Last weekend I went for my long pending health checkup.. a first for me. The Husband took his a few months back and he came home after a good seven-eight hours. That made me kind of look forward to the whole exercise — seven hours of peacefully reading a book while the docs did some checks, didn’t seem like a hardship at all. More so since a few pins and pricks do not really bother me.
Besides, The Husband would get a taste of handling the kids on his own…. something he’s rarely done, thought I mentally rubbing my hands with glee. As always The Husband scored high on confidence. “Arre you carry one,” he told me as I fussed around, “I’ll handle it.” The thing is he and I have very different views on ‘handling it’. I have to admit though, when it comes to the kids, I do fuss … a lot.. well.. a lot lot… they shouldn’t watch too much TV, they shouldn’t play in the sun, they shouldn’t play with the big boys, they shouldn’t eat junk. Anyway this time I thought I’d leave him to it.
So armed with my ‘Pricey Thakur Girls’ I was off to the hospital escorted by the entire family. Even as Naisha looked scared to death at the prospect of leaving me there, Hrit pronounced blithely, “I think Mama’s going to be dead.” And I thought I was bringing up a sensitive, loving son! Of course Naisha then burst into tears. After her fears were allayed The Husband herded them away while I settled down with my book.
All I’ll say about the next few hours is that there are things worse than blood tests. I was poked and jabbed and made to run on treadmills while a bunch of hospital staff monitored me. I dressed and undressed a million times. I had all kinds of apparatus stuck into varied parts of my body. I sat with a ‘full bladder’ for a full 45 minutes, awaiting my turn at Sonography and then couldn’t do a thing when the doctor prodded mercilessly at the said bladder.
I’m just glad this is an annual thing.
The Pricey Girls sat in my bag for a long long time. Each time I’d dig into my bag an attendant would come by, “Madam apne paper dikhaiye..eye test ho gaya? ECG hua kya?” No complaints against the staff though, they were cheerful and helpful but the constant concern can unsettle you a bit. Once when I was warming up to my book and he startled me with his “paper dikhaiye” I fumbled and handed him a Christmas card made by Hrit covered with hearts, which I using as a book mark.
Meanwhile at home The Husband was faring no better. The kids with inborn acumen spotted an amateur and decided to have fun. They refused idlis for breakfast, normally a favourite. While Hrit came around Naisha demanded (and got) a Mango ice candy.. for breakfast. When I called and told The Husband to give her bread and jam she made him cut out the sides, something I’ve never done for them.
When I got back at about two, I found Hrit lounging before the telly while Naisha dawdled over her barely touched lunch. She ran to give me a huge hug, more gratifying because she tore herself away from the very engrossing Doremon.
The results are in and all’s well other than a marginally high cholesterol and of course the weight.
Till next year then.. I’m good.
