The night of June 14th, I was admitted to a hospital to get my freak disease treated. At that point, I was just glad to know I'd have medical relief 24*7 to rid me of all that discomfort. The hospital ambience was not as bad as I expected it to be and I was just dying to get some sleep.
The first few days (or was it hours?) were relatively all right. I was constantly on IV drip but since I have no fear of needles and no problems whatsoever with injections, it was fine. I had to get 6 injections every day and this was besides the minimum 1 litre of drip and the colourful oral antibiotics. Initially, it was all cool. Heck, I was happy even because lookie, no fever!
Back in my hostel, my friends started leaving one by one. I would ask my doctor every single day when I'd get discharged. His answer was constant, "You seem better today, so in a day or two! =D =D". His lieeessss would give me immense temporary joy and then drag me to the bowels of hell when the next day he would say the same darned thing. And I fell for it every time. And he always started his daily visit with a superb pep-talk. One such session was "One of my patients has had fever for over 2 months. Noooo idea why. Day before he showed signs of improvement and today again he's go a high temperature! I'm sick of all this! *exasperated*" o_O Fortunately, the nursing staff was really good.
Meow was leaving on the 19th, so I knew I had to get the hell out of there before that. My mum didn't want my friends to visit me because everyone around me was coughing, retching, gagging, sneezing what have you. Not like they'd have found the hospital anyway. It was in the heart of a maze-like residential area.
But my condition didn't improve, it worsened. On my 4th day there (18th June), my right palm was the size of a small melon and the fever and its friends came back fully charged. And hey! My Body decided it didn't like being bombarded with a truckload of chemicals every day. So what does it do? It rejects everything. It goes all grumpy and doesn't want to eat anymore either. My mum and I coaxed, begged and pleaded with it to eat at least a little, but no, My Body is a tantrum-throwing, demanding *insert expletive*. It wanted to eat everything it wasn't supposed to. And that was when I finally snapped.
That evening all my emotions caught up with me. The frustration of not getting better, the clautrophobia caused by being stuck within the same space every day, not getting to meet my friends who I wouldn't meet for a long time if not ever again, feeling guilty about the fact that my illness had my dad extremely worried and was exhausting to my mum who took all my whining without losing her patience and I couldn't even eat food I was craving for. When I think of it now it's rather funny because I started crying by saying, "I wannnntttt chiiiccckkkeeennn!! ='((((((" Even my mum found it a little hard to take me seriously right then. =P
Meow left the next morning. I didn't get to give her a proper farewell either. But that evening I got my first good news, I would get discharged on 21st.
When that moment of absolute bliss finally came I literally ran from the hospital (I wasn't supposed to exert myself in any way) with my hands spread out like I was flying while shrieking "I'm freeeeeeeee!!! Fresh airrrr!! The outside worrrrrrrrrlllldddd!!!!!!" I kid you not. My poor mum was a jumble of being super embarrassed to acknowledge that this was her creation, being genuinely happy to see that creation happy for the first time in many days and worried that the creation would have caused enough damage by running and shouting to take a U-turn and get back in immediately.
I learnt so many lessons in that one week. Things don't always go according to plan, no matter how short-term it may be. You have to face immense pain, both physical and emotional, to discover your strength. It's easier to say your goodbyes on the phone than in person. A half an hour one-time trip to the hospital early-on will most likely save you from having to camp there. Messages from your friends and your parents' good sense of humour raise your spirits even when you're so sick that you struggle to blink.
Thank everything that's holy for my mum!! I'd have been stuck in that godforsaken place for at least 3 months more otherwise.
P.S: Three days after I was discharged, I had to visit that motivational talker of a doctor again for a follow-up. That went well, I was perfectly all right. Right before my mum and I left, we heard him tell another doctor, "We tried out a new medicine on her. We couldn't try it out till now but she was the perfect case! This means it works, huh? =D"
