The repair - part I

The repair.
We all, usually, don’t think about the complexity of our own body and mind. But we become very aware and concerned, when a problem occurs, however minor it may be. Problems may occur anytime to one’s body or mind. And the problems may be due to internal or external factors.
There’s a saying in Malayalam : “When you have your vision (when you are able to see) , you don’t recognize (or are aware of ) the existence of your eyes”. That’s very true, not only regarding the eyes, but for every part and function of our body and mind. When there’s something wrong with some part of your system, then you feel about it, and worry about it.
When something is wrong with any of your gadgets, what do you do ? You take it to a service centre for repair. That’s what exactly we all do. When some part of our body (or mind) is not functioning right, we take ourselves (or by someone) to a service centre, the hospital.
That’s what exactly happened to me a few weeks back. I had some physical problem, which got developed over a period of time (may be months). My consultant doctor advised me to go to a surgeon, for repairs.
Since I am covered under a Health care scheme ( Thanks to my previous employer, the President of India), I had approached an approved hospital in the city ( Oh Lord ). The surgeon (M), in that hospital, even without an examination, recommended a surgery. Though not an emergency, the surgery must be done at the earliest, to cure the problem. No other technique can resolve it. The surgeon, even before any examination, started :
“Your medical scheme doesnot cover all our charges. So, you have to pay me an extra Rs. 20,000/-, by cash in advance. And I will not give you any receipt for this advance payment. “ I was shocked to hear this. Even before examining a patient, he dictates money ! I said I’ll talk to the Medical Officer who directed me here. Subsequently, the surgeon had a very quick and brief examination, and confirmed the need for surgery.
On reporting the matter to my consultant doctor, on his suggestion, I approached another hospital (J). Here, I was told that the surgeon (AL) is well experienced, but his surgical methods are conventional.
There at this hospital, the surgeon, (without any money matters or payment), examined me and carried out all preliminary investigations. He then asked me to choose my own timing (date) for the operation. When I asked him about the payment, he said : “You need the treatment. You are covered in the medical scheme. The scheme will take care of payments. If at all we charge you anything extra, it will be a very small amount.”. I was impressed. The doctor gave importance to the patient, his illness, and its treatment. Money was the last item to be talked about.
I chose 24 May 2008 for the event (switching over my live !!). So, I was admitted in the evening on 23 May (in Room No. 238, Second floor). The staff (nursing and other support services) made necessary preparations on me, on that day evening. A needle and its valve were planted on my arm, for all necessary medications during the treatment. Oh God, the fitting of this needle was a painful affair. Not that it was something unusual, the staff nurse who attempted the planting was probably inexperienced. She attempted thrice to insert the needle.. only to make an injury and pain. Finally (for the fourth attempt), a senior nurse came in, and did it without any difficulty or pain for me.
Later in the evening, I was directed to visit the Anesthetist (S) for his examination. He, on examination, declared my fitness for the operation. Everything was Ok. However, I was tensed ( though I’ve been telling myself not to ). Thank God.

On 24 May (Thursday), early morning, further preparations, like washing off the stomach, and other monitorings, were in place. A bottle of ‘drips’ was on, and I continued to be mentally stressed. However, I was careful not to show off my tension. I hope I was successful.
At 1040 AM, a stretcher, pulled by an attendant, came to my room. I was put on the stretcher, and the person pulled (or pushed) the stretcher on its way to the operation theatre. The travel was irritating. Lying with a green cloth covered (only face seen out) and looking to the ceiling, the noisy trolley and “kilu-kilu” chat of the attendant and nurses following me …. Through the corridor, one floor down through the lift, and again the corridor, all the way to the operation theatre. Enroute, I could see many people, bystanders and visitors of other patients, looking at me. That was an irritating journey.
I was (the trolley) pushed inside the operation theatre (but not really the exact theatre), through a door marked “Operation Theatre”. I could see my relatives too looking at me, while being pushed in. The trolley was parked in a corridor. Another trolley from inside the theatre came in…. with all its clang noise. I was physically pushed, by the attendants, on to the new trolley (stretcher). A theatre assistant (wearing green dress) came close to me. He looked at me, smiled, and went away. The other trolley (in which I came ) and its accompaniments was about to leave. Two nurses (one nurse and a trainee nurse, I believe) came to me, smled and asked “Uncle, we are going back to the ward.” I said “OK, fine”. The trainee nurse ( a girl from Valiathura, holding my right arm said. “Uncle, if you open your eyes by the time we go, we shall meet” { my translation of what exactly she said in Malayalam may not be precise. ...however !). They, with the trolley went out, leaving a trail of clangs and the kilu-kilu chat, through the narrow corridor. Lying on the new trolley/stretcher, that too in the narrow corridor, I could not see much around me. Only the side walls and the ceiling only. I could hear the chat of people (nurses and assistants) around in the end of the corridor. After sometime, a young man, in his green theatre dress, came to me. ( I met him last day eveving, while the Anethetist examined me). Smiling, he asked me : “How are you ?”. “Fine” I said.
“Are you afraid ?”, he asked me again. “No.. “ I replied. He pulled a metal stand from somewhere near and started (hanging) fitting a bottle with a tube, syringe and its fittings. I already had an attachment on my left arm, for injections and liquid drips. I could see the drops of that liquid (‘drip’) falling into the tubes.. its on its way to my veins.
By this time, I was lying almost dead-like. However, my mind was roaming allover (There are no roaming charges for your mind-roaming ! ).
After a few minutes, some doctor ( I believe Dr. S) came, and standing at my head end , he made my BP check. He ended it with a “OK”. That was an instruction to the assistants. They (2 or 3 persons) pulled my trolley through the sloping (down) long corridor, to the theatre at its end. The trolley was pushed in to the “cold” theatre. The trolley hit the door many times. Then the trolley was placed beside another trolley (the operation table). Once again, I, with my attachments, was pushed onto the trolley (of the table). The other one was pushed out, making much noise.
On he table, I made a survey of what I could see. The room was very chill. Theatre lights, many equipments (??) on the left and right ,… and clock on the right side wall. If I turn my head alittle to the right, I could see the clock. Yeah.. atleast I could know the time.. Its 11 45 Hrs now !
Three theatre assistants – they were chatting loudly on their personal matters, and no consideration of the human being lying in front of them – started preparations on me. One asked me to lie by my side. He started applying some cream (very cold !) on all over my back. He asked me to fold my arms, keeping on my head, and folded my legs butting on to the abdomen. Two of them helped me take this posture. Suddenly, it clicked to me that it’s the baby’s posture in his mother’s womb ! I know its time for my next live ( a sort of rebirth ! ). They are about to inject on my spine. That’s how they are doing “Anesthesia” for me. Someone, behind me, (I think it was Dr.S) started massaging on by back (behind the abdomen). It was chilling and freezing.. Two of the assistants held me very firm and tight in that posture, my face touching the knees. I could feel a thin pain ( or no pain ! ) , when the needle went through. It didn’t make any discomfort. Immediately, they straightened me, pushed me to lie flat, kept my legs spread out, and my hands on to the supports, and strapped down. It was a very fast action.. I knew, I’m going to lose all my sensations on my lower half. Half dead ! Dead down my chest !!
I tried to move my legs.. No 1 …Do I have legs now ? … No.. I tried to move my fingers on the legs.. No..No.. I tried to lift my waist.. No..I made sure for myself, I am half dead, half down. Both my arms were strapped on to the arm-rests on the table. Dr.S mounted a BP apparatus, and some other clips (?) on to my fingers / arms. I could not raise my head to look at those. However, I could see the clock. Its 11 55+ now. I could Dr.S put a mask on my face (just above my nose). It was more cold in the mask. He then put a green cloth on my face (above the mask). Now, I have only a small opening to see through.. rest all covered.
I knew they removed all the cloths I had on my body earlier. I must be naked now !
Through the slit I could see the theatre lights (not on now ) up and some part (hands of the people near me. It must be 1200 now !
Suddenly, I heard a the door opening, and a familiar voice coming in. It was Dr. AL, the surgeon.

To continue…