why I am afraid of falling ill
Yesterday afternoon my friend met with an accident and fractured her ankle. I have not yet met her and heard it from the maid, who happens to be common between us, that the ‘minor’ surgery which was to be done to put a rod inside her, to give her legs strength to support her weight, took two and a half hours. She will need at least three months of complete bed rest before resuming her normal day to-day life.
Since, I have heard about it, whenever I think of it, or recount it to any other person, I feel goose bumps on my body. Initially I thought that they were from the shock I received on hearing the news, but their intensity shows no sign of decline although it has been more than twelve hours since I heard of her plight.
Finally, I got tired of my hairy fright symbols on my otherwise waxed arms and decided to go to the bottom of their cause. So, I locked myself in the bathroom and started to think!!
Now, you might wonder what a small house she must have, that to think alone she has to use a bathroom. Well my dear friends, it is not that my house is small but simply that I happen to be a mother and a wife whose daughter and husband are so spoilt that they are beyond rehabilitation. But! Still a bathroom!!!!
Well! In the later years of my motherhood, it did not take me long to find out that a bathroom and in that the ‘loo’ is the only place in your house from where you can not be asked to come until you are completely done. Other places, even the shower run the risk of a request or demand like ‘please mamma, come fast, I want water’ or ‘tell me which shirt to wear’ or ‘press wala aya hai’. Even the door bell or the in-house intercom is to be attended by me, because they almost always are for me and my husband unless unavoidable (just like when I have gone to the bathroom) does not like taking messages and the other person in the house-my daughter can not be relied upon with details.
Now, when you are gone on account of a ‘nature’s call’, those five-six may be even seven minutes are your own (I always make it a point to announce to the whole house that I am going to the potty).
With years of continued practice my mind has become so habitual that when I am in the bathroom it actually becomes ‘super-active’. I get most of my new creative ideas, even reminders, forgotten to-do list items, in the bathroom only.
When I am not in a mood to talk to my ideas or want to keep my mind still, I pick up a magazine or that day’s or its previous one’s newspaper, which otherwise I can not find time to read. You can always find some tucked behind the tap on the washbasin in either of my three bathrooms.
The side effect of all of this is that, now, whenever I have to do some serious thinking, I feel like going to the bathroom, even if there is no need to! And even if I am all alone in the house.
So, to my thinking place I went and pondered on the cause of my goosebumps which resulted after hearing about my friend’s accident. I concluded that the reason was not so hard to unearth and is actually hidden in all these last paragraphs which I have just shared with you.
When anyone in the family falls ill or meets with an accident, the ‘lady of the house’ who may be donning the cap of a mother, wife, or a daughter-in law can shoulder all responsibilities, be it running the rounds of the hospital/doctor, ensuring that extra requirements in the kitchen, groceries and medicines are taken care of, besides also looking after her usual housekeeping activities plus kids (if any) plus her job (again if any).
Though it might take a toll on her but at the end of the day, she will manage to get things done whether they are done through home delivery or maids or good neighbours, but she will make sure that the patient gets ample rest and is not bothered for anything as long as she continues to be in charge.
The same happened when my husband got malaria in the penultimate year. Though, after he was up and steady and good after fifteen days I threatened him not to fall ill again otherwise I would run away to my mom’s home, but the fact that stays recorded is that I managed to survive it, all alone.
Now, imagine the scene the other way round, i.e what happens when this ‘lady of the house’ becomes the patient!! Well no amount of home deliveries, flock of maids and good neighbours can help the harassed husband to bring the topsy turvy household to even close to functioning normalcy, forget about care and rest for the patient. The patient suffers, the house suffers, the kid suffers the most (if any) and the work of the husband also suffers.
May be the realization of this fact after watching my friend’s plight from so close was creating such unrest to my sub conscience.
I don’t know how to put my unrestness to rest, but for her, I will play the role of a good neighbour. There is a secret hidden motive behind it again. Maybe by helping her out, I will create a precious investment which might come to my rescue in my hour of need. I shudder at even the thought of being in her place, who has all her family and her in-laws family in Mumbai. Whereas all of my relatives are scattered in different states and will need a minimum of one or two days to reach me, even if they come via the fastest means.
Maybe this is the drawback which we should learn to live with, that is the invisible, unperceived distance which has become so pervasive with the shrinking of the world. I have known doctor-sons who could not reach their parents when they were terminally ill and needed their son the most.
But most of all, I know a house which will become a site resembling a hurricane disaster if its lady falls ill. If you, who is reading this blog is a mother or a wife, you know whose house I am talking about. And if you happen to be a husband, son or daughter, then for your information, it is your house I am talking about!!!! So, promise me, if the need comes you will at least show some compassion for that lady.
That's it!!!
Since, I have heard about it, whenever I think of it, or recount it to any other person, I feel goose bumps on my body. Initially I thought that they were from the shock I received on hearing the news, but their intensity shows no sign of decline although it has been more than twelve hours since I heard of her plight.
Finally, I got tired of my hairy fright symbols on my otherwise waxed arms and decided to go to the bottom of their cause. So, I locked myself in the bathroom and started to think!!
Now, you might wonder what a small house she must have, that to think alone she has to use a bathroom. Well my dear friends, it is not that my house is small but simply that I happen to be a mother and a wife whose daughter and husband are so spoilt that they are beyond rehabilitation. But! Still a bathroom!!!!
Well! In the later years of my motherhood, it did not take me long to find out that a bathroom and in that the ‘loo’ is the only place in your house from where you can not be asked to come until you are completely done. Other places, even the shower run the risk of a request or demand like ‘please mamma, come fast, I want water’ or ‘tell me which shirt to wear’ or ‘press wala aya hai’. Even the door bell or the in-house intercom is to be attended by me, because they almost always are for me and my husband unless unavoidable (just like when I have gone to the bathroom) does not like taking messages and the other person in the house-my daughter can not be relied upon with details.
Now, when you are gone on account of a ‘nature’s call’, those five-six may be even seven minutes are your own (I always make it a point to announce to the whole house that I am going to the potty).
With years of continued practice my mind has become so habitual that when I am in the bathroom it actually becomes ‘super-active’. I get most of my new creative ideas, even reminders, forgotten to-do list items, in the bathroom only.
When I am not in a mood to talk to my ideas or want to keep my mind still, I pick up a magazine or that day’s or its previous one’s newspaper, which otherwise I can not find time to read. You can always find some tucked behind the tap on the washbasin in either of my three bathrooms.
The side effect of all of this is that, now, whenever I have to do some serious thinking, I feel like going to the bathroom, even if there is no need to! And even if I am all alone in the house.
So, to my thinking place I went and pondered on the cause of my goosebumps which resulted after hearing about my friend’s accident. I concluded that the reason was not so hard to unearth and is actually hidden in all these last paragraphs which I have just shared with you.
When anyone in the family falls ill or meets with an accident, the ‘lady of the house’ who may be donning the cap of a mother, wife, or a daughter-in law can shoulder all responsibilities, be it running the rounds of the hospital/doctor, ensuring that extra requirements in the kitchen, groceries and medicines are taken care of, besides also looking after her usual housekeeping activities plus kids (if any) plus her job (again if any).
Though it might take a toll on her but at the end of the day, she will manage to get things done whether they are done through home delivery or maids or good neighbours, but she will make sure that the patient gets ample rest and is not bothered for anything as long as she continues to be in charge.
The same happened when my husband got malaria in the penultimate year. Though, after he was up and steady and good after fifteen days I threatened him not to fall ill again otherwise I would run away to my mom’s home, but the fact that stays recorded is that I managed to survive it, all alone.
Now, imagine the scene the other way round, i.e what happens when this ‘lady of the house’ becomes the patient!! Well no amount of home deliveries, flock of maids and good neighbours can help the harassed husband to bring the topsy turvy household to even close to functioning normalcy, forget about care and rest for the patient. The patient suffers, the house suffers, the kid suffers the most (if any) and the work of the husband also suffers.
May be the realization of this fact after watching my friend’s plight from so close was creating such unrest to my sub conscience.
I don’t know how to put my unrestness to rest, but for her, I will play the role of a good neighbour. There is a secret hidden motive behind it again. Maybe by helping her out, I will create a precious investment which might come to my rescue in my hour of need. I shudder at even the thought of being in her place, who has all her family and her in-laws family in Mumbai. Whereas all of my relatives are scattered in different states and will need a minimum of one or two days to reach me, even if they come via the fastest means.
Maybe this is the drawback which we should learn to live with, that is the invisible, unperceived distance which has become so pervasive with the shrinking of the world. I have known doctor-sons who could not reach their parents when they were terminally ill and needed their son the most.
But most of all, I know a house which will become a site resembling a hurricane disaster if its lady falls ill. If you, who is reading this blog is a mother or a wife, you know whose house I am talking about. And if you happen to be a husband, son or daughter, then for your information, it is your house I am talking about!!!! So, promise me, if the need comes you will at least show some compassion for that lady.
That's it!!!
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