I am discharged and at home now. Thanks a lot for the prayers, ( if u did) or thanks a lot for looking at this post with a shock in your face. I hope you will get the answers by end of it. It was a eventful surgery which went on for 2.5hrs, 15 stiches, 2 ribs cut, 2 days in ICU (doctors said that a open lung surgery was unavoidable as they saw complete adhesion's on the lung membrane). However, the silver lining is that am in safe hands with my parents doing all they might to keep me alright. The doctors also said, that I might well go for diving or flying without worrying about re occurrence after I recover :) .
My mom has gone back to her prayer routines still asking the same question to silent god "Oh God, Why My Son. Please, please please please not again....", and dad is now worried about how to handle the congestion which might occur at home due to relatives and friends who will come to visit me ;) . Not their mistake you see, they were not allowed to visit the hospital. Sister is busy developing a creative routine to keep me energized while brother in law, bothers her with comments of how routine her creativity is, subtly though. My close friends who knew about the incident have been missing me (Which I inferred by their messages), and other who do not know about the incident, still are unaware of my whereabouts.
I loved something of the entire episode though. The "Anesthesia", But for this medicine I would never have ever approved of this. I only remember seeing a beautiful doctor who was caressing my head in the operation theater. The next thing I remember is that, I was in lot of pain and the same doctor slapping me 5 times to bring me back to senses. (Any way, she does not look beautiful anymore to me). between these two incidents a complicated surgery(as described by the surgeon) was completed successfully. The people waiting outside, said the doctor showed something which weighed 350gms of muscle drenched in blood. I suppose they were the belbs(a little mass unusally more in my lungs) and adhesion's (a membrane like a boost on the food).
Once conscious, for the first time in life, I think I suffered so much for a drop of water. I was begging for a drop of water from the moment I gained senses to 5 hours after surgery when I was provided with a sip of water (Not glass, only a sip). It is true that experience cannot be explained. Now, I can feel why poverty is considered to be main cause behind crimes. If survival becomes necessity, morality is just redundancy. I had taken out oxygen mask out two times for water, not able to open my mouth, not able to move more than half of my body I could easily convey to nurses around that all I need is water. The nurses just nodded to me , they understood what I wanted, but with a pale face rejected my plea saying "you will vomit if you drink its not good for you".
Once in ICU, I was meant to be taken care of, more by machine than by man. There were electrodes all over my chest, emitting some sort of wired signal (refreshing my engineering they might be electro static signals). The BP machine was automated too, which would crunch my left shoulder every now and then. My both hands were punctured numerous times to test if am alright and there was something on my thumb to provide oxygen levels to heart( they called it saturation). I was provided with two packets of blood, I asked the nurse Whose blood is this ? for which she gave an expression which is hard to explain. For next one day I lived with a fear I might die, not because of the surgery, not because of the pain but because the blood which might be infiltrated, might be not my blood group, might be HIV.
I don't remember all people who visited me on my first day at ICU. I vaguely remember me asking, mummy, mummy to doctors before going back to sleep. My mom had a same frantic look "Oh god, why my son", Dad confused, sister curious, brother in law as indistinguishable as always. Pavan I think had come and I clearly remember Kallu wearing a red T-shirt under red gown. He came, he smiled as an angel from heaven. I remember him walking out with some words in his mouth. He might have got a glimpse that am not yet interested in heaven. If some one else bothered to come and I don't remember, please blame anesthesia for it.
The second day in the ICU was a turning point. I had got into complete consciousness, which means lot of pain and pain killers. I could see a person screaming for his broken leg. A person shouting for water same as I did.( which actually made my yesterdays behavior normal). A woman not able to breathe which i understood after over hearing nurses saying she might not be alive for long. For some strange reason I suddenly found myself in, "No I don't want to die" position. Something was telling me there is so much to be completed, not for my self but for others. I realized so many things which I have not done to others, or not provided opportunity with. I promise you life I will not take you for granted from now on.
The thought was broken by cute looking nurse "Mr. Naveen, your lunch", "Mom" said I. "Its restricted entry in ICU, and not visitor time, your mom cannot come" replied the nurse. "Fine, I will not eat until my mom feeds me" and closed my eyes as the auto BP machine had started cramping my left shoulder. I was a child I had to be, I was just reborn. The next moment my mom was inside the so called restricted entry and she had a free go in the ICU, to an extent that my mom never understood why all those stupid people waited outside ICU for their turn when no one stopped her from barging in the ICU in any given hour.
As I realized that I was getting cranky about my mom forcing me to eat one more spoon of food. One of the nurse noted "You can't talk to your mom like that". I said sarcastically "Will I talk to you like that ??" for which her face had turned red. My mom still calm said. "Its ok sister my son is in pain".
hmmmmmm... Mothers are mothers for a reason. I always thought dependence was a curse, but when you know you depend on some one of your own, its a pleasure unmeasurable.
The nurses might have rejoiced after sending me off to ward(At least that's what their smiles told me). In the ward I was continuously monitored by people more dangerous than the nurses at ICU (my family). I had fights (with my limited verbal ability) on why i don't want to drink or eat now. I was forced to get out of the bed to walk. I had to take support of two people to walk four steps. Don't underestimate my abilities to walk. I had two pipes inserted into my chest. The injections were pored day in and day out. I could memorize half of them. The only motivation to stay there was to get out of there as soon as possible and convincing a highly confident surgeon that am fit to go was a herculean task. Now all is well.
Or I hope so.
For people who have read till here might have two questions
1. What is it all about
It about my recentt surgery experience which was finally called as "VATS(Thoroscopy), Adhesiolysis + Broncho Pleural Fistua Excision And Pleurectomy "
P.S: Don't bother googling out and looking at pictures (you'll only regret)
2. On which number does this A@#$%^&e belong ?
yes I belong to too many number but am currently at +918792372726. But might not talk to you for long as am prohibited to talk too much unless the entire stiches are out.