“Falling ill is not something that happens to us, it is a choice we make as a result of things happening to us” Jonathan Miller
Each time I have succumbed to illness, I have laughed at the stupidity of letting the body run amok till it could take no more and had to forcibly shut down. Each time I promised myself it wouldn’t happen a second time. Close to a dozen such experiences and I wonder why I religiously repeat this mistake with not a care in the world. And endure pain, medication, and a sense of dejection.
That is not to say I do not enjoy those phases in parts. I am eerily attracted to the smell that hospitals and disinfectants emit. I undergo withdrawal symptoms when I haven’t undergone some sort of clinical appointment once every six months and the icing on the cake would be being given a shot. Since childhood I have been fascinated by hospitals and the concept of being a patient. To the extent that some folks believe I create symptoms merely to get a doctor to take a look at me.
Unfortunately each and every tryst with medicine and hospitals has been downright painful in my experience. And most of them I didn’t even have the consciousness to observe and enjoy! And by the time consciousness prevailed I was ready to go home.
And yet I have had inane diseases. Like getting a whip lash injury (how I would not elaborate, and me and the doc conspired about getting me a polka dotted neck support), injuring and fracturing myself just above the eye and beneath my eyebrow by banging myself against a steel tap in the hostel by mistake, getting shots in my hip when the food poisoning incidents got too frequent and painful, breaking one hand and not wearing a cast, tearing a ligament on the other, and then balancing it out with a contusion injury on my knee, and having some surgeries in between, some problem with my pharynx, alternating between mono and stereo modes when my ears give up on me periodically, etc etc. Some more I shall omit for fear of causing a ear shattering gasp.
No it’s not an attempt to sound like a medical catalogue or a nagging and painfully boring patient. All are true and catalogued for good in the form of bills, medical certificates to schools/colleges/offices. Instead the way I look at it, I offer many a doctor the chance to practice and hone his theoretical knowledge. After all no other single human being can throw up so many interesting challenges all from one single body. Maybe I should donate this body to the medical fraternity to hone the skills of those coming after us. That’s food for thought indeed.
The other side to all this. I crave attention when I am unwell. Even if the world were to ignore me in my good healthy and hearty days, if someone doesn’t call repeatedly to check on my well being and happiness levels during my sick days I can make life hell. I am one fussy soul who only believes in the worst and so each time I have wondered what it would be like not to have another birthday to celebrate. And each time someone concerned has called back to check on me has taken me a step closer to recovery. And everyone who misses out on those calls/visits gets shunted to the last chamber in my memory.
Yes I am eccentric all right. But hey if I were all that sane would I have made life any better?
Now this I need to learn and learn fast at that…. “Health is not valued till sickness comes.” Thomas Fuller
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
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