When You Fall Sick And Are Alone
Friday night and I just couldn't sleep a wink. I rolled over and over to no avail. I have 3 beds at home and tried all 3 of them but it just didn't work. Finally I realised a continuous shifting was working. So I moved to different beds every half hour to gain sleep worth a couple of minutes. I'm not sure if I was sleepwalking though, but I guess that in that case I wouldn't have realised I was carrying out this meaningless exercise. Usually when I can't sleep I go straight to my mum. She catches hold of me real tight as though she and you all know what a mother's warmth is. Well anycase Friday night I wasn't with my mother not even close to being with her. I contemplated the next best thing and that was to call my pal my buddy Sumitra and tell her about my terrible ordeal. But mobile balance can kill a sane man with all his health, leave alone a psycho with a cough that could recreate the entire Tsunami.
So then theres only one option you wait till morning. In the meantime you cook up all kinds of stories in your mind, things about the present, thngs about the past, things of the future and suddenly you realise that you should write all this down, but then ofcourse you can't because of the same very reason why you could think so much in the first place. BECAUSE YOUR ILL. So morning finally arrives and you contemplate telling your mum, coz it may get her worried but then again shes the best. Then I finally make the call and get her all worked up. Like a woman possessed she makes frantic phone calls to my aunt who lives close by. Now mind you I had considered this option but my aunt has a small kid and I didn't want him to get infected. But as it turns out sweet aunt invites me over and offers to take me to doc. This in Mr Brandos words "This was an offer I just couldn't refuse". Well I end up in sweet aunt's place with her kid tryin to roll me over, play with me, climb over and what not just because he was forbidden to do so by all his elders. Then I tell my aunt that it's better I go home. She refuses flatly to let go till I've seen Doc. Eat home food and doze off(thankully) till evening. Here comes the part where Doc uncle tells me to take of my shirt. Uncle and aunt watch anxiously as a Somalian refugee is unveiled. Everthing is wrong except for the fact that I dont have lukemia. 104!!!! thats it thats my temperature, weight 49 kilos and yes as I had been guessing viral fever.
Come back home. Decide on being quarantined to a single room. But dude my cousin doesnt give up. He enters the room and jumps all over the bed much to the horror of my aunt who by this time is not pretty shut to the idea of letting me go. But she insists that I saty till Sunday morning. The night was spent better(that would be obvious after you have a syringe stuck up your butt.), I wake up in the morning and have a good breakfast. Theres already the plans being made of my leaving now amongst my aunt and uncle. Dont get me wrong I really dont know what I would have done without them, and they are afterall human and do have a kid. Nevertheless makes you really feel like nothing and absolutely nothing in the world could replace home.
So uncleji gets ready to drop me. Ofcourse my cousin has to come over to drop me. I could you imagine a father driving without the assistance of a 5 year old. That was the exact excuse he gave. Well I get o the car and start sayng tata bye bye.....when I hear the dreaded sound. My cousin sneezes and gives out a loud cough. Its too late. Better not kiss good bye now.
So then theres only one option you wait till morning. In the meantime you cook up all kinds of stories in your mind, things about the present, thngs about the past, things of the future and suddenly you realise that you should write all this down, but then ofcourse you can't because of the same very reason why you could think so much in the first place. BECAUSE YOUR ILL. So morning finally arrives and you contemplate telling your mum, coz it may get her worried but then again shes the best. Then I finally make the call and get her all worked up. Like a woman possessed she makes frantic phone calls to my aunt who lives close by. Now mind you I had considered this option but my aunt has a small kid and I didn't want him to get infected. But as it turns out sweet aunt invites me over and offers to take me to doc. This in Mr Brandos words "This was an offer I just couldn't refuse". Well I end up in sweet aunt's place with her kid tryin to roll me over, play with me, climb over and what not just because he was forbidden to do so by all his elders. Then I tell my aunt that it's better I go home. She refuses flatly to let go till I've seen Doc. Eat home food and doze off(thankully) till evening. Here comes the part where Doc uncle tells me to take of my shirt. Uncle and aunt watch anxiously as a Somalian refugee is unveiled. Everthing is wrong except for the fact that I dont have lukemia. 104!!!! thats it thats my temperature, weight 49 kilos and yes as I had been guessing viral fever.
Come back home. Decide on being quarantined to a single room. But dude my cousin doesnt give up. He enters the room and jumps all over the bed much to the horror of my aunt who by this time is not pretty shut to the idea of letting me go. But she insists that I saty till Sunday morning. The night was spent better(that would be obvious after you have a syringe stuck up your butt.), I wake up in the morning and have a good breakfast. Theres already the plans being made of my leaving now amongst my aunt and uncle. Dont get me wrong I really dont know what I would have done without them, and they are afterall human and do have a kid. Nevertheless makes you really feel like nothing and absolutely nothing in the world could replace home.
So uncleji gets ready to drop me. Ofcourse my cousin has to come over to drop me. I could you imagine a father driving without the assistance of a 5 year old. That was the exact excuse he gave. Well I get o the car and start sayng tata bye bye.....when I hear the dreaded sound. My cousin sneezes and gives out a loud cough. Its too late. Better not kiss good bye now.
posted by Psychohistorian at 7:31 PM
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