Few months back I was on a roll on my blog and had to take a sudden break coz of my health issues. It was the day of my daughter’s birthday party. I had a bowl of cereal in the morning and only a cup of orange juice. After late lunch at 3:00 and by all the exhaustion of the party, I started to feel sick and didn’t have my dinner. As we prepared kids for bedtime, I started getting severe abdominal pains. I took some acidity medicine and went to bed. But in the night at 3:00, I started to get worse and Yogi had to call doctor who lives next door. In snowy rain, he came over to see me and gave some medicine to help me sleep.
Next day was better, only to get worse by evening. My son, who was alone with me did not panic and was offering me whatever he thought dad would have given me. (I am sooo proud of my little boy) That evening my doctor drove us to the emergency and offered to keep the kids with them. After three shots of morphine my pain subsided, but I threw up as they were discharging me. So, they moved me to in-patient section to do more tests.
From then on started a long ride of tests. They knocked me out for an endoscopic evaluation of the stomach. First time I had anesthesia and it was so funny I thought. A second back I was talking to the nurse and then I woke up with pain in my throat (with that big pipe going down the throat). I thought gosh, I lost those hours of my life. Even in sleep I think you would feel you are very much THERE.. But this was kinda different.
Then eventually it was decided I need to have Laparoscopic cholecystectomy to remove my gallbladder because it was functioning low. So this surgeon walks in and says, Ms you need to have this surgery and we will be doing it tomorrow. I was like WHAT!!!! I said, I had this kinda of pain for the first time, do I need to jump into that big step. Next thing you know, this surgeon stands up, says, well, nice meeting you, it’s your decision and walks out.! I lay there wondering what I said was wrong! Anyways, after numerous other doctors consultation, talking to nurses, looking online (within 2 hrs) we made a decision to go ahead with the surgery late that night. I do still regret the fact that I went ahead with that same surgeon( after my doctor’s assurance that he was a good surgeon).
I asked Yogi that night to call my parents and friends to let them know about surgery. My parents call me at the hospital and start crying on the phone. I was little nervous till then, but consoling them gave me an amazing calmness and strength.
Next day early morning nurse comes in to tell me that within an hour they will come to take me to the OT. I call hubby and he says well we are all just waking up, by the time I drop kids and come over it will be around 10:00. So I will see you after the surgery. I say ok and keep the phone down. Then it dawned to me, well I am having surgery here and don’t have anyone by my side. So called back and told him to get to the hospital before 8:00, no matter how. . He did show up before I was wheeled out (Yeah, he loves me. ;o)). After surgery I had four tiny incisions in my stomach to remove the gall bladder.
Tons of friends came over with food for us. Some came over to keep my company till my MIL came from India. Yes, a special mention of my MIL, because the minute she knew I was having surgery and we needed her help, she made a decision to travel. She cannot speak or read English, but she said she would come over to help us. Luckily for us, one of our friend was travelling back and she joined her.
I have completely recovered now from all the stomach pains and stomach upsets. Hardest part for me was giving up lifting my little one. She cuddled next to me after I went back home after a week and said I missed you mommy. I had tears rolling down my eyes when I hugged them both. Now I realize how much woman of the house is important for a family. She needs to be strong and healthy, to take care of kids, family and their needs. This health scare has made me stronger emotionally. My friends have overwhelmed with their love. Hoping to have healthier days ahead of me now…
Friday, June 17, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A place called, Childhood
Today I was browsing through my sisters pictures. Both my elder sisters were in our native place for Vittai’s son Shamanth’s thread ceremony. Ofcourse, I and Vandu miss many such events now that we live far from India. The pictures captured them and kiddos having fun in beautiful konkan coastal area. It reminded me of our summer visits to those places.
My native place is Honnavar. I was born there at a small hospital that sits atop a hill. Honnavar lies on the coast of Arabian sea and on the banks of Sharavati river. It used to be seaport of British India. I remember that the mention of my little town in the history books had made me feel so proud.
We would go to native place every summer. Between the siblings of my parents we were atleast a dozen and counting kids. Early morning my grandma would lit up fire to heat the water for us all to take bath, then milk the cows. That smell of wood burning still lingers in my senses when I think about it. Feels like just yesterday when we would sometime wake up early and Aayi would ask me to go back to sleep so to rest some more and I would rather be awake and look at all the events unfolding in front of me. It feels like I was in a slow motion movie when I think about it. Everyone talking in soft voices not to wake up the little ones, soft chewing sound of the calf inside the house, call of the cow for its baby from outside, smell of breakfast and tea, somebody going to well to get water… Ummm.., I feel like I am in dreamland now!
Most of the evenings we would go to the beach to play. Even though it wasn’t the best of the beaches (coz mostly since it was a port there was lot of fisheries that would get their haul and sell) we loved playing in the sand, making sand castles, making ditches and covering them so others could fall into it.. We could go into water only from the other side to Kasargod beach, which would mean somebody should take around there on boat or drive around on bridge. Whenever we did go that side it was even more fun. By the time sun would set we would start walking back, so not to get scolding from everyone.
I remember days when I would tag along with my youngest aunt to her friends’ homes. Watching them I would always act as though I am one of them. I would tag along with my grandma to stores to buy things. When I was little older, I would walk alone to the store down the street for her. On those small streets where cyclist would come as though they own that road, moms would drag the kids away from trouble, ladies with nicely oiled and plated hair with flowers from the garden, girls with big colorful umbrellas, men walking hurriedly….. Our home compound entrance sat on a T-junction, so we could watch people whole day long if we sat outside on the side portico.
Can’t even start explaining the fun that we used to have at my mom’s native place Mirjan. Bang behind my grandpa’s house was a fort. Yes, a real fort. That time no one really cared about that and it was pretty much in shambles. About 15 yrs ago government has recognized it as national treasure and archeological dept sent over people to work on restoration. Now the fort looks much different from what it was before (for good though). The fort was always center of all our topics, wondering about the kings who lived there and how they might have vanished and if there were any ghosts living there. We would go there many a times looking for different kinds of fruits and flowers. There were times when I would have nightmares about it, but it was always my favorite place to visit.
One of the incidents I remember was when only we sisters along with my mom and her cousin went strolling inside. Uncle was very familiar with the place, so he was taking us through stair cases and to different parts of the fort. Then we stopped for some time to look around when we reached a big open area, with a big tree at the end. My second sister who got tired in the heat started walking toward s the tree to sit in the shade. It was almost like in the movie, my uncle ran and pulled her back and scolded her. We were all surprised to find out later that, that stone wall was actually the edge of well and not a seat under the tree. The tree itself had grown from inside the well, and it was soo shaded that with blinding sunshine it was hard to spot the well. I still think back and get chills.
Grandpa’s house itself was a trek for us to reach. The bus would only drop on the highway, and then we would walk atleast two miles inside to get to their house. My mom’s elder sister lived very close to the bus stop. So we would always stop at their house for refreshment or lunch and take some rest. My older cousins would lovingly give us their books to keep us occupied. I remember one hot summer day reaching there and passing out on a lazy chair under the fan!
Thought that the childhood fun was never ending. I feel sad now that I can’t go visit as often as I would before. Even visiting India is like on an itenary. Always feels rushed. When I remember those lazy summer days when we would jump into the water tank for hours, run outside in the rain, hold on to the other side of the manual grinder when mom is grinding spices for lunch, drink numerous tender coconut water, pluck & eat mangoes, jackfrutis, pick all sorts of nuts and try to roast them when Granny wasn’t looking, taking out a cleaning brush from the nook of kitchen and finding a snake sleeping behind, wandering in the garden for hours looking for God knows what!...... I feel a sense of calmness, as though everything has stopped around me and I am back where I always belonged.
My native place is Honnavar. I was born there at a small hospital that sits atop a hill. Honnavar lies on the coast of Arabian sea and on the banks of Sharavati river. It used to be seaport of British India. I remember that the mention of my little town in the history books had made me feel so proud.
We would go to native place every summer. Between the siblings of my parents we were atleast a dozen and counting kids. Early morning my grandma would lit up fire to heat the water for us all to take bath, then milk the cows. That smell of wood burning still lingers in my senses when I think about it. Feels like just yesterday when we would sometime wake up early and Aayi would ask me to go back to sleep so to rest some more and I would rather be awake and look at all the events unfolding in front of me. It feels like I was in a slow motion movie when I think about it. Everyone talking in soft voices not to wake up the little ones, soft chewing sound of the calf inside the house, call of the cow for its baby from outside, smell of breakfast and tea, somebody going to well to get water… Ummm.., I feel like I am in dreamland now!
Most of the evenings we would go to the beach to play. Even though it wasn’t the best of the beaches (coz mostly since it was a port there was lot of fisheries that would get their haul and sell) we loved playing in the sand, making sand castles, making ditches and covering them so others could fall into it.. We could go into water only from the other side to Kasargod beach, which would mean somebody should take around there on boat or drive around on bridge. Whenever we did go that side it was even more fun. By the time sun would set we would start walking back, so not to get scolding from everyone.
I remember days when I would tag along with my youngest aunt to her friends’ homes. Watching them I would always act as though I am one of them. I would tag along with my grandma to stores to buy things. When I was little older, I would walk alone to the store down the street for her. On those small streets where cyclist would come as though they own that road, moms would drag the kids away from trouble, ladies with nicely oiled and plated hair with flowers from the garden, girls with big colorful umbrellas, men walking hurriedly….. Our home compound entrance sat on a T-junction, so we could watch people whole day long if we sat outside on the side portico.
Can’t even start explaining the fun that we used to have at my mom’s native place Mirjan. Bang behind my grandpa’s house was a fort. Yes, a real fort. That time no one really cared about that and it was pretty much in shambles. About 15 yrs ago government has recognized it as national treasure and archeological dept sent over people to work on restoration. Now the fort looks much different from what it was before (for good though). The fort was always center of all our topics, wondering about the kings who lived there and how they might have vanished and if there were any ghosts living there. We would go there many a times looking for different kinds of fruits and flowers. There were times when I would have nightmares about it, but it was always my favorite place to visit.
One of the incidents I remember was when only we sisters along with my mom and her cousin went strolling inside. Uncle was very familiar with the place, so he was taking us through stair cases and to different parts of the fort. Then we stopped for some time to look around when we reached a big open area, with a big tree at the end. My second sister who got tired in the heat started walking toward s the tree to sit in the shade. It was almost like in the movie, my uncle ran and pulled her back and scolded her. We were all surprised to find out later that, that stone wall was actually the edge of well and not a seat under the tree. The tree itself had grown from inside the well, and it was soo shaded that with blinding sunshine it was hard to spot the well. I still think back and get chills.
Grandpa’s house itself was a trek for us to reach. The bus would only drop on the highway, and then we would walk atleast two miles inside to get to their house. My mom’s elder sister lived very close to the bus stop. So we would always stop at their house for refreshment or lunch and take some rest. My older cousins would lovingly give us their books to keep us occupied. I remember one hot summer day reaching there and passing out on a lazy chair under the fan!
Thought that the childhood fun was never ending. I feel sad now that I can’t go visit as often as I would before. Even visiting India is like on an itenary. Always feels rushed. When I remember those lazy summer days when we would jump into the water tank for hours, run outside in the rain, hold on to the other side of the manual grinder when mom is grinding spices for lunch, drink numerous tender coconut water, pluck & eat mangoes, jackfrutis, pick all sorts of nuts and try to roast them when Granny wasn’t looking, taking out a cleaning brush from the nook of kitchen and finding a snake sleeping behind, wandering in the garden for hours looking for God knows what!...... I feel a sense of calmness, as though everything has stopped around me and I am back where I always belonged.
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