A PROLOGUE
5TH MAY 2017 16:45 IST
I had to return to her side.
I had been idling in the relative’s waiting area for 15 minutes now and my time for a mini-break was over. Each time the thought of going back to the Neuro-recovery Room cropped up in my mind I flinched. You know that feeling? The pulse quickening, jelly legs and the stomach-churning sensation.
I removed my chappals outside besides several others of different sizes piled higgledy- piggledy against each other. “5071”, I told the security guard who had looked inquiringly at me.
As I pushed against the door of the large room cold air from inside greeted me with a wrath. Did it really have to be so cold! The floor was very cold too, ice-like. I found myself a pair of hospital slippers looking old and weary and quite large for my feet.
The neuro-recovery room occupies a sizable portion of the fifth floor of Bombay Hospital. It appeared like a school dormitory with beds on each side partitioned by curtains. It was eerily quiet save the beep of the monitors at intervals, which shattered the silence of the room. A dressing cart was kept outside the nurses’ station. I tried to avoid looking at it. As I walked down the room my heart thudded loudly against my chest, like the beep-beep of the monitors around. Out of the corner of my eyes I glimpsed patients on either side of the room. A young girl was surrounded by a young couple, her parents probably, the woman clad in a burqa and the man wearing a white salwar kameez with a taqiyah. An old man lay sleeping on another bed. Another patient seemed to be resting, his eyes closed and sitting upright against the back of the bed with one of his legs covered in gauze. There was nothing pleasant about this room.
A nurse was sitting at a table writing out notes besides Ira’s bed. “Did she wake up Meenu sister?” She looked up at me with a smile half-concentrating on the notes at hand. “Nahi na. Usko uthana padega ab. Aap try karo. (No. She needs to be woken up now. You try.)”
For a moment I just looked at her. She lay there on that big fowler bed looking adorable, like she always did. I glanced up at the monitor. All the parameters appeared well within the range. She was covered in a fleece blanket upto her chest. “Ira wake up, Ira. Mumma is here.” She didn’t move. It was almost 7 hours ago that they had stopped the sedation. She should have at least opened her eyes. “Ira everyone is waiting to meet you. Get up baccha. Open your eyes.”
I shook her shoulders slightly. I didn’t want to scare her. “Meenu sister, she’s not waking up. Kuch karo (Do something)”, I said with panic. Meenu sister came around to the other side. She frisked away the blanket while calling out “Ira utho (Get up). Bahut ho gaya neend (Enough of the sleep).” She put her hands under Ira’s armpits and motioned me to do the same. Together we lifted her slightly from the waist in a sitting position and immediately laid her down very gently. Too much movement should not be stressful for her.
I caressed her forehead. It felt cold against my warm and damp hand. “Ira. Ira wake up please. Look who’s here.” She moved her lips slightly, very slightly. “Mu—mma.” What a relief to hear her say that! “Mumma”. Her voice came out more strongly than before. “Mumma su aliye (I want to pee)”, she said feebly. Her eyes remained close but at least she was talking now. “Ira you are in a diaper. No problem beta.” I told her. I thought engaging her in a conversation would keep her awake. “Ira stay awake. Ranjeet baba na bolvu ka (Should I call Ranjeet baba)?” “Ho”, she replied again. I asked her again, “Ira baba na bolvu (Should I call baba)?” I barely heard her approval, “Hmmmm”.
“Ok. I am going to call Ranjeet baba. Stay awake.”
Little did I know that that was to be the last time I would hear her voice again.
It was the last time she spoke to anybody, the very last time she said mumma and the last time she ever expressed herself properly.
When it came to choosing one book over the other, as a die-hard book lover, I always found myself in a dilemma. So I often turned to the prologue for a quick read before I grabbed a book to settle with. Hence, when the idea of starting this blog hit me I found it only apt to begin with a kind-of-prologue.
Was there a time when you experienced mental anguish, panic, fear or restlessness for a loved one? Would you like to share them here?
I think there’s something in my eye…
It is really courageous of you to write this. I am sure it will help lot of us.
Yes that’s the intention. Hope to see this blog benefitting other patients and families in whatever small way it can.
Speachless. But would like to tell you keep on writing and expressing. You are a fighter. And inspiring one to everyone who cries for pitty things in materialistic world. Love you sooooo much. Miss you
I am speechless and wet now…Cant stop my eyes tearing…Ira beta…Get well soon!! Tejas, God is great..He will soon give best days back to you all!!
The parents’s struggling with the curing their first and only child ,are going through dilemma. The baby is responding slowly and sailently to hospital’s attempts to make her out of sleepy sense. All the description heart shaking. The situation can be expenrienced by the people who has undergone in such type of expenrience. Parents are always ready to face whatever they come across, in return the safety and healthiness, happiness of their child.
Reading this prologue itself sent a shiver through my body. Can’t visualise what the family must have been through, especially you parents.
Happy birthday Ira. God bless you with good health and courage to overcome this challenge. Best wishes to the courageous parents. God bless you with perseverance and will power to continue with the excellent support.
I don’t have any words to describe your courage Pratima…As a parent, you have really undergone so much of pain and fear….I have to say that being positive is the only way to make Ira well soon..Ira beta laukar bari ho….Love you
God bless Era. I am sure you will see Era smiling very soon! Ur strong will n courage will give you all that your heart desires for your child! Good bless and all the best
Thank you for the wishes. 🙂
You are brave…
You are strong….
You are loving unconditionally…
You are fighting for your baby..
You are a hope for her…
You are staying positive …
You go to find treatments… where no one even dream to go.
You know a side of the world that no one knows ever exist…
You try to find the ways that can give a baby a chance of life..
You are standing beside her…
You are giving her the best….
And its not easy….
Because…
You are a mom……
Happy birthday to your baby.. Ira…
That is so nicely penned. Thank you very much.
Speechless. Ira is fighter, god bless her.
The prologue itself is so heart wrenching, I wonder what would the full story do to me and my outlook as a parent towards life!
Very courageous and thoughtful of you to pen down your emotions and experiences. May God Bless Ira on her birthday and every day henceforth.
Regards
Renu
Hmm… I can feel the pain.. Feel helpless… I remember a saying, ‘God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference “
Happy birthday Ira,GOD bless u
Seen Ira before and after surgery…
Pratima and Tejas very courageously ,bravely handled everything
Tejas and pratima ,u both r undergoing painful experience s through out the last year . When ever I thought of IRA, I felt very helpless
I always thought that in your young age u bothhave to undergo this critical situation with lot of courage and patience,u both are ideals may some miracle happen on today bringing a healthy life to IRA.be positive she will be with you as she was normal before God bless IRA with health and longlife
Speechless……things will change and I hope every bit of it….!
Happy Birthday Ira and God bless you.
Dear Pratima you stay strong!! I just can’t imagine the pain you and irra are going through… but remember God gives struggles to the chosen ones who can fight through and come out as a winner… all my good wishes and love to Irra…
I don’t have any words to describe …As a parent, you have really undergone so much of pain and fear….I can understand your feelings —God bless 🙏
Thanks for sharing ! Pratima, you don’t even know me well.. but somehow I have always tried to keep a tab on your profile to check on Ira’s well being! You are a strong woman, an amazing mother! Keep up the strength you and Tejas! There are many of us silently praying for Ira and the both of you!
Thank you so much Vidhi. It really means a lot to us. Please do keep in touch. You can subscribe to this blog for further updates about her journey.
Being witness to all the pain one’s baby is going through is a situation no one should be in.
God help you and your family to bear it.
You have written so beautifully Partima!
Keep on writing it purgates your mind of pain,
Tears are in my eyes… May Allah bless ur family…
Thank you very much. Appreciate you reaching out for us.
Pratima, the journey you have embarked upon is one of a kind. It is not only a life affirming experience but also truly inspirational. From the time I have come to know about IRA, I have felt nothing but weak in my heart. I have a 3 year old daughter and everyday as I look at her I am reminded of IRA.
Ira is a fighter no doubt but you are exemplary for all those out there who have given up on hope and faith.
God bless you all.
Thank you Shradha. Means so much. Much love to your little one.
[…] can read the prologue here for the happenings of the following day, when she spoke for the last time […]
This was so heartbreaking.
Waiting to read more from you.