It was 2:30am on Good Friday. I had promised myself I would practice abstinence from meat and alcohol and that I would completely skip a meal on this day to mourn the crucifixion of Christ. Little did I know that I would be compelled to do this and more - fast for the next 72 hours! As soon as I collected my thoughts, I felt my bowels lurch. I doubled over with a grimace as I got off the bed in my hotel room in Ludhiana where I was on business tour. I rushed to the toilet and felt a wave of relief and the deep satisfaction that suffuses you after a rather copious evacuation. This turned out to be short-lived as I then threw up and this alternate and periodic voiding of my innards went on and on and on. I was weakened and could barely stand now.
It was morning and about time too that I should warn my office colleagues of my condition. One look at me and they felt I had seen a ghost. With barely enough strength to dress and with unsteady bearing, we visited a local physician who advised that I be put on a drip. I looked up in alarm and shook my head, meekly admitting to the doctor that a grown man like me was petrified of needles. The smirk on his countenance would have me lecture him on the concept of phobia, should he be uninformed as such, and my momentary irritation would have him tagged a country bumpkin.
I suffered in silence periodically throwing up, even as my office colleagues, who had accompanied me on this tour, prayed for an improvement in my condition. Finally, and since my heart had begun palpitations on account of low blood volume and possible electrolyte imbalance, it became imperative that I go to a hospital. When I did arrive at the hospital at 11:15am the next day, I had to be swept into emergency services and the readout from the ECG that was strapped on me in a flurry, sent the medics into a tizzy. My heart needed the over-riding electrical impulse of an external pace-maker to subdue its runaway beats. Such cardiac intervention was alarming enough to warrant the spread, like wild-fire, of news that I had suffered a cardiac event. It caused shock and indignant denial from everyone that knows me and more so with Monsoon and Bryan, who reserved comment with stoic resolve until then reached the hospital.
I was in a daze and drifted in and out of consciousness; a brief journey to the nether world, a resurrection of sorts, is all I could recall, from the flurry of activity around me and my own intermittent blissful drift to a gamma wave sleep. My heart having attained a semblance of normalcy, I was shifted to ICU for further treatment and evaluation, as clinical parameters for my liver and renal function were still a cause for concern.
It was the brilliance of Dr Gautam Ahluwalia, who surmised that I might be afflicted with LEPTOSPIROSIS, that saved me a prolonged tenure at the hospital. I was put on a dose of Doxycycline and within 12 hours my condition had stabilized. Monsoon and Bryan reached me after an exhausting 8 hr road journey from Delhi to Ludhiana. They were informed enroute that I was fine and upon arriving at the ICU at 2am, I could sense their relief in seeing me smile.
I spent the next four days in the company of pretty nurses who exhibited a quiet efficiency and mellifluous intonation when periodically fussing over me with their pleasant ministrations. I felt reassured that I was in good hands. Such hospitality was perhaps accentuated by the delicious meals that were served me and the constant enquiry by the dietician on its sufficiency, quality and flavor. Soon I was grippped with boredom and an urgent desire to go home. After what seemed like an eternity, I was relieved to be discharged. We flew down to Mumbai and I came home to a glorious welcome from Dojo, who could not contain his excitement thru' his yelps while darting in and out of all rooms in the house.
I was blessed with good friends from the running community and felt the warm comfort and wishes of Madhu, Pramila, Ashok, Srinivas, Amit, Rohit and Ashwin, who visited my place. The chocolates and souvenirs that Madhu and Pramila gifted me from their vacation overseas, endeared them to me. A week later, I had follow up tests done to check the status of my heart and I received the news of its normalcy and function with relief and a quiet prayer to the Blessed Virgin. My friends, family and colleagues could breathe easy knowing that I had not suffered a cardiac event and that it was merely an inflammation of the cardiac muscle that had triggered complications that sent alarm bells ringing. Holy saturday at midday, the day I was admitted to hospital, brought a darkness at noon in my life; my darkest hour in a life that has otherwise been devoid of any major illness or medical emergency.
The lord is my shepherd
there is nothing I shall want
Fresh and green are the pastures
where he gives me repose
Near restful waters he leads me
to revive my drooping spirit
The lord is my shepherd
there is nothing I shall want.
It was morning and about time too that I should warn my office colleagues of my condition. One look at me and they felt I had seen a ghost. With barely enough strength to dress and with unsteady bearing, we visited a local physician who advised that I be put on a drip. I looked up in alarm and shook my head, meekly admitting to the doctor that a grown man like me was petrified of needles. The smirk on his countenance would have me lecture him on the concept of phobia, should he be uninformed as such, and my momentary irritation would have him tagged a country bumpkin.
I suffered in silence periodically throwing up, even as my office colleagues, who had accompanied me on this tour, prayed for an improvement in my condition. Finally, and since my heart had begun palpitations on account of low blood volume and possible electrolyte imbalance, it became imperative that I go to a hospital. When I did arrive at the hospital at 11:15am the next day, I had to be swept into emergency services and the readout from the ECG that was strapped on me in a flurry, sent the medics into a tizzy. My heart needed the over-riding electrical impulse of an external pace-maker to subdue its runaway beats. Such cardiac intervention was alarming enough to warrant the spread, like wild-fire, of news that I had suffered a cardiac event. It caused shock and indignant denial from everyone that knows me and more so with Monsoon and Bryan, who reserved comment with stoic resolve until then reached the hospital.
I was in a daze and drifted in and out of consciousness; a brief journey to the nether world, a resurrection of sorts, is all I could recall, from the flurry of activity around me and my own intermittent blissful drift to a gamma wave sleep. My heart having attained a semblance of normalcy, I was shifted to ICU for further treatment and evaluation, as clinical parameters for my liver and renal function were still a cause for concern.
It was the brilliance of Dr Gautam Ahluwalia, who surmised that I might be afflicted with LEPTOSPIROSIS, that saved me a prolonged tenure at the hospital. I was put on a dose of Doxycycline and within 12 hours my condition had stabilized. Monsoon and Bryan reached me after an exhausting 8 hr road journey from Delhi to Ludhiana. They were informed enroute that I was fine and upon arriving at the ICU at 2am, I could sense their relief in seeing me smile.
I spent the next four days in the company of pretty nurses who exhibited a quiet efficiency and mellifluous intonation when periodically fussing over me with their pleasant ministrations. I felt reassured that I was in good hands. Such hospitality was perhaps accentuated by the delicious meals that were served me and the constant enquiry by the dietician on its sufficiency, quality and flavor. Soon I was grippped with boredom and an urgent desire to go home. After what seemed like an eternity, I was relieved to be discharged. We flew down to Mumbai and I came home to a glorious welcome from Dojo, who could not contain his excitement thru' his yelps while darting in and out of all rooms in the house.
I was blessed with good friends from the running community and felt the warm comfort and wishes of Madhu, Pramila, Ashok, Srinivas, Amit, Rohit and Ashwin, who visited my place. The chocolates and souvenirs that Madhu and Pramila gifted me from their vacation overseas, endeared them to me. A week later, I had follow up tests done to check the status of my heart and I received the news of its normalcy and function with relief and a quiet prayer to the Blessed Virgin. My friends, family and colleagues could breathe easy knowing that I had not suffered a cardiac event and that it was merely an inflammation of the cardiac muscle that had triggered complications that sent alarm bells ringing. Holy saturday at midday, the day I was admitted to hospital, brought a darkness at noon in my life; my darkest hour in a life that has otherwise been devoid of any major illness or medical emergency.
The lord is my shepherd
there is nothing I shall want
Fresh and green are the pastures
where he gives me repose
Near restful waters he leads me
to revive my drooping spirit
The lord is my shepherd
there is nothing I shall want.
