It's strange how sometimes you write a bit on something , then work and life takes precedence and you totally forgot about it. Here's another post I had written probably a couple of years ago.
The past 10 days have confined me to limited space (a single bed) , limited activities ( checking office mails/replying them and internet surfing) ,limited food ( soups, milk, soups, milk , eggs, khichidi , milk ) and unlimited medicines, thanks to a bacterial infection that caused havoc in Yours Truly’s body by way of fever,throat pain and severe cough !
My mysterious malady, bought me in touch with two of my greatest fears, the hypodermic syringe and extraction of blood!
Well, it so happened that since my adamant fever refused to come down , my doctor suggested a blood test to rule out typhoid and malaria , which was a very noble act except for the naked fact that I have an irrational fear for the syringe and the sight of blood makes me weak . Now couple the two and I have a problem that makes the Iraq bombing look like fluffy clouds.
But doctor's orders are like the ten commandments that have to be obeyed at any cost ! And so I dragged my heavy feet on a bright Friday morning to Appollo Clinic to accomplish this mammoth task. My sister tagged along for moral support , which was lower than the sensex on 'Black Tuesday' .
To begin with things went pretty smooth, the medical attendant seated me comfortably in a chair and then tied my arm with a band to tighten the nerves. Then he dabbed some spirit on my arm and that did it ! That pungent smell unleashed a wimpy & weird creature in me that comes alive in such medical situations. I am not proud of it but I think I outdid Rakhi Saawant with my hysterics. I tried everything under the sun to evade that dreaded injection, right from pretend-fainting bouts to bribing the medical attendant to intimidating him. But the man was unmoved while my sister quickly moved to the end of the room and pretended she was with not with me.
After much deliberation and discussions, we finally decided on a fool proof plan. The medical attendant would be as gentle as possible, my sister would sing ‘Amazing Grace’ and I would try and allow them to do their jobs. I tightly screwed my eyes close and said those magical 3 words ‘Let us begin’.
Well, the room was flooded with a beautiful stream of ‘Amazing Grace’ with some occasional off-key notes contributed by me in my attempt to distract myself. Finally, towards the end of ‘Was blind, but now I see’ I opened my eyes and saw that the job was done with the Attendant triumphantly holding a syringe full of dark red liquid that once ran freely through my veins.
We all looked at each other with a look that must have been on Neil Amstrong’s face when he landed on the moon! Well, the medical attendant also had a look of relief on his face!
Some people conquer nations and scale mountains, I ,on the other hand braved the terrors of a clinic and returned shaken but wise ! Okay, I was exaggerating about the wise part !
So the next time you visit your doctor’s clinic remember Yours Truly and her brave exploits! And if it's Appollo Clinic, you might not want to mention me. I am not exactly popular there !!!
