The Summer of 98 - Part2

So the exams were over and as planned , I had to go to Manipal to see the doctor. We went in a week or so, and this time we met the doc.He was a nice person and at a later stage we came to learn that he was a distant relative of ours :).This time they did some diagnosis and FNAC(Fine needle aspiration cytology). The diagnosis would take a week and they asked us to come back a week later. Those days there was no cell phone nor was there a practice of informing people on phone.A week later we went again this time mom and brother also came along. The diagnosis was out. I was only told that its some minor thing.But it was a malignant tumor,called muco epidermoid carcenoma.It is obvious why I was not told about this.I was admitted and the surgery was to be performed to remove the tumour and it was scheduled for April 20th. It was the day finally. I was given a dose of sedatives in the morning so that I would sleep off and there is no pre surgical anxiety running high. I do not clearly remember whem my normal clothes where removed and a white cotton shirt and paijama were put on. This was like preparing a bakra before sacrifice. So there I lay on the cold table in a lose white shirt and a paijama,with heavy eyes,trying to embrace onto sleep at the same time wondering what will happen when I will be on the other side of this deep trance. Anasthesia was administered. The doc asked me to count 1,2,3 .. and thats it I was knocked unconscious. It was a 13 hour surgery and my dad had cried many times during the surgery , I was told. The tumor was the size of a small sized tomato it seems. They had also performed some microscopic surgery on the neck region. I remember lying with a heavy head and face and a feel of thick layer of bandages around my head, Lying on a table in a dimly lit,cold room, I do not remember when I clearly regained consciousness. I saw a nurse standing beside my bed and I asked her if the surgery was over and she nodded or said "Yes". I sighed. A little later mother was there standing beside nodding her head. Her expressions were so decieving, I would not sense a thing about the grave situation. I had come literally out of the mouth of death. Sometimes in ignorance,I ask in return was I really supposed to live?. Who would answer such things?, forget it!. I can faintly recall a night a when I was moaning in sleep because of the pain. At that time pain had been so immense and wide spread that my body had gone numb. They had strapped a sensor kind of thing on my left arm which would indicate if I was experiencing a lot of pain. I do not remember the date or the day. The next morning, I was trying to get out of bed and lay my feet onto the ground probably after 2 days. But I could not move my feet. They were dropping lifeless . I had lost control over them. I could not rest my body on them and stand on them. They simply would not respond. I was kind of shocked. I was carried to the toilet with the help of others while I rested my hands on their shoulders and tried to walk. Doctor said this was something serious , a GB syndrome possibly. My dad started crying inconsolably as the doc said this, since he knew how serious a disease that is. I can sense his desperateness. A helpless father who could do nothing to save his son from slipping into the hands of death. I was sitting there, shell shocked, staring in complete disbelief towards my dad, who through out my childhood had embodied a strong character with lots of principles and values,who would not budge under any fear or pressure,was crying like child. I could do nothing, not saying a word to console him. I needed someone to shake me out of all this. I was lost in all this drama.Even today what happened to me doesn't make me all that sad,except this day or all those times my parents have had to bear so much pain,which made them cry. My eyes well up in tears and I get depressed at the picture of this event. A fit of rage takes me over and I feel like smashing everything around me or hurting myself. It has left a permanent scar in my mind. The doctor uttered, "Well!! this is a million dollar situation!" and called the nurse to instruct her something. I would practice walking with the help of others,who would hold a bottle which was connected to a hole in my neck through a pipe, meant to suck out the fluid waste, in a bucket. This was an extra appendage to my body for a few days. Thankfully in a course of few days I regained control over my feet and could walk normally. It was simply because of a condition developed after a long spell of anesthasia. All the muscles would totally relax and would drop almost lifeless. So did my feet during the long surgery, and it had taken little late to recover from the slumber. Things were actually getting worse and one more shocker was waiting for me. One early morning, I had faintly woken up from sleep and I saw mom talking over the phone near the reception and dad trying to console her. Later in the day mom left to Agasur(her maternal home)telling me that, " Amma(grandma) was not feeling well and I need to see her". It was only when she returned a day later, I came to know that it was not the truth. One more of my uncles had come to see me, dad was standing near the bed and he said in a low tone," Amma is no more in this world!" . That sounded like a dialogue from a movie. But it was truth and nothing less than that. Far away from the fake of movies. It was like a sudden lightning in a calm sky. My eyes were popped out, in shock. I had not a lost a loved one till then and it was more than shocking to hear such a thing under the circumstances. I still feel guilty, since I somehow feel, she had worried too much on me and that caused it. She was a beloved gradma for all of us. She had raised me as a new born and given me a lot of love throughout my child hood.I still wonder at my mom's strength, when she could only see her mother being cremated and not a single day to mourn with her sisters when on the other hand she had a son who had been just slicked away from death. What pain it must have been! Like always she emerged from it all. My brother Suvrat was there in Agasur, going through all this. Probably his childhood rescued him from all the pain at that tender age away from parents alone in all this. Meanwhile the main cuplrit and the protagonist of the story , thats me ,was slowly recovering from the post surgical blues. I was popping many tablets, all of different color and taste. I was discharged from the surgical ward. I was given a break of few days and I had to return back for radiotherapy for the next one and half months.