I had never woken up on time before. But this day I was up well before the alarm time @ 3:20 a.m and surprisingly my wife was too. We all got ready in silence; the ride to the place was painfully long though my father-in-law drove as fast as he could, in fact the fastest as far as I can remember. He usually never misses noticing a hump on the road, but that day the car galloped over it and he blamed it on dim light. Nobody replied though.
We reached the place “Trinity Heart Foundation” around 4:45 a.m. I thought I was calm and composed, for my external conscience I was. But I could feel my heart pound in my chest and could do nothing about it. No amount of “deep breath”ing, no amount of “Hey, I am perfectly calm” affirmations could stop it, I eventually gave up.
We rushed to the ward number 312. There he was, sitting naked except for a small strip of cloth tied around his waist. His whole body was yellowish and wet with a solution they just had smeared. He had numerous miniature cuts on his chest and upper back, blood oozing out in small droplets. The red blood combined with the yellowish solution had created its own peculiar shade. I remembered my childhood; I would mix red and yellow to paint skies creating effect of sunrise or sunset – by far my easiest paintings.
Well, this was no painting – I wish it was, but it wasn’t. It was agonizing for me to watch him like that; I couldn’t avoid scolding that bastard who shaved off hair on his chest and back. The doctor hates even the smallest hair bud, eh? He said, his skin was burning but otherwise his face was calm, his hair was neatly combed, he had a kind of glow in his face and above all – he was smiling. It was my father, 55 and about to go under the knife, with all grace and calm I could only dream about! I am now impressed that I was still holding up.
They say you should live everyday as though you would be dead on the next. This kept running through my mind in an infinite loop and I don’t know why. My mom, who broke out crying 3 days before for the mere thought of my dad undergoing an angiogram was now calm and composed. In fact she had developed confident acceptance, optimism and courage in those 3 days. My brother seemed tensed but was holding up. My wife was dealing it with ‘Elegance’, with a subtle reassurance – god I love her.
It was 5:45 a.m, the stretcher arrived. I hugged my dad; I felt his steadiness of mind flow through me. This was not a case when the patient who is supposed to undergo ‘Bypass Surgery’ would cry, howl and crave for reassurance. I remembered the day he underwent angiogram. Everybody had told me that it would take 20 minutes approx., after which a doctor would come and call you in, show you the imaging on a computer, you give a green signal for angioplasty, they go back in and come back out in the next 45 minutes, you pay a bill of around 1.5 Lakh and take him home. Everybody is happy; that’s it, it was that simple and that is what I had hoped for. But as usual in my case, it can’t be that simple. I had a surprise waiting for me, it was more than an hour and nobody came out. Later a doctor walked out for lunch - perfectly normal, and all he told was the chief doc was busy and would call us once he is free. I was pissed off, I barged in and found that my dad was moved back to the CCU. Oh wait; they haven’t even done the angiogram? So much for my optimism, they had done it, doctor was back in his cabin and they had moved the patient back. I had to wait a good 30 minutes before I was called in.
It is in times like these, I really really really hate having a so called ‘know-all’ elder at my side. My dad’s elder brother had fallen to my side and wanted to accompany me to the doctor. I have great respect for him, and I know he likes my dad very much. But hey, I don’t want him to do my decisions. We sat in the doc’s cabin, and he said “All 3 blocked, its better to go for a CABG (Coronary Artery Bypass Graft)”. Whamo! Though I had seen a real life video of CABG procedure, I had hundred questions in my mind – My dad is a diabetic, hypertensive; will he be able to recover? Is there no other alternative? How many stents would it require for an angioplasty?…. And there goes my uncle.. “Doctor, please go ahead with CABG. If you remember, my wife had an angioplasty here 10 months back. I am planning to bring her for another checkup…”. For god’s sake, this isn’t about his wife. If I think back now, I am sure I was a bit rude on him to ask him to keep quiet for a moment and let me clarify my doubts. But I guess, it was required for that moment.
Well, that’s how he was scheduled for CABG. Everybody said not to break this news out to my Dad but I couldn’t help laughing. My Dad is one of the bravest and the most courageous men I have come across. I went back into the CCU and he asked me “When will they do the Bypass?” He knew it, had accepted it and moreover he knew he will be fine after the surgery. This will power is required to make his way back from the OT to normal life.
Now, back to the stretcher – We all wished him good luck and prayed for his health and long life. He assured us; he will be back and will see us in the evening. Then it was all hurried, we went to the elevator, reached second floor, saw him into the Operation Theater and the door was locked.
My heart was still pounding and I could feel it ram into my chest walls. I was scared that the lady at the Blood Bank will refuse to take my blood because of high blood pressure. We still had to give them 3 units of fresh blood and we all went to the blood bank around 6:30 a.m. My brother and my cousin had no problems. But as expected, though I was externally calm and composed my BP was 135/92. I guess the lady understood my plight, asked me lay down for a while, checked my BP again and told me it was back to normal. But I was sure she lied to me (it must have been still on the higher side), anyway I donated 350 ml of blood and it just came gushing down in 2-3 minutes. Thanks to high BP!
We came back to the hospital, gave them the fresh blood units and waited. I was doing pray-walk to the OT-walk back to the balcony-pray in a loop for the next 4.5 hours. I was so busy doing this; I didn’t even notice the main surgeon walking out around 10:10 a.m, his briefcase swinging by his side. After a minute long realization, I ran down three floors to catch him but he was nowhere to be seen. Everybody was angry on me as though it was my mistake the surgeon was so busy he didn’t even tell us how it went.
The OT doors opened around 11:00, they told us the operation was successful. I couldn’t talk to anybody, walked back to the balcony, stood staring at the polluted skies thanking god for everything. We caught a glimpse of him as he was being shifted to the CCU – his head was turned to his right, mask on his mouth, pipes running in and out of his body like snakes and big glass jars containing different colored liquids in a trolley.
What I still can’t make sense of is that, how a hospital can change the entire outlook of a patient. A few hours ago, he was a perfectly normal man, he had thoughts, he spoke, he felt, he knew about his relationships. Now here he goes, completely oblivious to everything – his machinery has been repaired and his brain is put to artificial sleep. We are all but a pile of flesh, blood and bones. It is that 3 pound mass between our shoulders that causes all this illusion. Hats off to the creator!
I have hazy recollections of the next two days. It pretty much consisted of bribing the guard at the ICU door, being afraid of causing an infection, trying to take a glimpse of my dad lying on the bed, supplying food and water and staying awake all night. He was shifted back to the ward on the third day. The post surgical phase of Bypass grafting is the most crucial period, utmost care and precaution needs to be taken. He was struggling to breathe normally, he couldn’t get up on his own and his lower lungs had collapsed. Slowly and painfully he grew stronger by the days and a week after the surgery we brought him home.
Here he is, courageously fighting pain and discomfort, recovering slowly from the surgery. Hey Dad, you are one of the bravest and courageous men I have ever come across. Hats off to your strength, persistence, optimism and steadiness of mind, Dad! I wish you good health and many more happy years ahead! Cheers to you and cheers to life!
And by the way, my BP had come back to normal a few days after the surgery.