Day 4 – First half
We rushed inside the ICU and were directed by the attendant in there to follow him to the doctor’s personal chamber. Once seated comfortably we shot our concerns to him. After all we strongly believed in RTI. “What’s the state?” “Recovering process” “Threats to her”, “How long stay” and “How much time?” The Last question was the key…
The doc explained that an Angiography needs to be done- a process in which the blocks in the artery to heart are determined. This followed by Angioplasty where those blocks are burst by placing a stent in the artery to facilitate the flow of blood in and out of the heart. This process could be conducted only when the heart beat and pressure rate stabilizes. Unfortunately it wasn’t happening. We had to wait. MOST IMPORTANTLY THE HOSPITAL DID NOT HAVE THE REQUISITE FACILITY TO CONDUCT THE SURGERY. How was I supposed to know that? Couldn’t this have been communicated to us about 2 days before? If something were to go untoward, then who was to be blamed?
Hope alive but this time coupled with anger, frustration and depression. Negative emotions outnumbered positives by 3 on 1.
Day 4 – Second half
Agitated by this response after 72 crucial hours; we decided to take the step-next – Consult a Cardiologist. We did that and explored the 3C’s related to Angioplasty – ‘Concerns’, ‘Consequences’ and ‘Commercials’. We had to make up our mind quickly as time was running out. While Google and Doctor jointly handled our Concerns; we mutually agreed to rest the Consequences to the almighty. Given the fact we already had a laundry list of everyday expenditure to take care of; the question was the Commercials – source, arrangement, repayment, etc.
For the first time I could see a blend of fright, apprehension, worry, tension and nervousness taking shape in both- me and my brother. Tears found its way through a heavy heart as we hugged each other and let the above emotions flow out.
Tears have a unique healing property. Besides killing bacteria and removing toxins; tears elevate mood, lowers stress and releases feelings. We felt light. We felt good. We felt strong enough to enlist the steps to execute the process. A few friends, home-mates and close associates extended a supporting hand in out tough times and we felt relieved. We hugged each other and burst into tears again!
The cardiac ambulance was stationed at the hospital gate while the exit formalities were being executed. Each passing moment was critical and she had to be rushed to a cardio-hospital immediately. The delay in processing the discharge papers was irritating. Questions asked by the personnel seemed illogical and stupid and I actually saw no relevance in it. I calmed myself. I did not want to shoot by pressure levels only to end up giving them another CUSTOMER. Just then I saw my mother being brought out on a stretcher to be put into the cardiac ambulance. Oxygen masked covered nearly 3/4th of her face disallowing us to see a complete her. It was after about 3 days that we saw her and we could sense no difference in her condition from the day we admitted her till now. The formalities were finally completed after multiple trips between the ground and 4th floor.
The ambulance made its way through the bustling streets of Mira Road and in about 15 mins we reached Thunga Hospital. A swift and speedy staff escorted her carefully to the 3rd floor in the Intensive Critical Care Unit (ICCU). We were not allowed inside. The architecture of the building was such that it disallowed us to see the happenings in the ICCU. A fresh round of formalities was conducted and we were asked to wait at the (Out Patients Department) OPD area on the first floor. The scene here was a lot different from what we had experienced in the last few days. The staff seemed quite helpful, the authorities a lot more caring and the environment quite positive. Everything seemed in place; the wheel chair, the stretchers, the water dispenser, floor in charge, the security guard, the shoe shelf etc. Positive vibrations were the key realization here.
A call was made in the patients name was to summon the relatives upstairs where the medicine prescriptions were handed over for replacements. At such crucial hours, even the security woman seemed to be a qualified MBBS. This call made to us, however, was by the doctor. We were asked to follow the ICCU attendant who took us to the doctor’s cabin. It was labeled “CONSOLE ROOM”.
Our hearts sank.
……to be continued