Tuesday, 25 February 2014

I've Been Kissed - part 7 (a tale of love, beauty and stupidity)

continued.....

I'd been kissed.... by a viper in distress

Fortunately, he was hemotoxic (not neurotoxic)
Unfortunately, I had crossed the safe time limit (now things could get complicated) 
Fortunately, I reached the hospital just in time for antivenin 
Unfortunately, I needed more but they had run out of it.

The doctor suggested a few places in Bombay that may have stock. 

Through the dark night
in hope and fear, 
my dad went hospital to hospital, chemist to chemist on his mo-bike, 
in search of the elixir for his daughter’s life.

TIME : 2 AM 
After searching hither tither, finally he got the antivenin vials at Hinduja hospital.

He showed the blood report to the doctor, and requested him for an honest opinion.
“Yes”, he replied, “things do not seem bright”.

Blurry eyed,
clutching the vials of life
dad zoomed blindly on his bike  
tears streaming uncontrollably 
as he rode thru the dark night
pleading for a miracle for his child to survive.

The wind hit his face
it tried his tears to dry
but they refused to subside
non stop they flowed all thru the night.

Back at the hospital, my sister informed my husband in Delhi and my elder sister in U.S. of the fortunate-unfortunate story. 

The month of January is coldest and foggiest in Delhi. Dense fog and zero visibility. All Delhiites go into hibernation. No one is ready to take unnecessary risk to work early or late during winters. All the streets are deserted by 7pm. 

It was a very cold, foggy in Delhi, that night .  Some how, any how, through the dense fog my husband reached the international airport to hop on to an Air-India flight, the first available flight to Bombay that night. 
3 hours later, he was still at the International airport, desperate and panic stricken, waiting for his flight. The fog had created chaos. No flight was allowed to land or take off. 

He fought for a taxi to take him to the domestic airport. 
He pushed through the crowd of hundreds of passengers stranded early morning at the domestic airport and managed to get on to an Indian Airlines flight.  

After 1 hour of sitting inside the parked aircraft, he fought with the captain and the aircrew to get off the plane, as the rest of the passengers sleepily and peacefully waited in their seats, in the aircraft for fair weather.
He bought another a ticket on Jet airways, eventually the first flight to take off  late morning.  

My elder sister in the U.S. kept calling anxiously, every few minutes to check on my condition. In her nervousness, instead of dialling the India code  +91 she dialled 911. 
Within a couple of minutes the cops were at her doorstep.  
"POLICE, Please open the Door" aloud they cried.
The Californian Police had surpassed the response time and efficiency test. 

Surprised, she opened the door and questioned their arrival
Straight faced, they enquired why 911 she had dialled
My sister in India is critical with the kiss of a viper 
inadvertent, she said, was the  911 dial
They checked in and around the house 
to confirm she wasn't in any forced denial
Before they left 
they said "we pray for her survival".

In the ICU, the matron on night duty had a personal score to settle with the young sisters aka nurses. She was a picture perfect matron....tall, mature and chest heavy (the "Carry On Doctor" kind), she yelled as she marched to and fro in the ICU through the night, oddly trying to mother the young 'sisters' and disturb the others. 

She grumbled her life story aloud, her years of hard work and the gray on her head that she had achieved through the many decades of service in the ICU.

Today seemed to be her relieving night. 
She yelled at one and all, without respite.... sisters, ward boys, house keeping et al, while the poor inpatients had no choice and nor means to protest but to go through it in silence.   

Outside in the corridors of KEM, my mother, father and sister sat along side many other family members of inpatients, sleeping on the ground, swatting mosquitoes through the night. 
The father of one young inpatient in the ICU was a regular entertainer. 

Every night, 
to the hospital he returned peekay tight (drunken tight),
only to sleep in the corridor
in sleep, he dreamed and snored
in sleep, he flayed his arms n' legs out of control
as he fought through the swarm of mosquitoes
he dreamed he was a Knight  
while his wife struggled to hold him tight. 

Every night, Mr. P.K. Tight 
brought some respite to the waiting relatives plight   
where minutes seemed like hours through the long drawn night 
on the tension filled corridors of KEM, each night.

Outside on the corridor Peekay's entertainment ensued.
While inside in the ICU, the mighty matron's saga continued. 

In humility and stupidity, I share, 
life in the ICU was an experience extraordinaire  
as an inpatient, I was fully able and aware
while the other inpatients lay unaware, as if they weren't ever there
I was lucky to have survived this tale to write 
what happened when the viper kissed me that night. 



to be continued...... last and final - part 8


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