A few days ago my body invited some pathogens from Saturn and offered them to stay inside it for as long as they wanted. They were thrilled and planned for a long holiday.
The result, as you could have guessed, was that I had to be admitted to the hospital. The doctors had seen no such disease, and could never detect their presence. On the contrary, the pathogens studied the different doctors who came to see me, and who merrily charged huge amounts for “consultation fees.”
But that’s not what I am here to talk about. The most unforgettable experience was that of nurses and injections. Every now and then I would wake up in the middle of the night, only to find a nurse on top of me. Only if it could stop there itself. Sigh.. And she would pierce my skin and inject some fluid. And I would go back to sleep.
These fluids came in all flavours: black, yellow, cold, warm, fast, slow, pain killer, pain giver, pain-giver-and-then-killer, etc etc.
I learnt a lot about nurses- the beings. I had always thought of them as soft-spoken keralites with a funny accent whose job was to keep patients happy and, of course, give them medicines. My perceptions have now changed drastically.
There was always a nurse at night duty. And the poor creature had to stay awake the whole night, even when everyone was sleeping. After spending some time on the mobile phone, and some on flipping patients’ papers, she was totally bored. Like you were bored on afternoons of summer vacations when you were in school. And I figure she had only one activity left to keep herself amused: Give injections. That would probably explain the frequent visits at nights. I suspect it was also a way of disposing off expired injections..
At day time, it was a different story. There were quite a few nurses, chatting happily while keeping an eye on the lift for signs of doctors. But then even at day time, they all had one vital function: giving injections
I had read, in 10th standard history, about cutting of the Chinese melon. How USA, Russia etc had their own “spheres of influence” in the country. Well only now did I grasp the full meaning of the phrase. The nurses had agreed upon their own spheres of influence- One took my left arm, another my right arm. The third one had my left buttock to herself. I don’t know how, and I am still intrigued, but my right buttock was left untouched. And another thing I learnt about them: Nurses are ferociously territorial animals. One *never* transgressed into another’s “sphere of influence”. One of them was so proud or possessive that she put a circle with a ball pen around the place she had punctured my skin.
One injection I remember particularly well. I had a mild back-ache and was not able to sleep. When I told a nurse about this, she offered to give an injection, but it would be a “little painful.” A gallant warrior that I am, I said that I could take pain. And then it happened. An excruciating pain. Which made me forget how cruel the world is, and how painful love can be, or how hell would be....
To their credit, the nurses always warned me before giving injections (if I was awake that is). They said, “I am going to prick you, and it will be a little painful.” Now, in all my sickness, I somehow found it very funny and gave them meaningful smiles. And I tried it with every one of them. But they seemed only confused. In a matter of seconds, my smile was transformed into sobs.
And then there was this blood test. The nurse had to take some of my blood, and had an injection ready in hand to suck out the blood. My vein was hidden deep inside my arm. The nurse then cajoled this vein to come out but rubbing it gently, tapping it, and wetting it. Well, the vein did come out. Little did it know what fate awaited it. The tragedy is that it allowed itself to be fooled again and again.
Well, the doctors did never find the pathogens. When their time was over, they bode a tearful farewell to my body, promising to come back whenever they found time. And the doctors proclaimed success. And I came home, the sweet memories in my heart..
