“Hold on!  You are a Fighter, girl”- a familiar voice echoed in my head.  The only difference was this time that the voice was as faint as I was!  I was not holding on to the driver’s wheel as usual this time but was laying my limp head on the back seat of my car.  Just then a glimpse of the bright rising orange globe caught my attention, as I lowered my car window for one more whiff of fresh air.  If you are imagining me right now, digging hurriedly into my handbag to pull out my phone to capture this beauty (i.e. if you know me well enough as the ‘camera’ girl!) – No I wasn’t.  I didn’t care!  No I take that back – there was  something about that orange globe, I think I cared about  –nothing big  just a thought,  though – whether I will be seeing the sunrise again!

The past 4 days, I  have been lying  in my sunroom, warm not from the sun’s warmth but actually burning up  from head to toe without even knowing when the sun rose or set. The only thing that woke me up in the wee hours of the morning was a sorethroat like I’ve never experienced before! All of my medical training in gross anatomy of the respiratory tract came alive after 30 years, as I could feel the corona virus moving from my oropharynx to my laryngopharynx into my lungs.  Just a few days earlier my son and couple of his classmates tested positive but he bounced back fast.  I could literally feel these invisible mutants marching along my respiratory tract!  All of my knowledge on the natural defense mechanism the Creator inbuilt in us –  the respiratory ciliary hair cells lining the bronchi beating upward constantly as a protective natural mechanism to push the covid-19 virus or any other damn foreign element from entering the lung flashed in my dazed mind.  Whatever happened to my own army of white blood cells-lymphocytes, neutrophils, macrophages and natural killer cells? “Guys! I ‘ve fed you and nourished you  all my life for such a time as this.  This is the time when you are needed on the border (of my respiratory tract) …. Hello!!??’’

The bright orange globe ducked behind grey mountains and green trees alluring my ‘click impulse’, as the car speeded up the highway but I didn’t care! I was on my way to the hospital only barely breathing to be aware of the chest tightness that was creeping up from the back of my thorax.  Perhaps it is my imagination, I thought, because of the CT report that came in yesterday showing 4 of my lobes had mild infiltration of the  corona virus.  I was trying hard to squeeze my fuzzy brain to recall  the names of the brochopulmonary segments  of each lobe of the right and left lungs. How could I not remember them after umpteen exams that I’ve read this particular chapter and the hundreds of students I have taught across the globe including my son.  It was also fading as fast as the projection of my almost 0-50 year old life, trying to cast a mental screenplay, quickly changing the slides from start to finish, as if there was no time to waste before I reached the portico of the hospital. 

I was bombarded with thoughts.  My thoughts.  And I did not want to listen to me for the first time. “Did my life matter? To whom? Did I finish all that I came to do?  Any regrets? Any last advice? Any unfulfilled desires? Is that all life is?  Did I fulfill my purpose?  Who do I report to?  Will He be pleased with my performance here on earth?”  My eyes glanced at my 23 year old son driving the car with an undivided focus on the road ahead. “How is he going to manage in life without me?” We hadn’t spoken a word since we got into the car because he was still angry from yesterday.  Nothing big, just a silly fight.  I was trying to give him direction to the CT scan centre or alternatively have the GPS turned on before he started driving there.  Normal motherly advice, right?  Oh no! I don’t understand why men don’t like to be given directions or said what to do unless they fall helplessly and get back up on their own two feet smothered in dirt two decades later? I am sure all the men reading it must be giggling that I am biased even on my death bed, right?  Sure! Go ahead. We all have so much to giggle about on our death beds, not just about gender mindsets and egos that come with it but a lot more…. all the sunrises we didn’t see, the sunsets we never looked back, the jokes we didn’t share, the wisdom we kept to ourselves, the conscience we trampled upon, the  lives we walked right past without even glancing, the lies and the white lies,  the times we forgot to hold hands or pull someone up, moments when we were too embarrassed to laugh out loud or just be silly  or  to muster up the courage to say “I love you dear” or “You mean a lot to me” or remembered to say “Happy birthday” or just plain “Thank you”.  Well, on hindsight, if I can trust my son to drive me to the hospital at a crucial time like this, I  shouldn’t be worrying about how he would navigate life without me, isn’t it?  “Silly, June”, I chided myself. “ Your mom died when you were 24 in the final year of medschool and look at you – you rode all the rough roads, the bumpy ones too, fighting bravely against the unexpected bullies without any moral support and ensuring you climbed up higher each time to prove to yourself and to the world that you are a strong girl. Didn’t you?”  Another voice echoed. “ But why? So what? Who cares? Who gives you the gold medal for this achievement on life itself, not that any of the 916 kdm gold jewellery or crisp currencies in the bank mattered at this point!”  One more thing I forgot in life, I recalled. Pretty important they say.  But how do you write a will when there no will to go on? “Stop. This is not me! It doesn’t even sound like you, June”, I said to myself as I  slid and slumped  further down on the rear seat.  Honestly though, I didn’t care what I thought of myself at this point. From going through life thinking of what others think of me, to this D-day when I was thinking of what I thought about myself, was an upgrade in itself!

They said it could take a week or 10 days depending on how things go or don’t go.  I have never been to a hospital in a long time.  As a patient, of course! I certainly was not looking forward to it but I tried to trick myself with a positive mindset that is was a “Hospital Holiday” for me. Sounded nice. Very rarely have I taken vacations in life. So this was my excuse.   My mind couldn’t dismiss the fact that many who  went to the hospital, positively testing for Covid-19 during the previous waves,  did not return back to their families and died alone on a hospital bed.  Not a bright thought, I know, but it certainly was not one of my bright days, you see.  Who would care if I was gone?  I didn’t care , as I guess I got tired of fighting – getting up every time I got knocked down and putting on a  “brave” fight, not one year or two but several years in a row or should I say decades – it is  funny how life’s challenges springs up on you from unexpected corners of the fighting arena among 19 other things you are already tackling.  Oh! Talk about those mean punches that come  especially when  you stepped out of the arena to catch your breath.  Though there are many spectators cheering you on when you are putting up a brave fight and some even enjoying how well you throw the punches, only you, I mean ONLY YOU know what it took to even lift your hand up in the air or drag your drowning self to stand up straight and steady again on the stage of life!

“What is worth it? Did my life matter? Should I have given up long ago?  How could I?”.  There were a set of eyes that looked up to me at 3 years of age, because I was his world.  I was so immersed in that gaze for almost two decades, that now when I look up at the sturdy hands that held the wheel,  with a stern gaze on the road ahead, still having no clue of the trajectory of the trip ahead on that misty Tuesday morning, I am proud I didn’t give up as a single mom.  The mist was slowly clearing as the orange clad dancer hopped higher up in the sky.  Oh well! I didn’t care….except about  the misty shadows that showed up on my CT scan that popped in my head every time I breathed. Breath!  Funny, we don’t care about it until our last breath, right?! Humans – we are a strange bunch in all of nature. So complicated and complex that we can spin a mundane, simple day worrying about a questionable existence and fretting on a false security for a possible tomorrow or a decade from today!

On a side note, I was actually looking forward to my 50^th birthday in about 50 days .  Of course, if I get past today that is and the next day and the next.  What if I don’t cross 50?  People always dread turning half a century. Mid life crisis, is it, that they call it? But this was a different type of dreading, if you know what I mean.  Not that I had elaborate plans or anything but I don’t know why I was looking forward to turning 50.  Will life be different after you take the salient turn at 50? I don’t know but I hoped so.  What if the best part of your life shows up after you turn 50?  Is it possible? Hope.  Is it still a Big word? What if there was someone who waited  just for you for several years and said you were an answer to their prayers and is eternally grateful that you showed up in their life?  What if I was a ray of light to someone who was drowning in the dark?  What if I there was one more student who turned out to be an empathetic doctor who touched the lives of hundreds of patients in her /his lifetime of practice because of what I imparted?  What if my grand daughter adored her grandma like no one had ever adored her? What if? Oh,  Well!…. I am getting ahead of myself, ain’t I?  Doesn’t seem appropriate especially for today though.  Let’s cross the bridge when it comes they say.  So here it is – the climax – I see the serene hospital entrance just ahead! There was no drama like I remember when I used to walk into the ER or the hospital, as a young doctor.  Oh! I get it. Is this the bridge where I transition from being a doctor to a patient? 

They say half the battle is in the head.  So even through my hypoxiated brain I mustered up courage to the battlefield I was about to step into. I wouldn’t have come if not for a kind angel, a colleague from my medical school who gave me that much needed push and  impetus to get the CT scan and be monitored for impending cytokine storm that can take you downhill quickly in the course of this disease.  I think I made it just in time for yet another storm of my life!  She even assigned her ambulance driver just in case I needed anything. Two beings that co existed in the same universe taking care of me at a vulnerable moment!

  I gave a peck on my son’s cheek (last kiss?!) and dragged my suitcase into the elevator to the first floor.  A female attendant took me past another patient who shared my room to a decent bed in a decent room.  I could only see the fingers of this patient jutting outside her flowery bedsheet which covered her from head to toe.  Was she young ? Old?  Talkative? Reserved? Did she have a family? The attender  soon left and I sat on my bed and looked around the room, the ceiling, the floor – I didn’t see the dancing orange globe or even the golden yellow sunlight through the dark windows of the hospital room. I didn’t care earlier, remember?  So why should I now, I thought. So I continued to look around and my eyes came back to the mysterious patient slowly pulling the sheet to reveal her pretty, young face.  “Hello, good morning “, I said.  She smiled.  Soon we were served breakfast and we got to chit chatting.  Lakshmi, in her late thirties, was a mom of two grown kids, got married at  eighteen, I believe, and her husband was abroad and visited her once a year.  Her face lit up when she mentioned his visit once a year, when he apparently without fail would take her to the beach and the latest Rajinikanth movie. Their whole family were Rajini’s fans.  She shared a selfie with Rajinikanth’s cut out.   What surprised me was that she was least interested in who I was, whether I was single or married, my family, my profession, my accolades, the arena’s that applauded me or the trophies I had won fighting the good fight of faith in life. I didn’t let that thought stop me from finding out what made Lakshmi’s life interesting. “Otherwise, Akka life is just the same everyday.   “ Kazhuvuna pathrathe kazhuvinu; thodaicha veeta thodaichikittu….” She sighed in her Madurai Tamizh. I grinned at the cliché! Isn’t that part and parcel of most of everyone’s life – the mundane routine for any female from 6 am to 9 p.m. As for me , I just had that so called mundane task  in addition to 19 more important things I had to do as the breadwinner of the family though. Or so I thought!   To translate in English what Lakshmi said , “I spend my life washing the same dishes over and over again and keep  cleaning the same surfaces I keep cleaning everyday”. She didn’t have anything significant to say about her life other than these chores.  Hugh! Such a simple life it seemed like, in comparison to my high profile double doctorate single mom’s life across two different countries directing a company that served students from 100+ countries over the past three decades.  The reality is … Lakshmi and me were in the same room at the same time with the same virus on similar beds at this point in life!  One nice habit I possess, is that I never hold back when I have nice things to say to someone, be it even a stranger. “You look very pretty” I said.   Lakshmi was certainly beautiful.  I meant it and I felt it was important to let her know.   I could tell she blushed under her dark skin tanned over the years by the scorching Madurai sun.  Covid 19 and Coexistence with a cool girl 🙂 Laksmi helped me get past the dreaded days in the dim lit room with her simple talk and experiential wisdom.

Another thing I couldn’t stop noticing about her presence was the number of phone calls she received from relatives and friends, from oldies to teenage nephews and nieces.  She was telling someone on the phone giggling, “I didn’t have time to tell everyone before I got admitted.  Didn’t you see the morning newspaper today?  That ‘s  where I advertised in today’s column that I got  the Covid virus and am admitted in the hospital, so that everyone can come to know”.  I laughed out loud like when I was a carefree girl in school for the first time in ages even though I felt guilty eavesdropping on her conversation.  She was funny too?! What happened to that part of me over the years, I wondered. Her brother is worth the mention over next few days we spent together in that dark room with IV fluids, multivitamins, antivirals and antibiotics not mentioning the nausea, vomiting and the splitting headaches from side effects. “Stop going round and round the hospital and go home”, she commanded her loving elder brother.  I didn’t get to meet him but I could sense he loved her very much.  She was missed!  As for me , I didn’t get many calls either because I never told anyone about my “Hospital Holiday” nor did I remember to publish it in the daily newspaper! Too bad, huh! 🙂

Days went by but One question got louder and louder  in my head as I watched restlessly the antiviral drugs in IV fluids falling drop by drop – one drop at a time, taking their own sweet time.  They were not in a hurry to drop down naked inside a see-through plastic sleeve. Here is the Question that echoed loudest in my mind– “Who cares if I am gone?” So many people I have come across in my life some just  hi/byes, some for certain seasons , some strangers (or angels) who lifted me up while  I was still waiting for  all the folks whom I helped in the past to come (strange how life surprises you with kind strangers!),  some who had just the right words to uplift my spirit, some who shared time and space with me for months or even years, some whom I prayed for, some I prayed with and yet a ton of people who were still silently praying for me even without knowing me in person– who among them would care if I was gone? Would anyone miss me?

I desperately needed to hear from the One who kept me constant company all along my life.   What did my God have to say about all this drama? About my entire life, actually ?  About this day, if it were my last?  What does one more bump or catastrophe in my life mean to Him at almost 50? I recall even as I slid back in my car on my trip to the hospital, a Bible Verse kept coming to my head, stirring up in my spirit.  I was trying to remember but I couldn’t recall .  For some reason I was not praying/talking as usual or calling out to God. Perhaps you are excused when you are sick?? I don’t know…. At that defining moment, just when I closed my eyes to the whole world,  I recalled  that in my entire life I have been admitted to the hospital only twice!!.  Once when I gave birth to this handsome young man on the wheel at 26 years of age and another was during an emergency surgery in Iowa all alone at 34. All the doubts and the dark mist in my mind, soul, spirit, heart and lungs disappeared and was replaced by  a flood of gratitude that flowed from this thought to every cell of my body.  All my being was saying “THANK YOU” to my Creator!  How faithful God has been guarding me for almost 5 decades, when most of the times I have been living alone and even without any known soul around in a foreign country. He was faithful and had watched over me. He still is, I realized. I was grateful for the life I had lived!

This time , I hurriedly fumbled through all the trinkets in my handbag and pulled out  my phone . Only this time not to click a photograph but to lock my spiritual ears to what He has to say to me through the Bible Verse that  I couldn’t remember by heart……. Isaiah 43 put my life in black and white in the minutes that followed…..

¹But now, this is what the Lord says—
    he who created you, Jacob,
    he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;   

 I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
² When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.
³ For I am the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;

A peace that transcends all understanding, during one of the darkest dreaded journeys in life, filled me right there.  “You are mine”, He said.  It felt good to know I was Somebody’s, even before I was born in this world.  He knew me by name. I was special to Him. Fearfully and wonderfully He created me as a Masterpiece. Only one in my kind. Unique.  I was created and formed carefully in my mother’s womb and delivered with a unwavering promise that He will be with me – not this minute but ALWAYS!

Today almost a week later as I watch the orange globe from my home, on  a  8^th floor high rise building, slowly peeking amidst dark green trees and faint shimmering lakes, one Voice echoes from the horizon into my head “I CARE ABOUT YOU”.  As I opened the windows even before dawn this morning and took a deep breath of cool air,  noticing the skyline lined by dark grey  clouds in a background noise of chirping birds emerging amongst tree tops,  all of creation waiting along with me until a bright red light emerged announcing another Beautiful, Gorgeous, Glorious New day the Lord had made! Just for You and Me.  Only this time the red light was not a ‘STOP’ sign but a ‘START’ sign to live again, love again and laugh out loud again!

P.S> You know me, by now…. I love you hear your comment about that line or lines that affected you deeply from my writing. What is your takeaway, if any, from this blog? I will be thrilled to hear from you!