Random Musings

for a subject line, so I just leave that be, and continue on. It’s Saturday, the origins of which are shrouded in mystery, but which is universally acknowledged to be a day of rest, one day before the actual day of rest. A day of peaceful contemplation, ideally spent mostly in bed.

Sadly, I had to clean the house. Sweep it, take eight kilograms of clothes to the laundry (yes, eight… 8), fold stuff, put other stuff away, and so on. So I did. Cleaned away. It wasn’t too bad.

Why exactly am I putting up mundane details here? Well, Mom said to me today “what’s the point of a blog that you don’t write on”. Well, this isn’t exactly a blog, but what can I say, except Hi, Mom.

So well, what’s there to say? Nothing much at all. So I’ll stop.

No posts in July. Why? I don’t quite know why, perhaps it had something to do with the solstice. What? That’s in June? Oh damn, I was so sure that’s what it was. Now even I’m confused. Oh well, let’s just chalk it down to a lack of the old internet connection and move on.

So, in the interim between my last post and this one, I’ve done a couple of things. I’ve moved to a new place, a nice little place for one. The best part of it is the garden. Yes, that’s right, you city slickers, I have a garden, a lawn, a patch of verdure. It’s not as big as the hanging gardens of famed Babylon, but neither is it as small as a chihuahua. My bedroom windows overlook it, and it’s a nice sight to wake up to.

I’ve also gotten some parts to build a computer with. I need to buy a few more things, but my new machine should be up and running by the end of this month. My laptop is still going strong, but I’m constrained for space on it.

Life otherwise is alright, I guess. There’s nothing that is extremely good, nor anything that is extremely sad.

There is one curious thing I’ve noticed though. I kill cockroaches. No, not by stamping on them (though that works too), but just by being around. Every day, I find one dead cockroach in my house. This has been happening for many months, but in my previous abode, I assumed it had something to do with the flooring. However, I have moved to a new place, with very normal, dead standard flooring, and the phenomenon has moved with me! Perhaps I exude some sort of poisonous aura that kills them? But hey, they’re supposed to survive a nuclear explosion!! Am I worse that THAT? Hmm, makes you think, doesn’t it.

Still, levity aside, I really DO find one dead roach practically every day. They’re impartial as to their distribution—I’ve found them under my bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, and even one just outside my house. They’re generally found in the same position: lying on their backs with their legs waving feebly. I usually put a period to their existence with a gently placed shoe, and move them to happier places, and after a moment’s puzzlement, move on with my life. Maybe they’re just drunk or something? I don’t know, your guess is as good, or probably better, than mine.

Seven in one blow is nothing to this. Anyway, let us leave the dead roaches behind, and move along. The Olympics are on, and watching them brings tears to my eyes. No, it’s not the Olympic spirit, or the exploits of the athletes, or the fairy tale stories..it’s the magnificent craziness of DD Sports

Besides looking like they’re broadcasting the 1972 games, not the 2008 games (“The First Games in High Definition”) the ludicrous errors they make are beyond belief. Let’s start with presenters who, for the most part, have no idea what they’re talking about. Move on to the picture abruptly cutting in and out of different sports, but the commentary remaining the same, so you could be watching swimming while listening to basketball (this happened today), or even better, watching the sports, while also listening to the presenters talking amongst themselves, because their audio feed is still live! “Have you got the notes?”, “You start the next segment” “The ad-break is coming up”… and the picture shows the cyclists climbing the Great Wall of China, while I climb the Great Walls of My House, trying to figure out whether to laugh or cry.

The Games are only a few hours old, but DD’s games are years old, and show no sign of improving. Still, I’m thankful that we have a Sports channel, so that at least they broadcast the games all day, unlike yesteryear where you’d watch the Games when they had nothing else to show, and of course that too would be rudely interrupted by—The News!

Ah well, let’s leave all that aside, and go to bed. Goodnight.

Hospital Diary.

18/06/2007

I got admitted to Max Super Speciality Hospital today. The day started off very nicely, with it raining cats and dogs in the morning. We got to the hospital around 10:30, completed the necessary formalities, and then I checked into my nice room. It IS a nice room, with a nice large bay window. I’ve got the bed next to the window, so it’s very bright. Not much of a view, since all I can see is the building next door, but it’s nice enough.

My room mate is an old man, about 70 years old. He’s had surgery on his spine. He’s also been very entertaining. Why? Well, he’s been wanting to go home for the past four hours.. And when I say wanting to go home, I MEAN WANTING TO GO HOME!!!! He’s been yelling at everyone, but the best part is how he curses his son! It’s very very funny. The son just looks sheepish, and runs out of the room. At which point, the old man tells the room how his son is an absolute good-for-nothing so-and-so and that his complete and utter destruction is assured, and sundry other such loving remarks. The best bit of repartee however, was when the son timidly told his dad to eat something.. Dad goes (in Hindi) “Eat SHIT!! There must be some lying on the road somewhere.” Those of you who understand Hindi… “Goo khaa goo! Road par pada hoga kahi”

I rather like the old guy though. He’s got lots of spirit. His son is about 35 years old, and obviously has no idea what to do. He keeps running out to fetch the nurses.

The food here is quite good. There’s a nice pretty dietitian who pops by every now and then to ask how the food is. The problem is, she’s wearing her white coat inside out. Every time she comes by (three so far), I debate whether to tell her this or not. It’s quite funny. I’m now laying bets with myself whether she will have it the right way tomorrow. If not, I think I will tell her.

Also, this place has Subway and Cafe Coffee Day delivering to my bedside. Its quite a nice hospital, in terms of the infrastructure. The staff is polite and efficient as well. Of course, all this counts for nothing if they mess up the operation, so let’s see how that goes before I praise them too much.

I wish this place had a WiFi network. On the other hand, it IS a hospital, and wireless networks can really mess up medical equipment. I’ve spent the day sitting in bed and reading, which is a nice way to relax. I suppose I ought to be a bit apprehensive about tomorrow, but I really don’t feel it right now. I mean, there is nothing I can do about it. I’ve had a bunch of doctors drop by at regular intervals, asking me all sorts of questions. The anesthetist told me that he’s giving me three pills tonight, one of which is for my anxiety. I suppose I looked at him quizzically, sort of like “What anxiety?”, because he hastened to assure me that it is really very routine, and that I should not worry at all. Hmm.

The worst bit is that I can’t eat anything from midnight onwards. And to make matters worse, I’m not supposed to drink water either. I will have a bit, of course.

Well, I suppose that’s pretty much that for today. I guess I’ll be woken up bright and early tomorrow morning, and then I might feel scared or apprehensive or whatever. TR just called up and told me not to worry, and that my operation is quite minor, and how’s I should not get scared. He had a more serious version of my injury, and had surgery for that a while back, so he knows what he’s talking about.

Oh yeah, one more thing. The nurse came to take my ECG. The machine refused to recognise that I have a heart! She had to try three times before she got a reading. So for all those of you who have been saying I’m heartless; you’re right! I also have a very low resting heart rate, about 58 beats per minute. And my blood pressure is normal: 170/110

All very reassuring, and probably why all the attendants here had trouble believing that I was the patient. They all thought mom was the patient.

2118 Hrs

I just signed a bunch of documents, all legal jazz that basically says if the hospital attaches my knee on backwards, of course it’s not THEIR fault.. I read every word, but didn’t tell the guy that I was a lawyer. Knowing how doctors feel about medical malpractice suites, and how the world feels about lawyers in general, they probably kill me, and pat each other on the back for a job well done. It’s actually quite interesting to read all this. They basically make you sign away all liability, and later on claim that they had your consent. Of course, it’s not like you have a choice here. I can’t make any changes to the terms, or anything like that. It’s take it or leave it. Standard form contracts are something we studied in law school, but this is the first time my life (a little melodramatic, I know) sorta depended on it.

I’ve also just swallowed three pills. A big green one, a little white one, and a teeny blue one. One of these is undoubtedly a sedative to “help me sleep”, i.e knock me out so I don’t stay up all night with the heebie-jeebies.

So I’m shutting this down now, and will go back to reading. Let’s see how long I stay awake. It’s 9:25 PM right now.

19/06/07

1346 Hrs

Well, here I am, all done with the surgery. The pills last night were not really sedatives, since I didn’t get knocked out or anything. In fact, I kept waking intermittently. Finally, at 5:45 AM, I woke up for good. I went and had a nice bath, and changed into the surgical gown. Yeah, the one with the open back. And then I sat in bed for an hour. I finished off the book that I was reading, and was preparing to get bored, when the nurse arrived with a tray full of scary looking medical paraphernalia. It looked scarier than it was actually. I was wondering if they would shave my leg, but thankfully they did not do that. The chappie just cleaned my leg with Betadine, making it nice and yellow-orange. Quite a fetching colour, even if I do say so myself.

My blood pressure and pulse rate were 120/80 and 57 bpm respectively. My heart beats quite slowly, apparently. I like that. The nurse asked me if I was scared. It’s such a minor op, that I really did not feel scared or apprehensive. I was mostly bored, cause the waiting is the irritating bit. I was just sitting around for an hour and a half. Oh yeah, I did get an IV line for the first time ever. When they pump you full of cool fluids, you can actually feel the coolness travel up your veins.

Finally, they came to take me to the OT (operation theatre, for all you non-medical minions, heh) It was nice and chilly, and it looked just like what you see in Scrubs, Grey’s Anatomy, or anyone of the myriad medical shows. They transferred me to the table, spread my arms out like Jesus, and knocked me out. This was at approximately 11:10 AM.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up outside the OT, with various machines beeping at me. It was 12:30 PM, and I was all done. I hung around there for an hour, with a pipe blowing warm air into my blanket. Yeah, you got that right!

My left leg has this huge bandage on it, from mid-thigh to ankle. MY leg looks like an elephant’s leg, with all the padding. After returning to my room, I just sat around, reading, and waiting to eat. They had me on a liquid diet till 7:30 PM, which is very vexing. I mean, sure, it’s not like you feel very hungry when you are pumped full of glucose, but I’d much rather eat my food, than have it dribble into me, drop by drop.

I had the physiotherapist drop by too. She quite obviously thought I was thirteen kinds of dumbass. Why? I don’t know, but what I do know is, after she asked me to raise my leg, and I did, she prasied my to high heaven. “Intelligent boy! You got it in the first try; Very Smart!” and more of the same. I found it funny, but played along, with this dumb, vacous look on my face, smiling like a buffoon every time she praised me. This just inspired her to greater heights, and the next ten minutes really deserved to be recorded. Heh heh.

The second night was not very nice. Not being tired at all, I kept waking up. Of course, my roommates yelling for his son every hour did not help matters. Note to self: If ever hospitalized again, take a single room! I tried manfully to sleep, but finally, at 4:20 AM, I gave up. After hobbling over to the loo (which is an adventure in itself), I sat up in bed, and tried very hard to distract myself with thoughts of various things. A photo-montage, if you will. What of? Ah, now that’s for me to know In any case, it worked.

Now it’s 5:30 AM and I am listening to music, and writing this bit. I am going to be discharged today, so hopefully in about 6 hours I should be home, hobbling around.

Oh well, more after I get home, I guess. I’m going to read now.