I have taken a long time to get back to my nascent habit of writing down, for the purpose of blogging, from my past. As I did not write anything for the past few months, I was afraid that it may not be possible to get into the mood and continue with this hobby, which I found very fascinating when I began. I did not try doing anything during the last few months, despite repeated and persistent reminders from my daughter who had originally introduced me to this wonderful medium. But my daughter set on her three year old son after me with her original demand for writing and I found myself typing something sitting in front of the computer, as the three year old won't take a no from anyone, let alone me. I tried many tactics to escape from their persistent demands. But after some days, I gave in.
I had found myself in a situation some years back. I was in a deep shock after reading the report obtained after a biopsy, as I found myself asking God why He has given me this punishment, when according to me, I did not deserve such a harsh treatment by any standards. But as has been pointed out by many, the ways and methods of God are not understood and it is best to accept it when you are the chosen one. I had undergone various tests one after the other, after the biopsy, and I was continuing with the tests only to rule out the possibilities, one after the other, under Doctor's advice.
I would take the medical report to the surgeon, after forming a worst opinion about the contents of the report in layman's understanding of the report, only to be directed to undergo another test by the surgeon. So when I collected the final report after spending considerable amount, I did not expect the worst. I had the mortal fear for surgery of any kind and when the doctor told me that the surgery was the only solution and that I would be required to undergo one, his advice took literally the life out of me. My mind was in turmoil and to avoid the eminent surgery, I made many excuses.
Had it not been for the system of my employer, of footing the medical bills first and making recoveries of the ineligible items of medicines and other costs from the salaries, perhaps, one of my excuse of not having enough funds to meet the cost of the operation, would have succeeded without much effort on my part. Besides as is the case with many of my generation, I had the habit of spending without worrying about its effect on my pocket.
For many days I heard emphatic no for a postponement of the surgery or for adopting alternative methods for treating my illness. It was at this time one of my friends narrated the story of his mother who was anxious to get herself operated for her heart problem. He told me that she almost ran towards the operation theater and it was an effort for others to restrain her enthusiasm that day. I did not buy his story at that time, as I felt the consequences of a heart operation at an advanced age was not properly communicated to her.
The story narrated by my friend, re-appeared again in my life in another form many years later. My father in law, who is in his eighties, suffered a intestine problem and doctors advised an immediate surgery, as otherwise, it may lead to many complications. We were afraid of bringing the subject of surgery as a means of treatment, but he surprised us with his firm assertion for opting for the surgery. In my mind I can still see him walking to the operation theater without any sign of apparent worry, in his casual dress and a 'thorthumundu' firmly tied in his inimitable style over his balding head. (How a patient can walk into the operation theater in his own attire may surprise many. Though the concerned people in that hospital did not found anything wrong with this practice. Perhaps I could write about it some other time.)
Coming back to my surgery, I feel fortunate that I listened to doctors and friends, as according to the doctor whom I consult periodically, the number of years I have put in after my surgery, increases the chances of disease free life.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Different Approaches
Reminiscences by
Edappal
at
4:14 PM
Labels: Lessons in life
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