Almost all people have some significant memory of their childhood. Be it of getting scolded, of having indulged in fights or meeting with an accident. The last Saturday (19th April) was a day I shall never forget.
Just like any other normal day, I went for my weekend Maths coaching. Hardly had five minutes passed, that the ceiling fan suddenly started feeling bored and decided to take a break. Down came the 'till then very well working' fan, smoothly slashed my left cheek and crash-landed against the wall.
All of it was so sudden and unexpected. My face felt so numb, and only when the hot blood started dripping, did I realize that I had been hit.
What a scene it was!! Sir rushed me to the nearest hospital to get the wound bandaged, and called my parents. After consulting all the family doctors and other experts, it was decided that I would have to get stitches. That word in itself made me dizzy. I must admit, I was initially scared to hell!
However, the hospital wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. It was probably the girly spirit in me that gave me the strength to take 'selfies' even at that moment.
The experience in the Operating Theater was even more exciting. The image in my mind for an OT till then had been of a typical large and quiet room, with dull grey walls, lots of machines and equipment and medicines and doctors. What I saw was incredibly Indian! There were some 3-4 rooms within the Operating Area and lots of noise, chatter, scattered newspapers, a loud FM and doctors casually taking calls. Even in my room, the nurses were busy chatting and gossiping while they assembled all the material. A few surgeries were lined up and I had to wait for sometime. Luckily, my nanu had come over to our place, who being a doctor, was allowed to accompany me inside. That somehow lessened my anxiety.
It was a 45-minute surgery and I got around 20 stitches in multiple layers. The cut wasn't very long but was quite deep, almost an inch. Thanks to anesthesia, I did not feel any pain.
Worse than a wound, is the side-effect of the pills that are prescribed afterwards. The painkillers caused a hell lot of lethargy and drowsiness and the antibiotics messed up with the stomach.
Today, exactly a week after the horrifying incident, I got my stitches removed and am feeling quite better.
What I am feeling glad about is, that the blade of the fan did not hit me near the eyes or chin or forehead. It was indeed God's miracle that saved me from a fatal injury.
Just like any other normal day, I went for my weekend Maths coaching. Hardly had five minutes passed, that the ceiling fan suddenly started feeling bored and decided to take a break. Down came the 'till then very well working' fan, smoothly slashed my left cheek and crash-landed against the wall.
All of it was so sudden and unexpected. My face felt so numb, and only when the hot blood started dripping, did I realize that I had been hit.
What a scene it was!! Sir rushed me to the nearest hospital to get the wound bandaged, and called my parents. After consulting all the family doctors and other experts, it was decided that I would have to get stitches. That word in itself made me dizzy. I must admit, I was initially scared to hell!
However, the hospital wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. It was probably the girly spirit in me that gave me the strength to take 'selfies' even at that moment.
The experience in the Operating Theater was even more exciting. The image in my mind for an OT till then had been of a typical large and quiet room, with dull grey walls, lots of machines and equipment and medicines and doctors. What I saw was incredibly Indian! There were some 3-4 rooms within the Operating Area and lots of noise, chatter, scattered newspapers, a loud FM and doctors casually taking calls. Even in my room, the nurses were busy chatting and gossiping while they assembled all the material. A few surgeries were lined up and I had to wait for sometime. Luckily, my nanu had come over to our place, who being a doctor, was allowed to accompany me inside. That somehow lessened my anxiety.
It was a 45-minute surgery and I got around 20 stitches in multiple layers. The cut wasn't very long but was quite deep, almost an inch. Thanks to anesthesia, I did not feel any pain.
Worse than a wound, is the side-effect of the pills that are prescribed afterwards. The painkillers caused a hell lot of lethargy and drowsiness and the antibiotics messed up with the stomach.
Today, exactly a week after the horrifying incident, I got my stitches removed and am feeling quite better.
What I am feeling glad about is, that the blade of the fan did not hit me near the eyes or chin or forehead. It was indeed God's miracle that saved me from a fatal injury.
 |
| 'Selfie' in the hospital |
.JPG) |
| A day after the surgery |
Thank you Kriti didi... :) I am fine now...
ReplyDelete