Skip to main content

Rainbow

It is the 14th day today at the hospital. The nurses are becoming more than familiar faces but they do change quite often. I miss Heather the old nurse who generally comes in the morning. I think she is taking a break as I haven't seen her for a few days.

There is so much activity in the room. Liquids after liquids are infused into the vein. I have stopped taking a note of what all is being given after the first few days of inquisitiveness. Then the machine beeps after every refill. Every ten minutes, pulse rate, temperature, and blood pressure is monitored. "No aches, no pains, no nausea?", the nurse asks. You say, "No". She replies, "All good." You heave a sigh of relief.

I have discovered good tea at the hospital. I look forward to the volunteers who go round with a trolley of tea, coffee and soft drinks and knock at the door. They always come in with a smile. There are times when every smile, even from strangers, feel so warm in the heart.

At the lift, I meet all kinds of people. I wonder who in their next of kith or kin is in for the long haul. I wonder what their story is.

The doctors say we are going to be here for at least another two weeks till they see some movement in the bone marrow. We know the marrow does not start working overnight after it has been detoxified. So we are OK with the news. Just praying the neutrophils shoot up again so that the body's immunity is back on track.

After a relatively warm day, it rained as the sun set. And somewhere out of the window, Lolo and I spotted a rainbow and looked at it together. It stood for a while. The liquid refill machine beeps. Back to reality. Hoping tomorrow is altogether a new day.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Mad Man Or A Boor

What does one do when one encounters a mad dog? Or what does one do when one encounters a man with pre-fixed notions about everything in life, most specifically of women who live alone and give him some importance? The two are equivalent to me and basic intelligence says avoid the paths they tread like plague. But I chose to tackle them head on. I almost got rabbies. The mad man said [sic] " You sound like a very desperate person. A single and frustrated woman who is looking for anyone to leave a comment on your blog so much so that you wouldn't even spare a spammer ." Spammer being, the first comment on the previous post is apparently a spam, an advert for T-shirts. Bummer! I thought it was a handsome Spaniard or Latino, so I had replied "Hi Rodrigo", hoping to take the conversation forward offline. Anyway! All this the mad man found out. I didnt. Sure, I dig comments because I love the spontaneity and intelligence of my friends. And I didn't invite the ma

O-B-A-M-A

Two million people at the National Mall in Washington alone. The world watched too as Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th President of the United States. So did I. I rudely cut roomie's soap operas and switched to CNN to witness history being created. Some day I may live to tell the tale of how Barack, the much touted Afro-American President of the United States, stumbled with his swearing-in oath. I was a bit disappointed as I watched the man who had run the most successful of election campaigns, the man who Americans were pinning their hopes on, take his oath. Clearly, he was under too much of a pressure to be the best. So before Chief Justice John Roberts could complete the first sentence, there was Obama abruptly breaking out into his first names... " I Barack Hussein Obama.." and then waited for the judge to complete the sentence.. The next line was even taxing. He stopped short after two words... " That I will excute ..." and then Justice Roberts cont

Good Girls Don't Drink?

I have been disturbed by the news coming out of my region – the northeast of India - where a teenage girl coming out of a bar at 9:30 pm was molested and beaten by a group of 20 men. The news has even found its way down under for the shocking nature of it. Tabloids and even TV have carried the news. I have always prided myself in belonging to a region that is known for its high tolerance and where women are generally safe and independent. But I have always felt a bit squidgy about Guwahati unlike the rest of the seven sisters. The place is so like the rest of India in many ways, dirty and claustrophobic. That explains why bars are looked upon as sleazy places and women going there beaten up as with the recent case. Just 150 km away is Shillong, the place where I grew up. Night clubs thrive there and till date there has been no case of attacks against women. Reading the news, I am appalled by some of the reactions. “But the girl was drinking,” or “only prostitutes visit that