Today, had a medical procedure called Endoscopy. I have been stressed for a while now, leading to stomach and oesophageal discomfort. Needless to mention, I was scared to death, literally, wondering what would be the procedure like, and, also the outcome. I must have practiced the line, ‘How many days do I have, doctor?’ a few times, trying to get the right level of tragedy and stoicism in my voice. It is very important to get these things right, you see. You never know if Sister Jincy, standing next to the doctor could be wannabe writer who’d chronicle it in her next novel:-
“She looked up, her almond eyes, so beautiful and tragic. A tear rolled down her alabaster cheeks, curving round her ruby lips, which quivered as she asked,
’How many days do I have, doctor?
Dr Sternberg’s heart was wrenched at this sight:
‘Should such beauty go waste?’
He reached out to hold her hand to comfort her, his long sinewy arms held her slim shoulders, wrapped in that lovely lace stole:
“I , I, I …want to make you a promise…Either I find a cure for this illness or…’, he choked on a hundred emotions, as he wiped her tears.
Well, it unfolded little differently from this. But, let me not get into those details. I wish to discuss the arrangement hospitals have patients waiting for these unpleasant procedures. Now, this is a top class swanky hospital, so no complaints about routine stuff like attendants and cleanliness.
But, as the anxiety mounted, and I looked for ways to distract myself, I realized the options were worse than fretting about the procedure itself! For instance, there was this lady with a rasping cough who was placed next to me. Every time I fantasized about choking on the endoscopy tube, she would, promptly supply audio to my thoughts of doom, by coughing in a piteous, choking manner.
Then, as I tried to distract myself by watching people walking up and down: the sights were not any better: the ward boy emerged from a room, with a jar of blood, sloshing it as he walked away in a spritely jaunt.
I mean, can’t they have some games or puzzles or some distractions which keep our minds off the procedure? Waiting in this kind of neighbourhood can be so distressing!
Well, the procedure was uneventful, thankfully, the report was clear.
But, I still need to ask this question, ‘How many days do I have?.’ I mean, days of sick leave left to get over this infection. I usually ask these kind of questions to Sarosh, amongst other questions like, ‘What is the average age of employees in grade band X in Y department?’ or ‘What would be the per capita income of farmers in Imphal?’ and give him, on an average, 2.33 seconds to get me the answers.
Now, Sarosh, being the diligent guy he is, never gives up. Causing, presumably, huge levels of stress! He de-stresses by spending on expensive electronic gadgets for which he needs to sell his kidneys, occasionally. Maybe, I can gift him an endoscopy for his birthday!!