OCT – 24
Doctor – cough – Doct.. – cough , cough – Doccc..tor – cough, cough, cough – I was still struggling.
Dr. Varalakshmi , on seeing my cough gets the graph of “Fibonacci series”, adjusted her mouth mask, which earlier was not on the place where it was supposed to be. She peered at me patiently, hoping her stare would get out my problem soon from the depth of my damaged throat. But throat wont budge for blank stares. I was still trying for the next syllable after “Doctor –“ . My amma, abnormally calm thus far, broke the spell and poured out my problem.
Doctor ! , my amma started, “Vani has got high fever ever since yesterday morning. Something happened to her throat, she coughs uncontrollably.” The next 10 minutes were effectively utilized by my amma to put forth my problems.
If Varalakshmi was my project manager, amma would have made a impression on her speaking skills but the “Doctor Varalakshmi” was not impressed. Perhaps bored. Her gaze averted and focused on my ear stud. After realizing there is nothing much to stare, she reached the prescription pad and filled it, as if she suddenly remembered the answer for the question which she had been pondering desperately. She explained the prescription as she felt her handwriting demands description.
Amma asked anxiously, What happened to Vani ?
Well , I thought it might be chicken kuniya or swine flu, but her symptoms are not sufficient, the female physician said with the touch of regret. So it must be some viral fever, she added.
We left the place , with mutual disappointment.
I felt cheated by Varalakshmi and doubted her doctor degree. The colorful tablets troubled my soul dwelling. I started to puke. Edibles found my body floppy. Even H20 revenged me. I disgorged vigorously. This concerned my whole family. 100+ high fever and cuddling at the bed corner is considered quite decent form of illness, but puking all over the place with weird noises is not agreeable. In fact it was disgusting. I felt like an overlooked rotten egg which was mistakenly failed to purge for 3 days.
To rub salt on wound, my relatives chose that day to visit our home. Relatives always come at wrong moment. I hate people watching me vomiting with body odor, especially kins. I didn’t go to hospital. Varalakshmi is a family women who want to spent Sunday’s with her sons and not with surreal patients.
I was completely dehydrated, from tip to toe. It only requires few more hours to reach coma. I went to hospital. It was crowded and for some known reason all the kids were crying, especially the bulky one at her mother’s lap cried at high pitch ceaselessly. I might have got nervous breakdown before coma, if not my name was called.
Blurred Varalakshmi, smiled before me eyes. she seemed to have expected this. She ordered the nurse for drips to restore the water supply back on my body. Before I was drowned on sleep or coma, I know not, I saw the nurse nearing me with sharp needle. The drips done their trick. Though that female doctor failed me with cruel medicines, she reclaimed her dignity with drips. After few hours I was back to normal. I mean I regained consciousness nothing much. I still had to catch up with my food which was not easy because in the place of my throat, was then a dark pit with heavy wounds.
After a week
I am writing this post with intermittent coughs for every 2 minutes. I am getting well. I want to eat vanilla milk shake and falooda. But that should wait.