Tuesday, March 22, 2011

There were somethings left to be said,
there were things, some still not known.
But the place wasn't right, and now it's all gone,
the moment has passed, and time has flown.

Move on, leave your memories behind.
The road is long, the path is new.
We'll work hard, we'll make do,
Even if the sun doesn't shine, and when chances are few.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Surgery

So basically, I got that ligament reconstruction – menisectomy surgery done. The surgery which is supposed to fix my leg? Yea, that one.

This post? This post is the result of the boredom, pain, and irritation caused by laying down, without moving my leg, for too long. :P

Oh well, I'm not sure if I have the right to complain though, I mean, this IS the treatment for my leg right?So I really don't know if I'm allowed to complain, :P. But that thought doesn't really stop me from saying, “Goddamn, it hurts. :/”.

The surgery was a success. And it wasn't helped by the fact that I was conscious for the entire thing. :P The anesthesiologist (at least, that's what I think they're called) who was a resident, was kind enough to talk to me during the damned thing and I on the other hand, was kind enough to bug her with my questions. “How long does this thing last normally?” “Can this bed take my weight?” “Am I irritating you?” and at one point of time, I really wanted to ask, “What's your name?” :P. In my defence, she DID look good. :)

Oh well, so after the anesthesiologist tried to put me to sleep, failing miserably, and finally deciding that there was no use of giving me any more sedatives; the surgeon finally proclaimed that he had done his job and could now rightfully claim the five or six digit fee that he charged just to cut open my knee. (I'm sorry, I was a little more concerned about the anesthesiologist rather than how much the surgeon's fee was. :P)

Yes, she looked THAT good. :)

So that was that, and next thing I know, I was being wheeled out of the operation theater so that it could be made ready for the next 5 or 6 digit-fee-paying-victim that the surgeon had set his sights upon. I was taken to the 'Recovery Room', funny they should call it that, I didn't feel like I had recovered at all in that hell-hole. It was all groans and moans of pain around me and an occasional pat on the shoulder from the doctor who had the bad luck to be supervising that room that day. “Don't worry son”, he said, and added after that “You'll be better in no time!”. Well, it's been 2 weeks, and I'll be damned if I did recover yet. :P

Well, I guess that's how doctors work, they promise you that everything's going to be ok, even when they know, as sure as I know that I'm too tall to fit into any of those Guwahati buses, that things are NOT going to be ok. :| Even the doc back in Guwahati, when she first saw my face, and I asked her if it was bad, (I've been getting good at asking stupid questions lately. :P), she said that it was quite minor. Only later did I realise that about half of my face was bruised and bleeding. :D

But, after everything, they DO try their best. And even though they do try their best, I've realised something. (And this is one of those moments when I share a little of my immense knowledge with you :P) I realised that what they do, is like mending cracks in a wall. No one can replace the wall, what one CAN do is, just try to cover up the cracks, and hope that they don't come up again.

Oh well, here's hoping that the cracks that I have, aren't too big or deep. :)


Today's song: “Canon in D major” by Palchebel

Friday, November 19, 2010

Dear Diary,

No I don't hate you. I just can't write nowadays. I'm very sorry. I know it's been very long since I've written. It's just that I've had a lot of things on my mind. And now, Eggjams. *shudder*
I shall get back to you as soon as I can. :)

Yours truly,
The tall idiot with the crutch.