepest when its almost impossible to do it. When you are back on track, the desire weakens! On the second evening, I got paneer bhurji for dinner and trust me, that was the best paneer bhurji I have ever had. It tingled my taste buds. I remember when the first night they said, ‘you will get a few sips of water’. I was like ‘wow, I will get a FEW SIPS of water, bring it on!’ Felt like I was going to party! Then the next night, when they said, you will start a normal diet, I just wanted to leap out of the bed with excitement to BITE, yes, bite food. I wanted to savor food, chew it (I had been on a liquid diet for three days).  No one knows what a gift it is to be able to bite into food, to chew and taste the multiple textures.

The last morning, my nurse Blessy asked me, ‘will you remember me?’ and I said, ‘of course, I will tell everyone about you’. She said, ‘you don’t have to tell everyone about me, you can just remember me’. Her humility defeated my arrogance. For the first time in my life, I began to RESPECT this profession and work, hospitals, nurses, doctors, medicine. My ignorance and apprehension turned into respect. You know when I saw the hospital bill I was so surprised. There is such a big difference in the cost of the doctors visits and in the service of the nurses. Nurses are around you the whole time, they are the ones who give you the most comfort. You can tell the nurse you don’t want to drink milk or get another needle shot. She asks you if you are having gas or if you want to pee. The nurse sponges you in the wake of morning. She gets as intimate as one would be to oneself. But society has a cruel way to reward specialized knowledge over humane care. Moreover, patients are thankless themselves.

You know I have developed so much gratitude for people around me over the past years; but there was another truth I realized during this adventure. I realized that you are alone during a medical procedure. You alone bear the pain and discomfort. You are the only one who experiences this and who reflects. You are the one who heals, who learns not to take much for granted. You are deprived, yet you are given a special role of the sick. But its only you, you alone. And alone, you experience how amazing the body recovers everyday. EVERY DAY. Yes, there is nothing more peaceful than being able to understand your body. It tells you. It’s your friend.

We take so many things for granted. Yes, all plug points are always below and for someone learning to bend again, even putting your phone on charge is a daunting task. I have to thank learning Odissi (dance), by which I learnt to touch the floor without bending forward! Have you worn socks while standing up? The hardest of all was getting out the bed. Almost everything we do requires bending, pushing, pulling, holding something heavy…from lightly washing clothes, to opening doors, covering yourself completely with the razai. Everyday you achieve something, today I can take a shower, today I can wash my hair, today I can climb down the stairs, today I can pick up something that fell on the floor, today I can sit on the floor…and there are many more milestones ahead for me! Over two weeks, I took 20 different kinds of medicines and supplements. Yes, kinds! All the general stuff, all stuffed up in my body. You know when you are young, you can take A LOT. It’s amazing. Are you still thinking about the 20 kinds? Hmm, painkillers, antibiotics, then for acidity, gas, vomiting, anxiety, and sleep; anti-pyretic (paracetemol), laxatives, misoprostol, probiotic, anti-histamines (my favorite; talk about people having favorite medicines!); calcium, iron, D3, multivitamins, vitamin C, lozenges for cough, antiseptic (though not orally taken) and to top it all off, I thought to consider homeopathic (Indians will be Indians)! And all these are when I was in a conscious state! There are multiple forms of knowledge, even for medicine, and no one can be right. Who even knows if there is a right!

During these days, I was constantly reminded of sociologist Talcott Parsons work on the social role of the sick in society. I can’t remember when I read it, either in my Bachelors or Masters. He distinguishes four features of the ‘role of the sick’ in society (1951). The sick person is exempted from performing his normal social obligations, he/she is not expected to be entirely responsible to get well or ‘pull himself together’; it’s a state which is socially undesirable and one is given the privileges of being sick as long as one ‘cant help it’, hence is expected to recover quickly; and lastly, the sick are defined in being ‘in need of help’.

I asked many questions to myself, I saw many differences in healthcare systems. I experienced gender in multiple and new ways. The hospital gown was purple (though purple as gendered, is a subject of debate!). Outside rooms where girls where born, they had put up pink cards and ribbons and outside rooms where boys were born, the ribbons and cards were blue. Interestingly, if you go into the history of the symbolic expression of gender in the west, it used to be the opposite, pink for boys, blue for girls. Why? Lets leave that as homework! If you have a surgery of your tonsils or a fracture, its agendered, so it’s easy to talk about and share with members of the family. But history is a witness to how we have ignored, suppressed or shied away from talking about issues, which we see exclusively as ‘WOMEN’S’. It was about my uterus and I, nor did my family want it to be a discussion over tea among other members of the family. I questioned what is a women, is she one who does not have a uterus? Is she one who chooses not to be a mother? Do all women feel like having biological children? Who is a woman? I don’t know. But these questions, always poignant, light a fire in me, to stand strong and be the change that I want to see.  

The surgery didn’t leave me with much difficulty, as much as the (severe) anemia. But anemia is a woman’s thing, and doesn’t get that kind of attention (unlike cholesterol, which is projected as a man’s thing, though affects both sexes). Its only when you are severely anemic that you realize how debilitating it can be. And since men can never realize it, who knows how we will ever address it with seriousness. Women do a lot of work and it exhausts us badly. Imagine having to sit quiet for hours since talking exhausts your body. I even struggled to sit QUIET but it didn’t last long. Now what excuse do you give to people for the fatigue you experience every day. The doctor says I got to wait at least three months till I can dance. Little did I anticipate that, the strong me was no more physically strong (temporarily). I began to yearn to dance, to climb, to have energy to be back to the kind of person I have always been. This mini-adventure did not shake my mental energy. That’s why I am looking forward to that hot air balloon!