Category: illness

Posted on

Just another day

I have a problem. All you blogger pals have so much so interesting to say that each time I come to the comp my head bursting with my new post I end up getting hooked onto you guys and the post just dies. It’s a bit like when you meet friends after a long time, everyone talks together and it’s tough to get in a word because you want to talk as well as listen. And when you come away you realise you have a host of things that you forgot to tell everyone. Hmmm.. it’s fun, actually. And on second thoughts… not a problem problem.

I went to the gym after two days.. Sunday being a self declared holiday and Monday — sick leave.. not me.. Hrit decided to remind me of my OM status by falling ill. His old demon, wheezing, struck with a vengeance. It’s comes in a flash and goes ever so slowly. I was caught unawares as he’d been doing very well since we moved to Pune almost two years back. I’d given away our nebuliser to a friend with a sick child. So there I was running around to borrow one and trying all kinds of syrups, I’d actually forgotten which ones worked best. God knows I tried everything including a host of home remedies which normally did wonders for him but Sunday night nothing worked. He slept fitfully, coughed continuously and kept saying, “Mama I can’t breathe”.

I’ve never felt so helpless.

He’s much better now, though the cough will take some time to go.

At the gym we had a lady-trainer who took a dance-aerobics session. Like I’ve said many times over dance is my Waterloo. However, I was NOT going to let anything get in the way of my pizza this time. So while the other girls/women danced I kept to the beat and did my own version — more aerobics than dance but who cares as long as the kgs are dropping.

Today’s weight: 70.2kgs. I’m happy.

And now I’m off to search the web for fancy dress ideas. Hrit is an astronaut and Naisha is planet Venus this Monday. Help will be much appreciated. Crafty, creative people.. MM .. if you’re reading this help!

Posted on

The cup overfloweth..

The cup of woe that is…
Yes yes I’d vowed to think positive but hear me out before you remind me of that …
6.30
The day begins a bit bleary eyed because the night before Hrit and tossed and turned with high fever. Yet I was optimistic.. Today is Monday I can take him to the doc and all shall be well.
8.30
Call from the neighbour. Our common maid wasn’t coming. *Groan* “Not today”, thought I as I watched Hrit’s fever rising. I gave him his capful of Meftal and got on with the tasks, the maid’s and mine, cleaning, sweeping, dusting, watering plants..
Pic courtesy Google Images
10.30
I got an appointment with the doc as soon as her clinic opened and watched Hrit getting more and more restless as his fever rose despite the medicine 100, 101, 102, 103, 104. I started to panic.
11.00
Despite sponging the fever refused to recede but thankfully it was time for the doc’s appointment. Hrit was shivering from the fever. His teeth chattered. I had barely entered the lift with him when he poured out all he’d eaten since morning down my back, over his clothes and all over the lift.
11.05
I yelled for housekeeping to clean the lift and dashed up for a change with one eye on the clock lest we miss the doctor or be late to pick up Naisha from school.
Washed and changed Hrit… washed and changed me… sprayed on deo lavishly to mask the odour of vomit and zoomed to the docs panting and breathless to find she hadn’t arrived.
11.45
Only if you’ve ever waited with a feverish child in your arms you’ll know what that wait was like. She arrived and we waited on. Our turn, finally. Hrit needed a shot of antibiotic and cried most sadly but the fever started to go down almost immediately. *Huge sigh of relief*.
12.30
Back at home I found the lift reeking but clean. I quickly sprayed some freshener and rushed off to pick up Naisha. I left Hrit home-alone, a first, trusting the telly to keep him out of trouble, he hardly was in any shape to be up to his usual antics.
12.40
Naisha arrived and even before I’d ended my ‘welcome back’ hug and kiss she demanded, “Did you get my pot?” (She’d asked me to get a pot for her to paint). *Sigh*. I felt my temper slipping and was starting off on what a day I’d had. However one look at my pouting audience and I shut up in a hurry. I frantically sorted out my strategy. Distraction worked well and we were home while she examined the lift for signs of Hrit-created mess.
That was my manic Monday morning.
We spent the evening trying to navigate Naisha’s homework backlog courtesy the vacation, keeping Hrit’s fever at bay and handling myriad mini and mega tantrums …
I want to play some more (No darling tomorrow’s school), I don’t want to wear my night suit (Okay sleep in your tracks), I don’t want to eat (You HAVE to), I want only khichri (Fine), I want roti (Fine, I’d made both, thank god)), Why are you talking on the phone (That’s because, dadu, nani ma, masi, bua and the ever-travelling papa wanted to know how Hrit was), you told two stories of Hrit’s choice and only one of my choice (no matter that Hrit’s two are her favourites too).
Cajoling, pleading, bribing, threatening, yelling… we got through the day. Finally at 10 it was lights out… Peace.
As Naisha drifted off she said, “I love Papa but I love you morer.” Of course papa’s darling said it out of pure pique since she was upset he wasn’t home. As I watched them sleep I found myself smiling despite the godawful day. All I’ll say is, I love you ‘morest’ babies.
***********
That was yesterday.. Today the maid’s back.. the fever is down and it’s been a Terrific Tuesday.
Posted on

It’s diwali and I have a cold

Diwali’s a day away and I’m nursing the worst cold of my life. My nose drips, my head is heavy, my temples throb, I’ve sneezed about a thousand times and I’m grumpy as a bear.
Called up a friend in desperate need for a sympathetic ear and she brushes me off with a, “Can’t talk now… am getting my house done… the workers are all over the place.” Called over my sis-in-law, “Sorry, says she apologetically.. we’re getting our doors polished… no time.” Logged onto Facebook and a friend’s status message reads, “Carpenters everywhere.. jazzing up the house for Diwali.”
Humph!
I get on with breakfast and lunch.. sneezing all the way. I try chasing away the cold with a bout of steam and endless cups of bitter ginger tea. The day is half gone. By now I have also swallowed a Crocin, a Wikoryl and an Avil and am a tad wonky from the last one. Yet the cold refuses to go. I really need to do something. Desperate, I call up my doctor sis-in-law. “Where are you?” I ask. “Shopping for Dhanteras. What happened to your voice?” “What antibiotic can I take for a cold?” I demand brushing aside the niceties. “Do you have fever, bad throat? No? Then no antibiotics. Just wait it out.”
Damn! Say I, wishing for a more colourful vocabulary that would have allowed me to express myself better.
Might as well get on with the Diwali preparations, I decide. I climb up precariously on a chair and start hanging out kandils.
Interesting how unlike real women Diwali never turns the telly women into dust hating freaks, just shopping freaks. Dressed up in bridal finery they rush around armed with fancy shopping bags.
Even if they do try their hand at cleaning all the dust they find must be somewhere really high up. As they balance on their delicate toes they must come crashing down right into the arms of a waiting stranger who is necessarily handsome and adept at the deep-in-the-eye look.
I let out a deep sigh… and that dislodges a rather large blob of dust that sets off a sneezing spree and I come crashing down. Even as I try to steady myself, laughter bubbles out. So much for handsome strangers! Not even the faithful husband is around, who by the way has been dispatched to get some sandes and samosas following the adage ‘feed a cold starve a fever’.
The laugh feels good.. it saves me from turning into a Scrooge.
The door bell rings. The husband and kids walk in… I look at them ruefully. I’ve spent the day groaning and sneezing, yelling at everyone. What a waste. I bring out the special Diwali hugs.
Later I happily watch my diet blown to smithereens as I dig into the gorgeous samosas and crisp chillies. “I didn’t even go to the gym today,” says the small voice of the conscience. I stifle it with a huge bit of the delicious Sandes. It’s Diwali.. and I have a cold.

Time enough, later.

PS: Whether it was the laugh, the hugs or the samosas… I do feel better already.

Posted on

Sick bed chronicles

The virus has now has one half of the family in its clutches, one quarter just managed to vanquish it and the last quarter .. is struggling to keep it at bay.

I thought with Hrit Naisha down it couldn’t get worse.. but apparently it could and it did with Sunil going down too and badly. What’s even worse is that Hrit is well and in complete form. He can’t stand being at number three on my list of priorities.

For the past two days he has been running around the house pushing the computer revolving chair (which he insists on calling the ‘wheel chair’), dragging foot mats, toys, dustbins and whatever else it can gather along.. in and out of the balcony and all the rooms. He took great umbrage when I barred him from the ‘sick bay’. Sunil was in such a bad temper I thought he’d get the smacking of his life.

Talking of bad tempers.. Sunil was as grouchy as a bear with a sore head… (except he had a sore head all his own) I felt awful dragging him to the doctors for Naisha’s checkup but it was pouring and I needed chauffering. I reached a minute late carrying a protesting Hrit staright from the school bus stop. Apparently he didn’t want to go to the doctor’s in his school dress.. ” You don’t go anywhere in your school dress. Everyone will see me like this,” he howled, as if that was the end of the world.

By the time we reached the doctor Sunil was already calling me and complaining. “Our appointment was for 1pm, it’s already 1.10, why isn’t the doc seeing us,” he cribbed. In his defence I must add that he was running a high fever himself so it must have been quite an effort getting out. Also he has very little experience with doctors. And so my dear ignorant husband had no idea how long the wait can be.

While I was trying to decide who to pacify between a hugely irritated husband and a howling son, Naisha lay down in the waiting room out of sheer weakness and that set my priorities right. I left the father-son duo to their own devices and headed over to her. Meanwhile Sunil got a phone call and was lost to the world and Hrit seeing that no one was appreciating his tantrum was so wild he proceeded to systematically throw all the shoes and sandals outside the doctor’s waiting room.

Finally I got Naisha’s prescription and sent her off with Sunil while I got her med cert with a howling Hrit refusing to budge from my side. The looks I got from the other patients could have killed a normal human being.. but that I’m not.. I’m a mother to twins.

After we got home and the three sick and/or sulking people were given three kinds of lunches which they didn’t finish (no I’m not complaining even though I slogged over all those special farmaishes.. they are sick.. it’s okay).

I asked the local medical shop to send across medicine and in the melee forgot to ask him to get a bill. The surly husband gave the completely clueless delivery boy a huge lecture on getting medicines without bills. (Haven’t you seen on TV.. govt ads say selling without a bill is stealing… and on and on). I’m sure he’ll disconnect the line next time I ask him for a home delivery.

Then it was the turn of a telemarketing lady to get it from Sunil. All she offered was a loan at low interest rates. Sunil pretty much bit her head off.. What exactly is ‘low’? Do you know simple mathematics? That is not ‘low’ at all. Then she suggested if he could refer friends who needed loans and got a very curt, “Why would my friends come to me with their loan problems? Am I a bank?”

After that there was relative peace with Naisha and Sunil falling asleep and Hrit playing with his ‘wheel chair’ which he ‘drove around’ mercifully quietly.

Another day went by.

Naisha seems better today, should be in school on Monday after one long week at home. Sunil too seems better. Touch wood. I so want the family on it’s feet and out of my way.

Posted on

Perish the virus

Recovering from two viral attacks is tough.. not one after the other but simultaneously. I have always maintained that Hrit and Naisha never trouble me together, if one is giving me a hard time the other is a model of goodness. This time they decided to make an exception, perhaps just to prove the rule. Trying to handle two four-year-olds is a challenge but trying to handle two sick four-year-olds is total insanity.
The thing about viral is that medicines don’t count. With the dependable Crocin rendered useless I resorted to sponging.
Hrit went first with his fever touching a high at 2 in the morning. When the sponging starts Hrit just gets more verbose.
With Naisha it’s me who needs to do the talking to keep her distracted. She gets quite pathetic with cries of ‘Mama do something’ and her age old ‘bahar chalo’. However, once the fever went down, the water being that Naisha is, she started to enjoy it all and proceeded to sponge herself with gusto.

The challenges that come with the virus…

  • To remember who has to be given which medicine and who is due for the next six-hourly dose.
  • To get both kids, who are now not babies by any means, on my lap without one murdering the other.
  • To cater to food fusses with one turning into a parantha freak and the other getting hung up on khichdi.
  • To sort TV fights which, though always there, took on a vicious ferocity. (I WON’T watch Ben 10, I NEVER get to watch Ben 10).
  • To let one of them wear a yellow tee with yellow shorts while the other one chooses a party dress to wear at home.
  • To get the housework done with the two kids wanting me ‘alone’ with each of them all the time.

Fun huh?

 PS: Now I know what made Babar pray to God to give him Humayun’s illness.
Privacy Policy Proudly powered by WordPress