I never thought that I would ever be able to write in my blog again. It has been over 3 months and I just cannot put things away longer, for I have to write sooner rather than later. Maybe, this would help me recollect things some thirty years later, the period that me and my family went through.
I was living in a sort of comfort zone with waking up at 5.45, going to office, then to my second job, returning home at 10.30 and like that. But a storm came and changed completely me and what’s left of my family.
My last post was on 17th December, 2012. I was worried about the match between Arsenal and Reading. Little did I know what worry felt like…
I would like to share my experience through my blog capturing things from my memory and using other references. It still hurts me but I have to do it somehow or the other.
18th December, 2012
The day started like any other. My manager put me completely into a new project and I was really happy. Returned home at 10.25 at night after my second job. Mom told me that father had eaten nothing that day and had not drunk a bit of water. Father had been suffering from a bit of cold (he is a COPD patient) and after some extensive medical checkups and medications he was showing signs of improvement. When I looked at him, I found that his lower lip was hanging, he was having trouble breathing and his speech was sort of disoriented. Earlier that day my brother had arranged for oxygen at home and we told him to breathe some. But he couldn’t continue to do so after every 5 minutes and was removing the oxygen mask. He also had fever and so we kind of forced him to drink some Horlicks. He tried to resist but relented on our insistence. I gave him a paracetamol to reduce his temperature. Mom and I were very worried when we saw father’s condition and we thought that night might be his last one. Brother came home at 1.30 a.m. from office and I went to sleep at 2.00 when he took over. We decided to take him to a hospital first thing in the morning.
19th December, 2012
At around 9.30 a.m. we called up a friend of mom who works at SSKM to make arrangements. Father was very disoriented but he had eaten a cup of tea, a glass of Horlicks and some instant noodles. We dressed him up, shaved him and gave him the oxygen mask to breathe. As he was breathing in the oxygen, he became senseless. A sense of panic ran through us and we put him in a taxi and drove off to SSKM. On the back seat was my father, his head resting on my lap, his feet held by my uncle (father’s brother) and on the front seat was my bro. At that time father was gasping and I put the oxygen mask to ease his breathing. The doctor at SSKM was scared on seeing my father’s condition and he needed immediate ventilation. The doctor suggested that we take him elsewhere as all the ICCU beds were full. We took him to B.M Birla Heart Research Centre but in vain. From there we took him to Calcutta Medical Research Centre where too the ICCU beds were full. But they took him to the Shock Trauma room and gave him nebulisation. Father became stable for some time but his sense did not return. We then contacted Kasturi Medical Research Centre and shifted him to the ICCU/ITU at around 2.15 p.m. The doctors started their work and father was put on mechanical ventilation along with high dose antibiotics, nebulisation and vasopressor support. The doctor there told us in the evening that father’s condition was Hypoxic Encephalopathy and his condition had somewhat improved. They would monitor him for 72 hours. the doctor also suggested that father has probably had a cerebral thrombosis. The ventilation tube was put through his mouth.
20th December, 2012
Father’s condition was stable but he was still in danger. His blood pressure was very low (75/50) and so they used a central line insertion through the jugular vein. Through this they administered saline to stabilise the blood pressure. We did not know these medical treatments but did as we were told and bought those expensive high dose antibiotics (one among them is an injection called Dogenosa – dad required 2 to 3 of them per day). The doctors told us that father has developed a problem of bulla rupture and formation of pneumothorax and sub-cutaneous emphysema.
I called up my manager at office and apprised him of my situation. He was very understanding of the situation and supported me.
21st December, 2012
One of the most depressing days of my entire life. The morning started well as my father regained his senses and control over his eye movements. He could clearly recognise me and interacted with me. There was no case of cerebral thrombosis as the doctor had previously thought of. He performed a little surgery and inserted a chest drain to reduce the pneumothorax and slowly tapered off the vasopressor support. In the later part of the day, two of my mom’s associates came to the clinic. The depression started since then. They told me, in a very disheartening manner, that I would have to incur huge costs in keeping my father this way and this would turn to be a very expensive affair. I was severely disappointed on hearing this but what could I do? Take my father off ventilation? Its been just three days. After all he is my dad and I just cannot simply kill him. The very sight of them filled me with hatred. Instead of supporting me with words of encouragement they were there to depress me! I cried my heart out while taking bath and prayed to God to give me at least a chance to bring my father back.
22nd December, 2012
In the morning the specialist doctor told me that father was much better and showed signs of recovery. I was elated on hearing this and tears came to my eyes. I went to him and interacted with me clearly. In the evening father showed all the signs of good improvement and this seemed to me like a message from God. I felt that, after all, we would be able to bring dad back home.
23rd December, 2012
The specialist doctor went away on vacation and another specialist replaced him. This new doctor suggested that he would change the diet plan of my father so as to give him strength back to his limbs. Overall, a day filled with conflicting hopes and despair.