The Battle To Survive -Part 1

I was taken seriously ill on the 5^th of December 2006.It was something that hit me most unexpectedly.We all had dinner together –dal,rice and tomato ‘chutney’ ,but as I walked up the stairs to my room ,I felt as if I had a fever coming on .I asked Sangeeta for the thermometer and on checking it found it was around the 100 mark .I had never ever been admitted b to a hospital in my life before ,and had never taken many drugs –save a occasional –very rare –antibiotic .There was no reason for me to feel alarmed .’’Its fatigue fever ‘’,I told Sangeeta .I had been playing regular squash in the evenings and had also taken a trip to Rai to play a past vs present cricket match .It was all adding up ,I told her .I popped a tablet of Sumo and went off to sleep .I was to get up only after 60 hrs in far off Delhi .!!

What happened ?No one knows for sure till now .What I know are the events that unfolded as I battled with my life .Apparently ,after taking the tablet and hitting my cosy bed ,I went twice to the bathroom at night and brought up –something I don’t remember at all .Sangeeta asked me whether I was fine and all I said was ‘’huh’.By 5 am in the morning I was like a living dead man –completely spaced out .She called the school doctor –Monika –and the school administrator –Bharat Kishore .My temperature was high and they all took the decision to shift me to a local hospital .My condition continued to deteriorate .Sangeeta probably panicked and called up my sisters .All of them descended to Jaipur to find me in a coma .!!Friends started gathering in the hospital.Teachers ,students ,fellow principals ,drivers ,conducters of our bus fleet all gathered in the corridors .Everyone realized that there was something very serious happening to me .My pulse started to drop –I was dying.!

But there was no way that anyone was going to let me die .Far away in Bombay the family youngster Avinash  was busy conferencing with the other youngster Akshay to look at ways and means to take important decisions that may save their Maama.They were quick and decisive -a quality that comes to the brilliant and clear headed .It is no surprise that they are among the best brains that India has to offer to the world . A call was taken –I was to be shifted to Delhi in a air ambulance to Apollo where they had tracked down Indias best neuro physician Dr Kohli to take charge .Dr Kohli –oh such a great guy –was already in touch with the rather incompetent doctor at Jaipur ,and had started my medication .A back up plan was also put in place to shift me to Switzerland (known for its excellence in neuro repairs).The clearances for the landing and take off  to Delhi had been organized by very old family friends –the Bhans (Air Marshall)and within a couple of hours Dr Kohli was staring at my body ,checking it for whatever it was worth before getting involved in a effort to save me .

It looked grim.When someone asked him what my chances of survival were ,his answer was –‘miracles do take place ,lets be optimistic .One can never be dead till one is alive ‘’.!!Everyone came to visit me .Ex students came in droves .Teachers brought mountains of cards made by children,Sahar drove all the way to Dargah Sharif ,Sanjay Kumar went to 5 temples to beg for my life .The grandmother of Charudhi ,a student of the school ,and aged ,sat outside in the waiting room .Her mission-she would only leave once I opened my eyes ,My sisters –Bina,Indu,Kusum,and Laxmi –kept a 24 hr vigil on me .My nephews and my niece were being exposed to the grim realities of life .I am told my nephew Abhishek broke down after he saw me limp with a stubble and with tubes all around .But there was no  ray of hope .My inlaws and my brother in law –Sanjeev –tried everything to make sure that I survive .There were innumerable trips to temples and on advice of our good friend Ajit Singh and his wife Kiran ,a Styanarain Katha was started .My blood pressure continued to drop .It was time to now throw the last dice .The gambler Dr Kohli came out to seek permission .He wanted to put me on the ventilator .My lungs were collapsing .It was the signal for the beginning of the end .It was as close as anyone can get to death .

Did I know what was happening to me ?What was I feeling ?To be honest ,I don’t remember a thing about this huge drama .All I know is that I must have inconvenienced a lot of people .And that even my enemies must have prayed for me to stay alive .It was  so easy to topple me over . Even half a ill will would have done me in. I was on the brink.

But no .There was something still left for me to do in this world .The doctor pushed the rather big tube of the ventilator into my mouth .My nephew Akshay was watching over me as the doctors went to fetch the machine .Suddenly he saw me open my eyes momentarily .He says I held it for a couple of seconds without blinking .He ran out to announce to a huddled family and a praying Sangeeta ‘’Maama opened his eyes .I promise I saw it ‘’Much like Archimedes running out yelling –‘’Eureka ,Eureka ‘’.I had turned around .A bad coin always finds its way back .!!I kept slipping and resurfacing which is a normal pattern when one emerges out of coma .I had never seen Dr Kohli and Dr Zuber .Obviously I did not recognize them .But what was more disturbing was that I did not even recognize my son and wife and  my family members .!!

There was much that happened .It is not going to be possible for me to put down all the incidents in which I had to  fight and claw my back consciously into life .I cant forget the first time they told me  to try to walk .There was a nurse ,and the physio ,and my sister Kusum ..They advised me to take their help and put my hands around their shoulders as I stepped down from my bed (by this time I was in a private room as opposed to the ICU ).I told them no –I will be able to walk without help .After all I had been chasing a squash ball all over the court for more than 25 years  .I had played 45 yrs of a good level of cricket .I was proud of my legs .I was sure I would be able to walk-albeit with some effort .As I put my weight (down by 15 kgs during my illness)on my feet ,I collapsed on to the floor like a sack of potatoes .It seemed my legs were stuffed with jelly .There seemed nothing that could hold up my weight .God –the first thought-was I paralysed  leg downwards?Or was it a  normal thing to happen to people who had spent nearly 60 hrs in coma ?And of course a sense of great loss and guilt .Why did I never respect my wonderful legs while they took me everywhere –from mountains to deserts ,to playing arenas ,to everytime my made a cup of tea?Would I lose them ?It was this fear ,mixed with disappointment that made me cry .And I wept like a child .It was the first time I had done that since the death of my father .But at that time I was a child .Now I was a grown up adult ,who also happened to be the Principal of a leading school .It must have hurt me very much to cry like that.Nobody can ever imagine how it hit me .But it was the beginning of a great battle of life .The family ,the people ,the doctors had fought  half the battle for me .I was readying myself for the other half .It continues till today .It will continue to the end of my life .It is a battle I fight everyday when i get up–not to forget that each day is precious .And not to forget that there is a God .And maybe it is living with me in the form of a woman called Sangeeta .More of that later