SECOND LIFE SECOND BIRTHDAY

 

I finally muster the energy, the grit and the emotional embrace to write about it. When life socked the daylights out of me in ways that I never imagined, I looked on the upside of it as a divine intervention and a another miracle to add to my list in this year 2024 which went down the memory highway full throttle ahead.

July 7, Dear Diary is a day which left a distinct mark. A day when my father had a coronary follow up and I not only went along, but also had a check up done for myself. This was a couple of days after my visit to Sai Mandir where Sai Baba guided me to go for a cardiogram. A strong inner voice, authoritative yet kind, a heightened intuition, call it what I may, rang in a manner that couldn't be ignored.

That said and done, I had a consultation with my father's doc who did my ECG and ECHO. Minutes flew by in deafening silence when he finally finished the tests and to my horror bluntly revealed that I have an ASD. A 38mm hole in my heart. I was advised to go for a non invasive device implantation which could be expertly done for the skill it required in a city quite distant from where I resided.

The clichéd time stopped still and the earth ceased to rotate on its axis while I nodded numbly as though we were discussing the weather. 

Expressionless and stunned, I could only digest the nitty gritty of it after I reached home. Not one to take it laying down, I decided to go for a second opinion and check why a device implantation couldn't be done in my city which prided itself in excellent health care and technology.

Calling up Suchitra, a friend from school, a professor in the top notch medical college in Mangalore yielded remarkable results. Her colleagues who are a leading team of cardiologists and surgeons with whom she shares exceptional equations promptly asked me to share my medical files and appointments were set in place very next day!

With gratitude in my heart and praying fervently to Baba that my further treatment  be done in Mangalore itself, I set off. ECG and ECHO were redone, but the outcome was no different. The hole gaped at all of us like a sinister groove.

The upside? Device implantation could have been done if it had been detected earlier. Apparently it was an asymptomatic birth defect which still let me survive 4 decades and more without the proverbial hiccup! Except for a murmur lending an arrhythmic third beat like a lo-fi which truly, musically lived up to my name as I conversed lightheartedly with my doctor. 

The alternative? A 38mm ASD was too wide for a non invasive device implantation and the best solution was to go for an open heart surgery which would solve the matter for lifetime rather than having the device dislodge and getting entangled in the lungs.

If the flooring had a rug or a carpet, that would be pulled from under my feet but it was a cold sterile white. I nodded numbly and my voice involuntarily blurted out that I would go for it! It was the doc's turn to look dazed at my pat reply! I was stunned at my detached demeanor as well. But the deal was signed and sealed. On the spot. No deliberation, no stalling, no second thoughts!

Dates were coordinated with the surgical team and for the angiogram. The stumbling block? If the angiogram showed a blockage which was less than a 1% chance even after the ECG cleared it, a stent had to be placed and the surgery postponed by another 3 months. Not that it was an emergency but the sooner it was dealt with, the better it was, owing to the fact that things could take a turn a worse if the quirk decided to waltz to a right to left shunting reducing me to a shrivelled cabbage in my sleep or as I was  walking across the road, rendering me paralyzed.

August 19, Dear Diary, the angiogram was a breeze and everything turned up squeaky clean. No clogs, no blockages, everything was good to go. A private room package was booked. Hubby flew down after rescheduling projects, cancelling meetings and making various work- related arrangements. He was by my side on 18th morning. After spending 2 days and nights in my royal chamber, the D-Day arrived on 21st. 

I was to be wheeled in at 8 am to be operated upon at 9 am.

I remember being lifted onto the stretcher, reaching the door of the room and holding hands with my hubby. I don't know when I was injected with sedation but beyond the door I was out like a light, waking up only in the ICU after sundown. The first sight greeting me was that of Dear Hubby bouncing towards me calling my name. I knew not day or night, the hour or whereabouts. Groggy and disoriented, I tried holding out my hand to a familiar face.

The downside! I couldn't lift my left arm nor twiddle my fingers. The 3% chance of a  minor confounding stroke had manifested itself when I signed the consent form with it's myriad disclaimers and risks. My faith in Baba didn't waver because he had directed me here and nothing whatsoever could go wrong without a positive life changing solution. And so it was!

I was rushed to get an MRI done. A tiny clot showed up which must have occurred when I was shifted to the ventilator. A day and a half in the ICU and physiotherapists took good care of me to help me move my left limbs.

Those mobilized, I had to regain my coordination, balance and grip strength. Back in my royal chamber like a walking, talking doll gone wrong with tubes, pipes and defibrillation wires dangling, not to mention thick wads of gauze, surgical plasters, cannula pricking into my nerves, the pain of fixing the sternum and ribs back in place was unimaginable!

Hubby was throughout my side, getting up at odd hours of the night offering me sips of water, feeding me breakfast, lunch and dinner during the day, stroking my hair to sleep or just holding hands to reassure me while I groaned with inexplicable shooting pains in every inch of my bones, muscles and joints even though I was on max intensity painkillers and sleeping pills.Every nerve hollered its existence in those 8 days. Finally the tubes were out by turns and the last to go were defibrillation wires. 

29 August, Dear Diary, the day of the release was heaven sent! Physiotherapy and my willpower put me back together like a walking talking doll but more presentably this time. The first normal activity I resumed was combing my hair and tying my signature top knot. It was an effort to say the least. My movements were awry at first but muscle memory won the day. 

Yesterday, September 4th Dear Diary was my first follow up after my release. Blood tests were normal, X-ray showed perfectly symmetrical lungs– no residual post surgical fluids, ECG and ECHO —perfect and the ASD grafting—flawless! 

Baba was by my side throughout! 

Back at my parents’ home, Hubby is the epitome of tender loving care, up in a jiffy without a frown on his face, dressing my wounds after a gentle shower which takes close to half an hour, coaxing me to exercise and walk or just looking after my basic necessities. 

In sickness and in health, he has lived up to every vow of our marriage he had signed up for, never faltering in any duty. A second mother, that's him! 

Husband of the Year/ Decade/Century/Millennium/Lifetime—MINE!

Back from the other side as a Leo this time, my second birthday falls on 21st August. A lioness wearing her scars. Roaring, enduring, struggling in the wild but recovering, rejuvenating and saying," What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!"

Post Op pain will take 3 months to completely subside and till then I patiently wait to fly back too, to the comfort of my own home and confines, to embrace my ever waiting Babylou and to drift to restful sleep. 

Baba says, don't rush things, everything happens in divine timing🙏🏻. Bide your time and I'll take care of you. 

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Pic Courtesy:Image by ROBSON JUNIOR from Pixabay