Trying to be super-efficient is sometimes a pain. Literally, Mi. These days I sleep late even though I intend to knock off to bed early. What early. By the time I lay my head on my pillow it is almost 1 am. And I have […]
Memories from another day . . .
As usual, the antibiotics are playing havoc with my system. So tired of camping on the porcelain seat of wisdom. When I touch my tummy I can feel the war raging there. I am prepared for this, thanks to the doc warning me. In any case, you know that any meds mess me up. Ah well, as long as the purpose is solved, I guess I am okay. Now that’s the thing you know. I am desperately praying the abscess clears up with meds. I so do not want to go to surgery.
It reminds me of that time when you were admitted in Manipal Northside in 2007. What a horrible experience that was! They just experimented with you and treated you like a guinea pig, medicating you on whim and trying to undo the effects with yet another set of strong medicine. They moved you into ICU and kept you there for two weeks–two weeks!! They couldn’t properly diagnose what caused your low hemoglobin and platelet count and made us run around to procure bags of platelets. Then they even coolly said one day that they didn’t need the extra bag, as if we could keep it in our fridge. Urrgh!
In the course of all this, you had a small mosquito bite like thing on your arm which began to swell. They gave you anti-histamines, assuming it was an allergy. Then it started to grow into a dark bump and they allowed it to reach the stage where you had to have surgery to drain it. Oh and that surgeon! What a gross experience. After that we had to keep visiting the hospital long after you came back home to change the dressing at an exorbitant cost, until we decided to do it at home. What crazy memories.
So now, I’ve got one of those that started as a tiny bump, flared up, subsided, and flared up again. This time it decided to grow into a painful abscess. After trying my own remedies–don’t even get me started on it–I rushed to my doc, who gave me antibiotics for a week and said, let’s hope that takes care of it…if not…it’s the knife. I am so scared. I am praying it doesn’t come to that, Mi. On top of all this, Sury’s sick too with a terrible cough. As I kept up with my steady visits to the loo, he coughed and coughed and didn’t sleep a wink. Good thing we have two bathrooms eh?
Hoping today goes well. No matter what, we make it a point to sit and enjoy our coffee, because…gratitude, you know!
So my heart went back after the short break, Mi. I confess I did a wicked thing—when the airline called to say the Sunday flight was cancelled and asked if they should reschedule for Saturday, I suggested Monday. I mean, why would I cut short that visit, eh? It is funny, you know. The weeks before, we eagerly wait for his arrival. Then as the days pass and the time comes for him to leave, we feel sad. Of course we understand we’re in a good place, etc. etc. but how can one stop feeling emotional about these things? After all, I birthed him, right? I know you know how I feel.
We had a wonderful time, cooking, eating together, chatting, watching TV and movies. We even managed to go out one day for lunch as well as a visit to the bookstore. All in all, not bad at all, numerous hospital visits notwithstanding! Sometimes we just have to decide to be happy, no?
I am even proud of myself for setting aside work almost completely and only going online when I absolutely had to. I just had a great time in the kitchen. I now know exactly what you meant, all those times when you talked about cooking as the most glorious thing to do, while I either smirked or half-listened. I am happy you were right. So happy.
So Diwali came and went. I couldn’t help walking down nostalgia lane to that time when the house would be practically overflowing with sweets and khari. Of course we did change the way we celebrate festivals and traditions, but still. When Vidur was home we’d still go berserk making all the yummies. Now the two of us don’t really feel inclined to—and we felt happy to hear that he had a good time.
I fondly recalled those days when we made gulab jamun, and you would roll out tiny ones for him because he was small and wanted to pop the whole jamun in his mouth and described how nice it was to feel the juice oozing in his mouth. You would keep some fried ones before dunking them in the syrup because he would love to eat it at every stage! Best thing was the instant chakrapongal we made one day. And remember that evening with the long power cut when he wanted to eat vadai? He hung on to you and cajoled you to make it and even promised to “sing for his supper” because he had just learned the phrase. And sing he did, while we whipped up the vadai for him. Lovely memories.
The most hilarious thing was how, on the first Diwali after we moved here, we made loads of mixture and sweet for distribution, thinking people will be in and out of the house with trays. We were so surprised to see people stuck to themselves and did not even wish one another. Only two of our neighbors were friendly at the time and we made it a habit to exchange trays of goodies for every festival. It is heartwarming to think we’ve seen those kids grow up. Did I tell you that K and family live elsewhere because of that gruesome accident? So sad. I get updates when they come to leave their gas cylinder since it is tied to their address here.
Right now our floor is a lonely and very dusty place what with three houses locked, house renovations in full swing and the one family that pretty much keeps to themselves and one of course, our Mrs.G.
Time flies, life goes on, but memories stay fresh, Mi. Which is really a very good thing, no?