"Yes, the cab arrived." My dad announced. I got into the cab with an impish feeling that I should have danced at the very moment, as though I was going to attend a wedding of one of my dearest friend! That was not be a wedding, dimwit, it was to be an another physical terrorism act, called chemo! Be prepared for that!
"Should I wait for you at the hospital, or just drop and go?", the cab driver, asked me with an expressionless face, as though the question had come directly from his mind through the center of his eyebrows! I looked at him. He had just kept the vehicle on the run. I chose to have the question dissolved into the cool breeze in th
e wonderful morning. The query came back to me. "You may just drop and go." My reply was like a counter stream of air to prevent the query boomerang onto me. The driver was silent. Probably, the answer cooled the channel through which he ejected the question at the first instance.I looked through the window of the cab as it raced past the buzzing streets of the city - the test-takers were flipping the pages of their notes as a last minute attempt to digest all the subject material with either their fathers or brothers riding; the kids plodding along as though there was some heaviness in their minds; the office goers were zipping with arbitrary speeds through the narrow conduits between the bigger vehicles as though they might miss some thing that would decide their life! My mind, at its back, was continuously engaged in compressing whatever the vehicle numbers that it could sense into a single digit. It spawn another thread of computation that would always take out all the possible nines from a given number! Oh, what an algorithm, damn it! Ecstasy! Was it really!
***
The security person was whistling and directing the vehicles to be in line in the shorter parking space available at the hospital. I got down the cab and helped my dad in doing so. I smiled at the cab driver only to get a composed curve in his lips in return. I cared for it! I walked towards the elevator lobby and reached the third floor, where I found my dearer Sister Lakshmi to get a requisition form for the day's blood test. It had been customary process to have my blood tested for at least a complete blood count before a chemo session would start. This would not only give an idea of the state of the blood corpuscles, but also helps in deciding whether the chemo could be infused or not. I helped Sister Lakshmi, in filling out the form with my patient details and I proceeded toward the second floor after a prompt payment at the single-clerk counter.
The guy in the Lab threw his head up backwards with almost a loud laugh! I could not resist asking for the reason and after it came out, I too joined him in a moment of camaraderie. Reason - my sex was mentioned as female in the requisition form! :) Wish, I were really born a female! Hm! A saucy thought in my mind! I came to the senses when the needle was pricked in my forearm to suck in 2 ml of blood required for the day's test. I agonized briefly for the pain the prick had inflicted on me! Of course, this is the beginning of the anatomical terrorism for the day, I thought and came out with a warm sigh oozing out from my head, touching more warmly my chest.
***
I preferred to wait in the elevator lobby of the third floor - waiting for the blood test results to come out. It usually took around two hours for the results to be out and the waiting time was too trivial to just ignore! I pulled out the latest edition of Frontline, the premier magazine from the publishers of The Hindu, and started browsing the pages. The glossy pages and the deep content dragged me in its world instantly as I perused a report on the youth of India on their several sociological preferences.
Suddenly, the noise started trickling in. A coffee guy with two flasks in one of his hand and a pack of large-sized paper cups in another rushed through the little crowd in the lobby into the serving area. There was a sudden commotion in the staff - nursing, housekeeping and paramedical - to follow the smell of the coffee as though they had a famine of it for eons! Groups of staff would load their cups with coffee and settle themselves down in the chairs available. Gossip flowed down through their minds as natural as an accompanying coffee sip!
"Your mother-in-law prepares upma daily in the morning, uh!" (a loud laughter among the female staff followed targeted at the bewildered male counterpart!)
"I do not understand why I am posted here in this ward for next three weeks! I was good in the earlier ward!" (a moaning staffer to her probable mentor and friend. The mentor-friend raised her brows evincing interest!)
"You cannot be married and free at the same time, guru!" (a male staffer sharing his agony through a jocular statement with another male staffer. An element of surprise was evident in the gape of the female staffer who was following him!)
A free zone in the serving area was bursting with people shouting at the top of their voices to be heard on their cell phones. A mix of languages ranging from Kannada to Marathi to Malayalam to Tamizh to Hindi! It was as though a sante of cell calling!
The noise distracted me and avoided me to carry on with my reading activity. I immediately decided to discontinue with it and just posed motionless in my chair. I saw my oncologist, Dr.Niti, hurrying towards the elevator with her usual energy and gusto. I had an instinct to wish her in the morning, but the momentary mingling of our looks did not last long to allow for that. And, she slipped through the elevator. For the day!
"Oh! The TC (thrombocyte) count fell down to 2.65!" exclaimed Sister Lakshmi looking at the results of the day's blood test, which were orally conveyed to her by the Lab.
"So, is it OK to have a chemo today, Sister?"
"I think I need to check with Dr.Smita or Dr.Niti. Can you please just wait here for a minute?" She imploded in a plain voice and a wide grin.
A minute was unusually longer for me - in the previous spell, there were instances when I was admitted into the hospital for low thrombocyte counts! My fingers were crossed, so were my legs!
"Yes, doctor says you can have your chemo today. It is perfectly OK with this count. Ma'am is confident that you would tolerate the chemo!" Again a grin in Sister Lakshmi's face! Heavens to be thanked!
We proceeded to the ward and I took up a bed in it without talking much to the nursing staff there. I lied down on the bed. The smell of the disinfectants was so strong that it would kick me out of this world! The heavy curtains that enclose the bed and separate from the others were flapping slowly under the mild movement of the air conditioner. I smiled at the part-steel, part-plastic made rod supporting the curtains as though I was missing my friend for a week!
Ah! A week had passed by since the last chemo! And, how terrible was that by the way! Rashes on the chin and groins; severe ache in the joints of thigh and calves; extreme and unknown pain in the head. A melange of thoughts in my mind - on life, on future, on friends, on family, on career, on colleagues, on books, on music, on crushes, on love, on poetry, on this, on that, on what not! Was it a gift to me from my prescient forefathers? Or, was it a boon for my life from Him? Or, was it a phase in which I was throwing out the scrum out of my life? I loved it. I hated it. I felt it either way.
"Did you apply any ointment for the rashes?", asked Dr.Smita, with a casual tone. She was searching my rashes-filled chin as though she wanted to find the solution in the problem itself!
"No." I simply quipped.
"Fine. We shall prescribe Betnovate for you for these rashes. That would work better."
"All right, doctor!"
She left. And, I was left again too with my mind and heart. Alone on the bed. With me looks again fixed on the weird set of three small holes in the false ceiling directly above me.
I was woken up by one of the staffer on duty, Sister Vidya. My eyes were paining a bit and I opened them forcibly as though to see an angel before me! Two nursing interns were curiously accompanying their senior on duty. They were just thrown in awe probably thinking on the maze called treatment to a cancerous person! One of them readied his tone to request checking my blood pressure. I obliged me seeing a strange innocence in his face. He did it in a jiffy and left without noise. And a weighing machine summoned me to record a perfect century! There was an element of sarcasm in my own self thinking that the century that was just recorded would simply cut down by at least 30% in the next few weeks because of the imposing cruelty on the body!
I flipped my head only to meet Brother Harish, the ever helpful and affable staffer! And, a talented pricker too! He reached me with a broad smile and with all the paraphernalia of medical tools and instruments.
"So, you started getting rashes, uh!"
"Chemos are like this only. They inflict misery! Pchch!"
He just returned a bright smile as I hoped for a day very soon that would see me out of this misery! And, he immediately stuck to his job - checking for a good vein for a chemo suffusion, pricking the intra-vein (IV) needle in the found vein, infusing the pre-chemo medication, preparing the chemo injections and directing the other supporting staff on what to observe during the infusion. Great job, dude!
The things were then carried in a perfect symphony!
A 100-ml NS (normal saline) for 10 minutes.
Cetuximab, 500 mg for one hour.
Another 100-ml of NS for another 10 minutes.
Yoohoo! Done with the chemo! For the day! For the week!
"All this process of payment and clearing is done. I shall ask the cabbie to get and pick us up." My father quipped in the background of a melodious Kannada number that was beaming through the radio into my ears! I smiled at myself. Sister Vidya had just come and removed the IV needle from my hand so as to free my hand to have more degrees of freedom. With the latest attained freedom, I wanted to wish her a happy married life as I had gathered that tomorrow would be her last day as a staffer in the hospital and would be soon starting her new phase of life! However, she disappeared with a whiff of wind and long gone before I could bunch up the congratulatory notes for her!
And I was whistling mildly! With an unknown air of freshness in me!
I walked down the reception in the ground floor as though I was victorious in the just concluded battle. The battle against the malignant division of cells. The battle against the concomitant by products of death of the cells. The battle against those phases of mind that would see me in a languid condition. After all, I won the battle. War would be the one which was to be won!
Picture down: My own portrait before the chemo had started. On bed with my own.
The guy in the Lab threw his head up backwards with almost a loud laugh! I could not resist asking for the reason and after it came out, I too joined him in a moment of camaraderie. Reason - my sex was mentioned as female in the requisition form! :) Wish, I were really born a female! Hm! A saucy thought in my mind! I came to the senses when the needle was pricked in my forearm to suck in 2 ml of blood required for the day's test. I agonized briefly for the pain the prick had inflicted on me! Of course, this is the beginning of the anatomical terrorism for the day, I thought and came out with a warm sigh oozing out from my head, touching more warmly my chest.
***
Suddenly, the noise started trickling in. A coffee guy with two flasks in one of his hand and a pack of large-sized paper cups in another rushed through the little crowd in the lobby into the serving area. There was a sudden commotion in the staff - nursing, housekeeping and paramedical - to follow the smell of the coffee as though they had a famine of it for eons! Groups of staff would load their cups with coffee and settle themselves down in the chairs available. Gossip flowed down through their minds as natural as an accompanying coffee sip!
"Your mother-in-law prepares upma daily in the morning, uh!" (a loud laughter among the female staff followed targeted at the bewildered male counterpart!)
"I do not understand why I am posted here in this ward for next three weeks! I was good in the earlier ward!" (a moaning staffer to her probable mentor and friend. The mentor-friend raised her brows evincing interest!)
"You cannot be married and free at the same time, guru!" (a male staffer sharing his agony through a jocular statement with another male staffer. An element of surprise was evident in the gape of the female staffer who was following him!)
A free zone in the serving area was bursting with people shouting at the top of their voices to be heard on their cell phones. A mix of languages ranging from Kannada to Marathi to Malayalam to Tamizh to Hindi! It was as though a sante of cell calling!
The noise distracted me and avoided me to carry on with my reading activity. I immediately decided to discontinue with it and just posed motionless in my chair. I saw my oncologist, Dr.Niti, hurrying towards the elevator with her usual energy and gusto. I had an instinct to wish her in the morning, but the momentary mingling of our looks did not last long to allow for that. And, she slipped through the elevator. For the day!
***
"Oh! The TC (thrombocyte) count fell down to 2.65!" exclaimed Sister Lakshmi looking at the results of the day's blood test, which were orally conveyed to her by the Lab.
"So, is it OK to have a chemo today, Sister?"
"I think I need to check with Dr.Smita or Dr.Niti. Can you please just wait here for a minute?" She imploded in a plain voice and a wide grin.
A minute was unusually longer for me - in the previous spell, there were instances when I was admitted into the hospital for low thrombocyte counts! My fingers were crossed, so were my legs!
"Yes, doctor says you can have your chemo today. It is perfectly OK with this count. Ma'am is confident that you would tolerate the chemo!" Again a grin in Sister Lakshmi's face! Heavens to be thanked!
We proceeded to the ward and I took up a bed in it without talking much to the nursing staff there. I lied down on the bed. The smell of the disinfectants was so strong that it would kick me out of this world! The heavy curtains that enclose the bed and separate from the others were flapping slowly under the mild movement of the air conditioner. I smiled at the part-steel, part-plastic made rod supporting the curtains as though I was missing my friend for a week!
Ah! A week had passed by since the last chemo! And, how terrible was that by the way! Rashes on the chin and groins; severe ache in the joints of thigh and calves; extreme and unknown pain in the head. A melange of thoughts in my mind - on life, on future, on friends, on family, on career, on colleagues, on books, on music, on crushes, on love, on poetry, on this, on that, on what not! Was it a gift to me from my prescient forefathers? Or, was it a boon for my life from Him? Or, was it a phase in which I was throwing out the scrum out of my life? I loved it. I hated it. I felt it either way.
***
"Did you apply any ointment for the rashes?", asked Dr.Smita, with a casual tone. She was searching my rashes-filled chin as though she wanted to find the solution in the problem itself!
"No." I simply quipped.
"Fine. We shall prescribe Betnovate for you for these rashes. That would work better."
"All right, doctor!"
She left. And, I was left again too with my mind and heart. Alone on the bed. With me looks again fixed on the weird set of three small holes in the false ceiling directly above me.
***
I was woken up by one of the staffer on duty, Sister Vidya. My eyes were paining a bit and I opened them forcibly as though to see an angel before me! Two nursing interns were curiously accompanying their senior on duty. They were just thrown in awe probably thinking on the maze called treatment to a cancerous person! One of them readied his tone to request checking my blood pressure. I obliged me seeing a strange innocence in his face. He did it in a jiffy and left without noise. And a weighing machine summoned me to record a perfect century! There was an element of sarcasm in my own self thinking that the century that was just recorded would simply cut down by at least 30% in the next few weeks because of the imposing cruelty on the body!
I flipped my head only to meet Brother Harish, the ever helpful and affable staffer! And, a talented pricker too! He reached me with a broad smile and with all the paraphernalia of medical tools and instruments.
"So, you started getting rashes, uh!"
"Chemos are like this only. They inflict misery! Pchch!"
He just returned a bright smile as I hoped for a day very soon that would see me out of this misery! And, he immediately stuck to his job - checking for a good vein for a chemo suffusion, pricking the intra-vein (IV) needle in the found vein, infusing the pre-chemo medication, preparing the chemo injections and directing the other supporting staff on what to observe during the infusion. Great job, dude!
The things were then carried in a perfect symphony!
A 100-ml NS (normal saline) for 10 minutes.
Cetuximab, 500 mg for one hour.
Another 100-ml of NS for another 10 minutes.
Yoohoo! Done with the chemo! For the day! For the week!
***
"All this process of payment and clearing is done. I shall ask the cabbie to get and pick us up." My father quipped in the background of a melodious Kannada number that was beaming through the radio into my ears! I smiled at myself. Sister Vidya had just come and removed the IV needle from my hand so as to free my hand to have more degrees of freedom. With the latest attained freedom, I wanted to wish her a happy married life as I had gathered that tomorrow would be her last day as a staffer in the hospital and would be soon starting her new phase of life! However, she disappeared with a whiff of wind and long gone before I could bunch up the congratulatory notes for her!
And I was whistling mildly! With an unknown air of freshness in me!
***
I walked down the reception in the ground floor as though I was victorious in the just concluded battle. The battle against the malignant division of cells. The battle against the concomitant by products of death of the cells. The battle against those phases of mind that would see me in a languid condition. After all, I won the battle. War would be the one which was to be won!
***
Picture on top: A leafless tree on Basaveshwara Road. It looked lifeless too and reminded me of the labyrinth of life.Picture down: My own portrait before the chemo had started. On bed with my own.
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