Hullo people
As some of you may know, and some of you may even care, I was in hospital for the last couple of days. Apparently, one of the disks in my spinal cord decided that it wanted to become inflamed or something. Result, humongous pain and more or less complete immobility.
Parts of this post was originally written from the hospital bed on Sunday night, when I was all alone with noone to talk to and nothing to do. I had begged, bugged and cajoled the nurses into giving me a couple of sheets and this post was written on those.
Since the caller switch beside my bed was not working, I had to crotter (between a crawl and a totter) to the nurse's station to do the cajoling etc, and apparently they took bets on who is slower - a decapitated zombie, a snail or Fat Uncle Cheapo.
Here's what happened. Pain started on Wednesday. By Saturday evening I was crawling. By Sunday morning I was immobile. I couldn't move right, left, up down, couldn't get up, couldn't get down... and so it became apparent that I couldn't survive alone. I needed help. But whom to call, was the question. Runa and Abhijit were in Delhi; Sandy and Chunkubaaz in Bangalore; Bera in Calcutta; Biggani Kaka too busy in genocide; Midas in Mumbai; Crybaby too tired 'coz of national issue thing; Sanchetti evolving into an epic la-de-da bhao-eater and as for She Who Must Be Obeyed, well she had already ordered me not to disturb her whenever I felt like it, so I was too scared to call her (well truthfully, the poor girl has way too many probs already without having to worry abt me..and anyway she is always unreachable on the phn).
So Shailaja once again had to be the rescuer. It's funny. Any time anything happens to any of the ex-Quislexians, it's Shailaja and Minakshi to the rescue.
Talking of Quislexians, it's all Shahir's fault. You see, every year he falls sick in August and we take him to the hospital. This year, he didn't. The bugger transferred it to me! So I ended up with fever, leg pain, stroke and now this.
So anyway, I called Shailaja and she immediately came over and carried me to the hospital where somehow I managed to lose my phone. So then, first there was wheelchair, then the emergency ward, then injection, then doctor, then doctor thinking Shailaja was my wife, then transfer from wheelchair to stretcher, admission, more injections, some more injections, MRI and all the nurses in the ward calling me 'uncle'.
Now during the MRI, some nasty pervert starting pulling off my pants.
"Oye, hands off! I'll take off me own pants!"
Suffice to say that there wasn't a single good-looking nurse around at this epochal moment. I was surrounded by pug ugly male orderlies. MRI done, more injections ahoy!
By this time, I became as hungry as a polar bear in May. So I asked them for food. And what do they give me? Fucking idly. So I begged Shailaja and Minakshi to get me something to eat. The sweet, kind people got me chicken sandwich and aloo bonda. Nyum nyum nyum nyum.
Just when I finished my meal, fucking IV. They puncture my hand and pump me full of antibiotics and steroids.
One thing should be mentioned at this point. They don't have hospital gowns of my size. And my ass is pay-per-view. So I kept on wearing my trouser and T-shirt.
Legions of doctors then started coming over and asking me impertinent questions about my height, weight and sexual status. Upon getting the answers, they called me obese and then pointed at me and in a Nelson Muntzesque way said "You are a 30 year old virgin!! You are such a loser!!Haha!"
Then they put me on IV steroids for some reason. But sinister forces were afoot. There were bubbles in the fluid!!! The dark hands of the secret society of heinosity (who must remain unnamed coz of threats of GBH received from She Who Must Be Obeyed) that is hell bent on the extermination and annihilation,not to mention the complete ruination of Fat Uncle Cheapo's reputation (apparently there is a rumour going around that he is a womanbeater!!!!!
Anyway, to come back to the story, due to the timely intervention of the winsome 2some, crisis was averted and I am still alive (dammit, I can't catch a break). They soon had to leave though.
And crisis for nurses ahoy.
You see, the rule says 1 patient has to be accompanied by1 attendant (the laddie occupying the other cabin in my room had 2 [mom n bro]....plus he had abt 7 diff visitors). I had none. (Shailaja had volunteered but come on I couldn't accept with a clear conscience). So the nurses started pestering me. I told them that look I don't have anyone who can spend the night i na hospital with me so whatcha goona do?
Well, they took their revenge by injecting me with...well 16 injections.
The other laddie tentatively asked me whether the AC could be switched off. A look of utter disdain soon took care of that...although it prompted the mother to recite the names of about a score of major gods in the Hindu pantheon.
But to come to the main problemo.
You have already heard of idly. Guess what the ygave me for dinner.
Rice, dal, loki, curd and boiled papaya. They also had the impertinence to ask if I wanted a glass of milk!!!!
Next day breakfast...guess what
More fucking idly!!!!!
But what broke the Cheapo's back (apart from the periodic thrashings by She Who Must Be Obeyed) was lunch.
There was bhindi good people.
This is inhumane treatment. Them Geneva convention people need to know of this torture.
I decided there and then that I need to discharge myself.
Epic pain I can live with. It is more or less a constant companion.
But bhindi cannot be tolerated.
As some of you may know, and some of you may even care, I was in hospital for the last couple of days. Apparently, one of the disks in my spinal cord decided that it wanted to become inflamed or something. Result, humongous pain and more or less complete immobility.
Parts of this post was originally written from the hospital bed on Sunday night, when I was all alone with noone to talk to and nothing to do. I had begged, bugged and cajoled the nurses into giving me a couple of sheets and this post was written on those.
Since the caller switch beside my bed was not working, I had to crotter (between a crawl and a totter) to the nurse's station to do the cajoling etc, and apparently they took bets on who is slower - a decapitated zombie, a snail or Fat Uncle Cheapo.
Here's what happened. Pain started on Wednesday. By Saturday evening I was crawling. By Sunday morning I was immobile. I couldn't move right, left, up down, couldn't get up, couldn't get down... and so it became apparent that I couldn't survive alone. I needed help. But whom to call, was the question. Runa and Abhijit were in Delhi; Sandy and Chunkubaaz in Bangalore; Bera in Calcutta; Biggani Kaka too busy in genocide; Midas in Mumbai; Crybaby too tired 'coz of national issue thing; Sanchetti evolving into an epic la-de-da bhao-eater and as for She Who Must Be Obeyed, well she had already ordered me not to disturb her whenever I felt like it, so I was too scared to call her (well truthfully, the poor girl has way too many probs already without having to worry abt me..and anyway she is always unreachable on the phn).
So Shailaja once again had to be the rescuer. It's funny. Any time anything happens to any of the ex-Quislexians, it's Shailaja and Minakshi to the rescue.
Talking of Quislexians, it's all Shahir's fault. You see, every year he falls sick in August and we take him to the hospital. This year, he didn't. The bugger transferred it to me! So I ended up with fever, leg pain, stroke and now this.
So anyway, I called Shailaja and she immediately came over and carried me to the hospital where somehow I managed to lose my phone. So then, first there was wheelchair, then the emergency ward, then injection, then doctor, then doctor thinking Shailaja was my wife, then transfer from wheelchair to stretcher, admission, more injections, some more injections, MRI and all the nurses in the ward calling me 'uncle'.
Now during the MRI, some nasty pervert starting pulling off my pants.
"Oye, hands off! I'll take off me own pants!"
Suffice to say that there wasn't a single good-looking nurse around at this epochal moment. I was surrounded by pug ugly male orderlies. MRI done, more injections ahoy!
By this time, I became as hungry as a polar bear in May. So I asked them for food. And what do they give me? Fucking idly. So I begged Shailaja and Minakshi to get me something to eat. The sweet, kind people got me chicken sandwich and aloo bonda. Nyum nyum nyum nyum.
Just when I finished my meal, fucking IV. They puncture my hand and pump me full of antibiotics and steroids.
One thing should be mentioned at this point. They don't have hospital gowns of my size. And my ass is pay-per-view. So I kept on wearing my trouser and T-shirt.
Legions of doctors then started coming over and asking me impertinent questions about my height, weight and sexual status. Upon getting the answers, they called me obese and then pointed at me and in a Nelson Muntzesque way said "You are a 30 year old virgin!! You are such a loser!!Haha!"
Then they put me on IV steroids for some reason. But sinister forces were afoot. There were bubbles in the fluid!!! The dark hands of the secret society of heinosity (who must remain unnamed coz of threats of GBH received from She Who Must Be Obeyed) that is hell bent on the extermination and annihilation,not to mention the complete ruination of Fat Uncle Cheapo's reputation (apparently there is a rumour going around that he is a womanbeater!!!!!
Anyway, to come back to the story, due to the timely intervention of the winsome 2some, crisis was averted and I am still alive (dammit, I can't catch a break). They soon had to leave though.
And crisis for nurses ahoy.
You see, the rule says 1 patient has to be accompanied by1 attendant (the laddie occupying the other cabin in my room had 2 [mom n bro]....plus he had abt 7 diff visitors). I had none. (Shailaja had volunteered but come on I couldn't accept with a clear conscience). So the nurses started pestering me. I told them that look I don't have anyone who can spend the night i na hospital with me so whatcha goona do?
Well, they took their revenge by injecting me with...well 16 injections.
The other laddie tentatively asked me whether the AC could be switched off. A look of utter disdain soon took care of that...although it prompted the mother to recite the names of about a score of major gods in the Hindu pantheon.
But to come to the main problemo.
You have already heard of idly. Guess what the ygave me for dinner.
Rice, dal, loki, curd and boiled papaya. They also had the impertinence to ask if I wanted a glass of milk!!!!
Next day breakfast...guess what
More fucking idly!!!!!
But what broke the Cheapo's back (apart from the periodic thrashings by She Who Must Be Obeyed) was lunch.
There was bhindi good people.
This is inhumane treatment. Them Geneva convention people need to know of this torture.
I decided there and then that I need to discharge myself.
Epic pain I can live with. It is more or less a constant companion.
But bhindi cannot be tolerated.
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