For those of you who know me, you know that I recently underwent surgery to 'get those darn tonsils removed.' Not without reason, they were causing me a lot of trouble, they were. But the experience. Something I know that I do not wish to experience again in my life, and yet a truly out-of-this-world experience.
After a lot of debate on whether I should bother you with the details, my not-so-generous mind fell in favour of Bother. Got admitted on Friday night. Dingy little room, with a tiny little TV set, with bad reception. I had complained that my breathing was a little uneasy, so they put me on a nebuliser. I had a something strapped on that would only have otherwise been called an oxygen mask by me, except it was a nebuliser, and the mask was connected to a machine that when switched on, started emitting air no different (according to me) from the air outside of it. I was advised to breathe deeply from it for about 20 minutes. Then an IV to administer some medicine, and no food till after the operation. Also a sleeping pill, so I sleep well, despite potential worries.
The operation was scheduled the next morning at about 10. I was told I'd be moved in to the operation theatre at about 9.30. And I have to admit, as that time grew nearer, I really began to get scared. Once I was in the ICU in that green gown, that was as afraid as one could get. Felt nauseated, and actually vomitted a little bit of water, despite not having consumed anything for the last 12 hours. They then took me to the operation theatre. This is where the real experience began.
The anesthetist held up a mask to my face saying it was oxygen, and given his designation, I realised it was some form of anesthesia. The next thing I remember is being in some sort of dream state. There are voices around me, and the beeping of machinery. After a while of what was definitely a dream, I slowly became aware that I was being operated on. I remembered that I was getting ready for surgery, so this must be it, and this is not a dream. And then I could distinctly identify my surgeon's voice. Heard him say some things, but I heard only bits and pieces. Apparently I kept drifting in and out of this state of awareness. Fragments like "That is difficult" and "Remove it" I recall. It seems unbelievable, but I knew what was happening but couldn't do anything about it. I had also decided then to blog about the experience. I couldn't even lift a finger. My mouth felt open and I realised he'd put some sort of support to keep it open. Then the clanging of his instruments against my teeth. I felt a sort of tugging against the insides of my mouth and it got a little uncomfortable. I wondered if the dosage of anesthesia was a little lower than should have been, because it was leading me to be this aware. I wanted to tell them to give me some more, but again, I was helpless. Only the brain was working overtime, everything else had taken the day off by the looks of it. But my assumption was that I kept going back to dream state and then snapping out of it, I felt the need to remind myself that my operation was happening, and that I need to be aware of it. The whole experience made me thoroughly uncomfortable, especially the tugging in the mouth, and yet, I believe it was something. It reminded me of something I had read in one of Feynman's books in which he had described how he would be acutely aware of everything that was happening in the course of his dreams.
When it was over, the surgeon stopped tugging and I could feel some spraying of water in my mouth. He called out my name a couple of times, informed me that it was over. I think this was when they put me off the anesthesia, but I was still unable to react for a while, although I heard him loud and clear. Tried moving my fingers, and then it struck me how similar this was to the movies and recovering patients. After a few attempts, I did it, moved a finger, and was able to grunt out a response to the doctor. He asked me some more questions (Do you know who I am?) to which I replied, I suspect, in barely audible tones. Then I was moved to the ICU again, where I was in some sort of trance, and slowly realised I couldn't speak much and that my throat had begun to hurt terribly. Well its still hurting, 5 days later, now my ears hurt too, but I told my tale!
Also, for all those people who believe post-tonsillectomy is some sort of heaven where you're allowed to have all the ice creams and goodies that you want to, I have to let you know that its near-hell, the ice creams are forced down a throat that cannot swallow anything and it still hurts! And you'll soon become sick of eating it. The pain more than overshadows the taste. And 5 days later, I still haven't been able to consume anything without bearing a lot of pain. So there.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Swami Vivekananda says:
Every work must go through these stages: ridicule, opposition and acceptance.
All my life I have been afraid of the first stage. Ridicule. The fear of failure has stopped me like none other. What will people say has been a decisive factor in the things I've done. I'm not proud of that. I wish I had the courage to do what I wanted to. Bold enough to go ahead with things that I think I must, and strong enough to face the flak.
Every work must go through these stages: ridicule, opposition and acceptance.
All my life I have been afraid of the first stage. Ridicule. The fear of failure has stopped me like none other. What will people say has been a decisive factor in the things I've done. I'm not proud of that. I wish I had the courage to do what I wanted to. Bold enough to go ahead with things that I think I must, and strong enough to face the flak.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
What-should and what-not
Kind of rhetoric, but have you ever been faced with a dilemma of choosing one of two conflicting paths? It hadn't been this painfully evident till this time. This was a typical case of Mind vs Heart. What you want to do, versus what you should do. Keep in mind that should is a completely relative human perception based on the effect on your action on others, your conscience, and the [probable] future consequence of your action. There has never really been any credit to living in the moment. Then why is following the heart preached by people all over the world and through history? What should I have done? Does following my heart equate to succumbing to temptation in some way? If I do, is it really wrong? It is what I want to do for sure, but should I? Even the definition of what-should is blurry at this point. Who defined that for me?
Do you admire people who choose Mind over Heart? Does it reflect courage? Or is courage really "following your Heart"? But then, is it really that simple? Black or White? Maybe its the grey area in between that bothers the grey cells. But well, they are bothered. And I need a solution. Argh.
Do you admire people who choose Mind over Heart? Does it reflect courage? Or is courage really "following your Heart"? But then, is it really that simple? Black or White? Maybe its the grey area in between that bothers the grey cells. But well, they are bothered. And I need a solution. Argh.
Thy crowning Glory!
Till age 12, it didn't really matter. Yes I think that was the time when my haircut started actually making a difference. Or maybe that was when I realised that people might have an opinion about the newly-styled hair.
Over the years (no, not that many),I have realised that going for a haircut is by far one of the most irrelevant and yet horrendously traumatising experiences of life. I refer to the Before, During and especially the After of the visit to a stylist. Of course, it can also, in freak cases, be an ego-trip if it comes out right. Probability: Trust me, very very low.
Before:
This is the nicest phase of the three.
Step 1: Getting yelled at by mom for having such unruly hair.
Step 2: Completely denying the possibility of such a thing.
Step 3: Looking in the mirror.
Step 4: "Hmmm.. Maybe she was right"
Step 5 : Book an appointment with a parlour who's not expensive but just expensive enough to give you a decent cut.
Step 6: Get up and go at the scheduled time. That's all you need to do, all you people with hair growing out of everywhere!
During:
Step in. The one thing I can never understand, is that when a person gives you a great haircut one day, why can't he/she repeat the performance EVER again? It happened one day, when, for the first time in my life, everybody, i repeat, everybody, actually appreciated my new haircut. Sigh! I believe I was never to see such a day again. About 2-3 months later Stage Before happened, and I, in all innocence and faith, booked an appointment with the same lady. She'd forgotten all about me and my hair. I tried in vain to explain, and no surprise here, came out with a disaster, totally unlike the previous one.
Anyway, albeit with broken faith, I go to a stylist every couple of months, basically because I just have to get my hair cut. So well.. This reminds me, I once read a quote somewhere,
Your hairstylist is the only person in the world you should not say "Go ahead, surprise me!" to.
Well what can you do but place your life in her hands, and especially if you're anything like me, you have no clue what to do. So then I meekly ask her, "What do you think? What would suit my face shape" The responses can vary from "I don't know" to a lot of jargon that I can't even pretend I understand. So to avoid giving anymore of my confused-look-expression, I tell her to begin.
First she sprays your hair with water, which makes it lose all semblance with your hairstyle. Snip. There goes the first bunch of hair. Well from this stage onwards till the final blow-drying stage, you basically have no idea what it's going to turn out like. I'm usually desperately cringing into the mirror to make some form of the re-sized and re-shaped hair. But to no avail. You can ask her to cut it a little shorter, but that's all the input you can give, and even then the little shorter can get a tad too short.
When she's done cutting it, and you have that wet mop of hair on your head, from that time till she fetches the hair dryer and sets it up, I'm never quite sure what expression I should let out. I want to appreciate this work real bad, but I really don't even know yet what you've done. Once the blow-dryer starts working on your head, you're feeling a little better cos atleast it resembles a hairstyle. And then, you see it.
Is it good? Maybe if I push this strand in, it'll be okay. Is it good or what? Let me look at her face. She's smiling... maybe its turned out fine. Ugh..maybe she's laughing at me. Well its done. Can't do anything about it. Pay and leave. Pay and leave! Quick. Before anyone else at the parlour gets to comment on your hairstyle.
After:
The first stage of reactions is at home. Two categories here again. Comments, or no comments. Family has always been kind enough not to give unkind comments. So, you deduce their opinion based on that factor. If they say Hey, nice, it's probably nice. If they say it doesn't look very different, it means you've spent a lot of cash for nothing. If they look like you've gotten them in a quandary about what to say about it, its pretty bad.
Then you go to the mirror. Re-inspect. Re-evaluate. Mourn. Rejoice. Worry about what people will say when they see you next.
Sample comment: "Don't worry beta, it'll grow back soon." So well, if you can see where I'm going, people can be pretty darn mean!
Next day at school/college/work: If its a drastic change, then you are greeted with wide eyes at first. There are all sorts of people in this world. You can never know this better than when you've had a drastic change in style. The ones who'll look you through as if nothing has happened. I wonder if these people actually notice nothing, or pretend not to so that they don't have to say anything about it. Then the ones who will look at you, brighten eyes, ask "You've cut your hair?!" You reply sheepishly "Yeah.." expecting bricks or bouquets, and then well, they look away and say absolutely nothing in comment. This is definitely the worst reaction. I mean, come on, say Something! Then again, the set of people, who go, "What have you DONE to your hair? Whats wrong with you?? It was fine the way it was!" Sigh.. Atleast they said something. Dismiss them as people who don't adapt too well to change. Then the set of people who (god bless them) will oppose the earlier sect and stand by you, saying this is what suits you. And then you smile and thank the universe for the existence of these people in your life. But wait, does this mean the previous style was...... Sniff. You see what I'm getting at? There's no respite. There really isn't.
Over the years (no, not that many),I have realised that going for a haircut is by far one of the most irrelevant and yet horrendously traumatising experiences of life. I refer to the Before, During and especially the After of the visit to a stylist. Of course, it can also, in freak cases, be an ego-trip if it comes out right. Probability: Trust me, very very low.
Before:
This is the nicest phase of the three.
Step 1: Getting yelled at by mom for having such unruly hair.
Step 2: Completely denying the possibility of such a thing.
Step 3: Looking in the mirror.
Step 4: "Hmmm.. Maybe she was right"
Step 5 : Book an appointment with a parlour who's not expensive but just expensive enough to give you a decent cut.
Step 6: Get up and go at the scheduled time. That's all you need to do, all you people with hair growing out of everywhere!
During:
Step in. The one thing I can never understand, is that when a person gives you a great haircut one day, why can't he/she repeat the performance EVER again? It happened one day, when, for the first time in my life, everybody, i repeat, everybody, actually appreciated my new haircut. Sigh! I believe I was never to see such a day again. About 2-3 months later Stage Before happened, and I, in all innocence and faith, booked an appointment with the same lady. She'd forgotten all about me and my hair. I tried in vain to explain, and no surprise here, came out with a disaster, totally unlike the previous one.
Anyway, albeit with broken faith, I go to a stylist every couple of months, basically because I just have to get my hair cut. So well.. This reminds me, I once read a quote somewhere,
Your hairstylist is the only person in the world you should not say "Go ahead, surprise me!" to.
Well what can you do but place your life in her hands, and especially if you're anything like me, you have no clue what to do. So then I meekly ask her, "What do you think? What would suit my face shape" The responses can vary from "I don't know" to a lot of jargon that I can't even pretend I understand. So to avoid giving anymore of my confused-look-expression, I tell her to begin.
First she sprays your hair with water, which makes it lose all semblance with your hairstyle. Snip. There goes the first bunch of hair. Well from this stage onwards till the final blow-drying stage, you basically have no idea what it's going to turn out like. I'm usually desperately cringing into the mirror to make some form of the re-sized and re-shaped hair. But to no avail. You can ask her to cut it a little shorter, but that's all the input you can give, and even then the little shorter can get a tad too short.
When she's done cutting it, and you have that wet mop of hair on your head, from that time till she fetches the hair dryer and sets it up, I'm never quite sure what expression I should let out. I want to appreciate this work real bad, but I really don't even know yet what you've done. Once the blow-dryer starts working on your head, you're feeling a little better cos atleast it resembles a hairstyle. And then, you see it.
Is it good? Maybe if I push this strand in, it'll be okay. Is it good or what? Let me look at her face. She's smiling... maybe its turned out fine. Ugh..maybe she's laughing at me. Well its done. Can't do anything about it. Pay and leave. Pay and leave! Quick. Before anyone else at the parlour gets to comment on your hairstyle.
After:
The first stage of reactions is at home. Two categories here again. Comments, or no comments. Family has always been kind enough not to give unkind comments. So, you deduce their opinion based on that factor. If they say Hey, nice, it's probably nice. If they say it doesn't look very different, it means you've spent a lot of cash for nothing. If they look like you've gotten them in a quandary about what to say about it, its pretty bad.
Then you go to the mirror. Re-inspect. Re-evaluate. Mourn. Rejoice. Worry about what people will say when they see you next.
Sample comment: "Don't worry beta, it'll grow back soon." So well, if you can see where I'm going, people can be pretty darn mean!
Next day at school/college/work: If its a drastic change, then you are greeted with wide eyes at first. There are all sorts of people in this world. You can never know this better than when you've had a drastic change in style. The ones who'll look you through as if nothing has happened. I wonder if these people actually notice nothing, or pretend not to so that they don't have to say anything about it. Then the ones who will look at you, brighten eyes, ask "You've cut your hair?!" You reply sheepishly "Yeah.." expecting bricks or bouquets, and then well, they look away and say absolutely nothing in comment. This is definitely the worst reaction. I mean, come on, say Something! Then again, the set of people, who go, "What have you DONE to your hair? Whats wrong with you?? It was fine the way it was!" Sigh.. Atleast they said something. Dismiss them as people who don't adapt too well to change. Then the set of people who (god bless them) will oppose the earlier sect and stand by you, saying this is what suits you. And then you smile and thank the universe for the existence of these people in your life. But wait, does this mean the previous style was...... Sniff. You see what I'm getting at? There's no respite. There really isn't.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Life and a How-To
The one good thing about a bad experience is that you're sure you can handle a lot more in life. Congratulations, you're now officially a stronger person to take on the world and all its unpredictabilities. If you can only take away the bitterness from the experience. And keep your ego aside. If only.
I wonder sometimes if it is worth getting sad over anything at all. Does anything matter in the long run? You get sad, you get over it, you move on. And you're back to square one. Did anything beneficial happen in the interim period of melancholy? Um.. Let me see, your heart was under pressure, you probably were depressing company for your near and dear, got them depressed as well, and gained.. well.. zilch (barring some weight that overeating triggered by your feelings caused.)
But of course, this is far from easy. This kind of an atitude requires some sort of emotional detachment which means one of two things. Either you never get emotionally attached to anything, or you learn to detach on demand. Obviously, the first option is out of question because being human is almost synonymous with having emotions. And if you don't, you're not going to have much of a life anyway! Detach on demand is well, really beyond my scope, but I believe it can be attempted by a lot of ways in combination: looking at the bigger picture, putting the problem in the most optimum perspective, keeping yourself busy, countering it with new ways to make you feel better about life, and in some cases, fighting back with a smile on your face!
I wonder sometimes if it is worth getting sad over anything at all. Does anything matter in the long run? You get sad, you get over it, you move on. And you're back to square one. Did anything beneficial happen in the interim period of melancholy? Um.. Let me see, your heart was under pressure, you probably were depressing company for your near and dear, got them depressed as well, and gained.. well.. zilch (barring some weight that overeating triggered by your feelings caused.)
But of course, this is far from easy. This kind of an atitude requires some sort of emotional detachment which means one of two things. Either you never get emotionally attached to anything, or you learn to detach on demand. Obviously, the first option is out of question because being human is almost synonymous with having emotions. And if you don't, you're not going to have much of a life anyway! Detach on demand is well, really beyond my scope, but I believe it can be attempted by a lot of ways in combination: looking at the bigger picture, putting the problem in the most optimum perspective, keeping yourself busy, countering it with new ways to make you feel better about life, and in some cases, fighting back with a smile on your face!
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