Episode 8 : The Curious Incident Of A Dog On The Road - Cont'd

Previously on The Edward Hyde Show...

When my eyes opened again, I was staring at the ceiling of another room. It was not the operating theatre, nor was it my ward. It was the ICU.

My neck was feeling stiff and I felt something was amiss in the way I was lying. There was no pillow under my head. And I was lying on a steel bed. No wonder!

Whether it was post-surgical trauma, the effects of the anaesthesia or sheer exhaustion, I do not know. I was able to move my head only a few millimetres. But it was enough to see a nurse looking intently at me. I dropped back and raised my hand to get her attention. My mouth felt full of something and I could feel the root of each tooth in my mouth. When she stood by my side, I tried to open my mouth to speak. No words came out and all that I could hear was a guttural sound that meant to say "I want a pillow".

She looked confused. So I pointed to the back of my head, raised my head, and put my hand below it.

"You should not have a pillow under your head. You should lie flat on the bed", she said.

Now how do I tell her my neck is aching so badly that I want to break it? So I pointed to my neck, brought my thumb and forefinger close to show an inch and showed the back of my head.

To say I want something thin under my head because my neck is paining.

She fetched a blanket and placed it under my head. I drifted off to sleep again.

I don't know how I long I slept again, but it felt a short while when I woke up again. Keeping track of time was not possible, I could not see any clock nor was I wearing my watch. It had been scratched badly in the fall. The dial and the strap need a replacement.

I had woken up to the sounds of someone wailing. The room had a bed on either side of me, a curtain acting as the separation. Both the beds were occupied. The patient to my right was a young girl and she was keeping quiet. I could see the patient because the curtain was pulled back a little. But I could hear the other very clearly.

She kept crying and sounded like she was in extreme pain. I think it must have been emotional than physical; I cannot imagine anybody crying so uncontrollably for physical pain.

Now that I had fully gained consciousness, it was decided I could go back to my room. Once my medical expenses were taken over by the insuring company, the hospital had moved me into an air-conditioned room. I changed out of the surgical gown that I had worn the previous evening and into a tee and new pair of shorts. Of course I was given a sponge bath first. Nothing like a real bath, but this will have to do for the time being.

The nurse on duty put me on intravenous fluids. By then I had come to terms with the metal brace inside my mouth. Its purpose was to keep me from using my jaws, effectively rendering me speechless, helpless and hungry. Not to mention cutting the inside of my lips every time I moved my lips.

I was also put on intravenous antibiotics. Whenever it was time for me to take my injections, the nurse would appear with a handful of disposable syringes in one hand and vials in another. I was relaxed even though I knew four injections at a time was new to me. My left hand was pierced to take in a needle while the injections were squirted one by one. I winced only once, and three injections went in without a problem.

And then came my Waterloo. The last antibiotic was in a thick syringe. A yellow, thick liquid, with an odour that could be smelled a mile away. The nurse injected and I clenched my right fist. The cuts on my right hand sent a stab of pain up my right arm. The injection felt like it would never end, and my threshold was slowly getting breached. Before I snapped the metal brace with sheer force, the nurse let go. It was finally over.

I realised I had stopped breathing. This injection did not feel the same way before the surgery. Despite lying in an air-conditioned room, my forehead was sweating. I did not know this was just the beginning.

The head nurse came in after some time. I had not eaten anything for 18 hours or so. I was wondering how they would get any food inside my stomach. I could not open my mouth, and despite having a small opening between the front teeth, it was not enough to take in anything.

The nurse produced a tube with a flourish and told me to lie down and tilt my head backwards. Another nurse held my head and the head nurse came forward.

"I am going to put this tube into your stomach through your nose. It will hurt a little, but you got to bear it."

Like a hungry snake approaching a rat, the tube slowly came towards my right nostril. I was staring at it wide-eyed; my head must have been shaking with fear. The assisting nurse had to steady my head so that the tube could go through. I closed my eyes and felt plastic crawling down my nose. The nightmare had begun!

The nurse kept saying words of encouragement every time I gagged. She instructed Mama Hyde to keep a towel handy if I threw up.

The tube stopped moving and I choked. "Swallow, swallow the tube", she said. In midst of the choking, I swallowed. The tube kept moving, searching out my stomach. It felt like a scene out of The X-Files.

I was miserable now. I did not want to see what the nurses were doing. The head nurse put on a stethoscope, and placed it on my stomach. I felt air moving inside my stomach . A sudden jerk and something popped out of the tube. I thought they were injecting liquids into my stomach. I later realised they were clearing my stomach so that I could take liquids later.

After a few minutes of torture, they left. I felt nauseous, but could not throw up. Every time I choked, the tube scratched my throat and stomach. I soon collapsed out of exhaustion.

I was later given some injections to reduce the nausea. I also felt sleepy, but the irritation in my throat did not let me sleep. I kept waking every now and then. My eyes were drowsy, I felt hungry and totally disoriented. Time never seemed to pass and I did not know if it was afternoon, evening or night outside. Barring the entrance and a small window at almost floor level, the room did not have any way to allow natural light inside.

All my irritation was written on paper. I could not write with my right hand if the intravenous fluids were getting injected through it. So I used my left hand and felt pretty satisfied at being ambidextrous.

And then Mama Hyde told me I was going to have visitors in some time. It was Papa Hyde's third elder brother and his wife.

"I told them", she answered my questioning look. "I had to", she added in response to my furious scribbling.

The last thing I needed was advice on how to ride safely and I was in no position to take it. Especially when there was no way I could say anything to defend myself.

Cont'd.