Story of my Operation: Last Part

Have you ever felt Earth shake beneath your legs? You are getting it wrong, you need not to be in the middle of an Earthquake to really feel this. I was undergoing the same trauma when I reached the hospital. I was given a green apron to wear which made me more nervous. My heart sank while I changed clothes. Meanwhile, the lower (also green in color) the sister gave me was of large size. Somehow I managed to wound it over my waist.

My heart pumped fast and hands shivered. Meanwhile, a fellow elderly patient who had undergone somewhat a similar surgery few days back was busy narrating me his set of experiences. His revelation were cut short by Sister (I thanked her) who told me that the time has came. A fact: I wasn’t taken into the OT through a wheelchair rather I walked freely without any support.

Just as I stood up I saw my mom, tears were rolling out from her eyes. I tried my best to control myself but failed and tears started rolling out from my eyes too. We both sobbed. Nurse accompanying us mumbled and clicked a switch on the OT door which got it opened.

Thoughts rolled inside me and cursed God that why only “Me”. Neither I smoke nor do I drink (alcohol) but then too I was undergoing a stomach surgery. Doctor had told me on earlier occasion that Appendicitis is a general problem without much reasoning to explain its occurrence. Yet this reasoning of his could not satisfy me. I was continuously blaming God and weeping.

OT was something different from my imagination. There was a big hall divided into three unequal rooms. In one room several beds were laid. Patients were made to stay there before and after undergoing the surgery. In other room sophisticated instruments were present. My blood pressure and few other tests were taken in this room. The last room was a store containing all the necessary and urgent equipments and medicines which would have been used in an emergency. You might be thinking where the rooms for surgery are? A gallery joined four OT’s with these three rooms.

The intern doctor assigned for my case took over my charge from the Nurse. A minute later two more doctors (one intern and the other a senior) came in to check me. All three tried their best to pacify me and repeated hundreds of times that my crying would unnecessarily raise my blood pressure creating implications in surgery. I was given tablets to lower down my blood pressure. I requested doctors to operate on me only after giving me an Anesthesia which would block all my sensation, rendering me insensitive to any pain.

I was getting restless inside the OT as it has been more than an hour since I got in. I was surrounded by group of interns, a computer operator and few nurses, all doing there bit to pacify me. They asked me several question about my education, my hobby, etc. to calm me down and told me about the easiness by which appendicitis surgery is performed. There constant push-up made me felt relaxed, even I had a tea with them.

A ward boy asked me to follow him; he took me inside the OT. So, finally after all those drama I was inside the OT. Its quiet similar in appearance to what I have seen in Bollywood movies. It was full of big and small instruments (by the way Instrumentation is my area of specialization), lights, and lots of chemicals. A lady doctor greeted me and asked me my name. The ward boy asked me to lie down on the bed. Another staff present tied my hands and inserted a drip in my left hand. I was quiet accustomed to all this as from past one month I took nearly 30 injections through drips.

I heard a soft number being played in someone’s mobile present in the OT; I guess it was a Jagjit Singh Ghazal. Once again, I requested the doctor to operate on me only after giving me an anesthesia which could render my whole body insensitive. She asked me not to worry and inquired about my education.

I don’t remember a single incident that happened henceforth. I woke up when someone shouted my name. I tried my best to locate and reply him and used all my energy to open my mouth but failed even to turn my face in either direction.

“Mera operation ho gaya???” … this were the only words I was able to speak in a very faint voice.

“Haan ho gaya, successful tha”… I got a reply from someone.

Even, it was getting quiet hard to open my eyes. One and half days later I was discharged from the hospital and a week later I went for my industrial training.

Read the First part : click here

& the Second Part  click here

They stood with me when I needed them the most :-

 Hasmeet Singh, Prakhar Chanauria, DSO Sir, Shalini Ma'am, Aman Dhingra and Uncle Aunty, Deepesh Mani Tripathi, Gaurav Sharma,     ....I'm sorry if I forget to mention any name worth mentioning. Please let me know any name as such by commenting over here. 




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