When life threw lemons at me

Over the years, one of the positive adjectives my friends have consistently used to describe me is “Strong”. I have always wondered why they say that about me, because I believe everyone is strong when life needs them to be. More so for women, and you know why.

When my dad was in ICU for the last time in 2016, in semi-coma, I spent a few day and nights at the hospital, almost alone until my brother arrived from US. One person, whose 6 year old daughter was hospitalized for liver transplant, told me “I have been observing you here for a few days. You are very strong. I want my daughter to grow up like you”. Those were big, big words. But when I came to know this person was a pediatrician himself, I was even more flattered. How many patients and attenders would he have seen in his practice!

A few years before that, I had a hairline fracture of my arm and decided not to tell my parents as they would be worried. As luck would have it, my dad had a hip fracture within two days of my fracture, and I had to be his caretaker after the hip replacement surgery. There were times when I used to stand outside the hospital, waiting for an auto, and nurses would instruct me in bewilderment to “Go inside, because in-patients were not allowed to come out alone”. I would tell them I am the attender, and they would go on to ask if dad and I had an accident together.

But finally there came years in my life, when I was impressed at my own grit. I got an inkling of what it takes to be strong. Just an inkling- yes. Because I had a new level of respect for cancer survivors and all those strong, strong people who bounced back at life with such extra ordinary courage.

I am talking about my two ear surgeries gone wrong, and months of intravenous injections after that. The first surgery was a simple tympanoplasty (my previous blog) gone wrong in Feb 2018 . At one point, I was blaming myself in so many ways for the failure. But looking back, I know it was just destined to happen. You will probably concur, when you finish reading this blog.

When I was first told by my ent doctor that I needed five days of IV antibiotics, with the cannula permanently fixed on my hand, it seemed ridiculously impossible. “I have a child and a home to handle”, I told him. But I agreed because there wasn’t much choice. When it was extended to day 6 and day 7, I thought I had been through the worst. Boy, was I so wrong.

By July, I was told I should have another surgery, almost at an emergency due to a pseudomonas ear infection gone deep into the mastoid. It’s the irony of my life. Our dad had feared super bugs during his lifetime. He died fighting a pan antibiotic resistant bacteria. Here I was, fighting another antibiotic resistant bacteria. How many people have I educated about the risks of antibiotic abuse, and yet, this happened exactly to me. (If you are hearing about antibiotic resistance for the first time, I recommend you read up).
We got my second surgery done. At this point, I told my doctors I was completely OK with having a IV cannula in my hand after I was discharged. After all, I had figured out, how to cook , take care of myself and my child with that needle inside my vein.

Another five days of IV antibiotics, and by now, I had made several nurse friends at the local hospital who seemed really worried for me.
By October 1st, after my first outstation trip after the surgery (to Auroville), my ear was discharging again actively and the graft that was operated into my ear was nowhere to be seen. By now, I insisted I must be getting my antibiotic prescription from a “Infectious disease specialist” than an ent doctor. That is how I met this wonderful human being Dr Subramaniam Swaminathan and his team of doctors (Special mention to Dr. Srividhya ma’am). I came home with a prescription for six weeks, thrice a day, strong IV antibiotics. When I say strong, I faced enormous difficulty sourcing six vials of those antibiotics per day. These medicines were usually given in smaller doses for few days, and hence the distributors always ran out of stock in the quantities I ordered.

I also found my wonderful nurse Shakthi, who would unfailingly come home thrice a day and give me the injections. She never once forgot. She never once placed her personal commitments over my medical needs. She went beyond her duties to procure me medicine when I faced difficulty. In fact, my biggest frustration was the constant struggle to order these medicines along with the difficulties I faced as a patient. The medicines were so strong that my vein would bulge in just 24 hours, instead of the usual four days. A new cannula had to be pricked into my vein almost every day. And then, there was antibiotic associated diarrhea. And then my body ached from all the weakness these medicines caused. And the fact that I was hardly interested in food (understandably)

At times, I broke down. I would go and meet Dr Subramanian’s team every few days, even if there was no real need. I was always welcome at their office. My desperate questions were answered with such unmatched patience and honesty. In a way, they were my source of strength.

And then, my house help Samandhi, who has been with me for five years now. There was an initial struggle when she had to take leave due to unavoidable personal issues- exactly when my IV started.
There were days when my five year old champ would do the vessel washing for me. His frustrating naughtiness at other times were compensated by such unforgettable acts of maturity.
Once Samandhi was back to work, she supported me in every possible way, prioritizing my needs over her own, truly feeling for my woes like a sister. It is unusual- but my maid and I were each other’s support system. I helped her financially and intellectually when needed. She helped me with her unfailing sense of duty.

And then, there were my friends. What would life be without them! Believe it or not, my biggest support were my whatsapp group of internet friends (some of whom, I have met eventually). Yes, internet friendship can be real. They were always there with positive words, encouragement, ideas and ready to lend a helping hand if I need.

And then, there is OPOS. Still not heard of OPOS cooking techniques? Then I suggest you read that up too. OPOS is a game changer. You can cook effortlessly and magically with a 2 l cooker or a pressure baker. If not for OPOS, my family would have survived these months on outside food, making it even more difficult for me to keep up my immunity.

If you are still reading, that’s not even the end of the story. My infection relapsed a few weeks after the six weeks IV. I was again prescribed an indefinite course of thrice a day, maximum dose IV antibiotics. My doctor advised me to get a PICC line instead of IV cannula. This one is a line that is almost permanently inserted into your body through an ultrasound guided procedure. It so happened that Krishna and I were alone at that time in Chennai and my in-laws took charge of Krishna while I got myself admitted for the PICC line. There were several amusing incidents as I stayed in the hospital, for the PICC line insertion, without an attender. The last one was when I handed over the discharge slip to the security (Only then, the patient can move out of the hospital). The security checked it and said, “Ok, now where is the patient?” And I nonchalantly told him, “That’s me”, pointing to my PICC line. He apologized profusely and sent me home.

I used to go to hospital to get my morning injection, come home, prepare breakfast and lunch, wake up Krishna, then drop him at school. Once I am alone, I would simply just sleep away my time to escape from the gloom and depression. (Explains my weight gain, and I am finally losing those Kgs). But at the end of it all, I felt so strong- I had completely pushed my limits. My trust in humanity was restored too, from the wonderful people I met on this journey.

Finally I was told that I no longer needed these antibiotics, because now I was having allergic discharge caused as a side effect of surgeries. My ear still gets blocked from time to time. It discharges copiously. It’s scary when that happens. But I am getting used to it. The new normal.

Did I make lemonade when life threw lemons? Yes, because I realized that if I could accomplish so much work amidst such adversity, I was seriously under utilizing my potential. I was finally ready for the second innings of my career. After a four year break. Because if I could face all that, I could face this too, with grace!

I am writing this five months into my journey at my current job- with an altogether new zeal for life.