The places where moments reside

Its a mental war in a hospital for families

Hospitals are a place where no one wants to go . In the whole crowd of doctors, patient, operation and subsequent related things it all takes a huge toll on the mental state of the attendant/ family. This is my real story and how my father`s operation pushed me to the very edge of my mental state and even beyond- saved only by a anti suicide net. So this is the good, bad and the ugly in those 12 days- 

My father had been experiencing a small swelling in the abdomen and it took various tests over months and a chance diagnosis by a doctor at the Lohia hospital , lucknow to pinpoint the said swelling was a tumour with a very rare cancer. The good thing was that it was in the very very initial stage when it was detected so surgery was the best option. The doctor who was treating father is termed to be a good, capable one to deal with it..his past references spoke highly of him. I had already conditioned my mind to fight this war but even weeks of preparation did not help me out. 

The initial rush started on the day when he was supposed to be admitted. After meeting with the doctor in the OPD in the morning, we were told that the pvt ward would be alloted to us in the evening. Just a few hours before the time, we reached the hospital and completed the formalities. In the meantime I had rushed to the pharmacy shops outside for all the pre operative medical supplies item list I was handed over. The inhouse pharmacy didnt have all. The only support for me and my mother was my maternal uncle who had come down to help because there would be logistical issue to manage both home and hospital. He stayed with my father in the night and I rushed in the morning to relive him for a few hours. Ours was the 1st surgery of the morning and papa`s few colleagues had also come in, lest we need any help with the errands. It went chaos in the next 25 mins after papa was shifted to the pre operative room. The guard outside the room came out saying that the balance has exhausted and more needs to be deposited. My uncle went for that and I was on tenterhooks while any request for supplies should come. During the whole operation I made rounds of the outside pharmacies 4 times only because the inhouse had huge line and I was confident that I could rush 27 stairs to the ground floor and run a distance of some 200 m back and forth outside for the supplies. 

Once I had rushed to the shop all dripping with sweat and panting like I had run an army onstacle course..Handed the requisition slip to the shopkeeper saying," भैया, जल्दी सर्जरी चल रही है ". The other customers saw me and told the person, " हमारा सामान बाद में देना, पहले भाई का करो ". It was a latest anesthisia pump, even the shopkeeper told me, "आप लेकर निकलो, बिल बाद में होता रहेगा". There was so much requisition slips that day that the moment I came back with something, another demand used to come up in the next 10 mins. The test of my patience and anger reached the boiling point when I saw one relative sitting in the gallery whom I do not wish to see even in the city, leave alone hospital. He is that level of a लीचड़  relative. Controlling my anger and not wanting to create a scene, I told my mother to tell them to get lost asap lest I have my bp shoot up. He didnt go and I somehow managed to be quiet. 

Afraid to all things medical in general, I did not go and see my father in the post operative ward once the surgery was over. I saw him in the evening in the ward finally when hospital staff shifted him. Surrounded by tubes of the drip bottle, excess blood bottle , anesthesia bottle and unconscious due to medicine effect I nearly fainted. An old colleague of father saw that something was wrong and when I told him he understood that this sight was too much for me to take in. Opening the eyes, father complained of thirst but the doctors had said no liquid. I had to make sure that he wouldnt talk much. That night I didnt have much of sleep. In the morning I knew all people would start coming knowing that the surgery was over. As I was dealing with the various calls I saw Mr. लीचड़ come with another relative . Had it been another hospital I would have had them thrown out there and then. I waited for them to come near and when his wife attempted to enter the room, I told her " You wont go inside". Stunned by my sharp tone that family did a drama of turning back saying, "हम अपनी बेईज्ज़ती कराने थोड़े न आये हैं " and I replied , "इज्ज़त है भी ?" 

Deeply deeply fragile in the mental state and seeing all that which happened to me since the few days I had made up my mind to jump off the floor (wont go into the various incidents here, they are too personal) but there were safety nets. I was so screwed up. Forever grateful to my college friend who gave me company for one day in the night after few days. That really helped me manage all the running around. 

It took the whole day when there was time to discharge. Running around to return meds, obtaining no dues certificate, completing formalities was all a chaos in itself. After sometime I truly felt like a zombie running around, the mind automatically shut itself off as to what was happening. The post operative was equally hard with utmost care having being taken due to one pipe still being attached. Typed the med instructions in hindi and handed it over so that everyone can read it and follow. I heaved a sigh of relief the day the stiches were cut. 

I went through it all during those days- just before the operation, there was a family whose member was admitted in the CCU(critical care). Suddenly when there was crying I glanced towards them and undestood the bad news. Likewise, one day when I was going to get some medicine did I notice a poor young lady exiting from another building but all smiling with tears of joy. A close scrutiny showed her little bundle of joy all decked up in a warm blanket. I went through all extreme emotions in those days. 

Those 12 days were total ordeal for me and my mental health..The ship is not yet out of the storm..chemo and radio is next and I have no clue how I would handle that in the coming time? 

Whenever we read about some hospitalisation, we care about the patient and the treating doctor we rarely think about the rest of the family members and how even a simple hospitalisation affects them? It might break them, just like it happened with me.... 
Its a mental war in a hospital for families Its a mental war in a hospital for families Reviewed by Shwetabh on 10:01:00 AM Rating: 5

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