There was this inflating deflating balloon on my inguinals we call as hernia,
It was so easy to advice the patients to have a surgery, but found myself inadvisable.
Things moved and I found myself under the glare of the theatre lights.
Neatly scrubbed and shaved and drugged and even called a friendly “hi”
To the surgeon and told him “I spy Jayavel(the name of surgeon)behind the mask”.
They handled me with professional deftness of the best of the trade,
I received the care of a kid and was given the garden room
The cooing kuyil and the monsoon drizzle and the concern of my lady
Made them doctors to find me fit, to make way for more of my type to treat, in two days.
I am at home still with the stitches, but allowed to walk and work and get myself back to shape with the happiness of my patients without their worries.
3 comments:
aw, I wondered why you'd stopped writing gardner... since you're no longer on irc I wouldn't have known how to find out. Glad to hear you're back and well.:)
I dread hospital visits myself.
I thank you,u know u have been a great help,with out your knowledge.
Sorry that would takes lines and i would still not be able to express.
There is not a day i do not tell folks i blog at a friend's place who has helped me know myself.
Thank you.
I hope to see you compile and publish these into a book, venkhat, one day when people want to remember what it means to be human and Indian, they'll read your stories and remember.
Your son and his generation will know their roots.:)
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