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karthika
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« on: May 26, 2011, 12:21:07 AM » |
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 By Karthika Nair~~~~I grew worse by the day. I was put on heavy duty antibiotics, life saving drugs and pain killers. I needed several bottles of blood. I was losing plasma, rapidly and that had to be replaced. My blood group is O-ve. Donors were difficult to get.
Dad, my brother and my brother- in –law would contact all the clubs they knew, Rotary, Lions, Leo, etc Banks, friends, relatives, and other possible sources.
On one of those days, a friend of mine, Merly, who has the same blood group, very kindly and lovingly, donated a bottle of blood.
The duty doctor was called in for some emergency and the blood taken out was kept out, left on the table, forgotten, for a few hours.
This bottle of blood was induced to me. It had putrefied. I went into uncontrollable convulsions and my fever rose to a 106*C.
I was shivering like a leaf in a storm. Blankets, water bottles, injections, nothing helped.
I almost didn’t pull through, that day.
The wounds got more and more infected. So much so, that my kidneys started to pack up and I reached a critically sick stage.
On one particular day, I passed just a few drops of urine, through the catheter, connected to me.
The doctors were losing hope and asked my sister to inform all near and dear ones, of my possible impending ‘departure.’
That night or maybe it was, the next day, early morning that I got up with a jerk, to find a head near my mouth.
It was Dr. Satwant Singh, (Santa, we called him)-the house surgeon, who had attended on me from the day I had got admitted in.
He had donated blood twice, to me, and considered me his sister.
This, dedicated doctor, had kept an all night vigil, because I was sinking. I was losing pulse.
Santa had called up my brother and informed him that perhaps I was ‘going’.
He was trying to figure, if he could catch me breathing, even the slightest.
That’s when I woke up, with a start. He looked and me and said “Chote!” (the nick name, meaning the little one, by which the family, fondly calls me) “I can’t tell you, how happy I am, that you woke up”
He smiled the brightest, most loving smile at me, and patted my forehead; genuinely pleased, that I had pulled through, relief writ large on his face.
In less than fifteen minutes I saw my brother charge in. He’d parked the vehicle and run in. He had such a pained look on his face. He ran to my bed and looked first, at me and then at Dr. Santa, thoroughly confused.
My brother had been told that perhaps I would not see the light of day and there I was, wide awake!
Santa smiled at him and said,”Mera khoon hai,na, thagdi hai!”(She’s got my blood, she’s tough!) Santa was a tough Sikh from Punjab!
I have never seen a more loving expression on my brother’s face, before OR after!
I asked him why he had come in so early.
He just stood there looking at me, not trusting himself to speak.
Later it was found, that I had contracted the infection from the unsterilized cotton swabs that they had used on me!
The entire consignment was burnt and new cotton swabs were brought in. Treatment continued.
Two burn patients, with less serious burns, who had come in after me, were wheeled out as corpses, right in front of my eyes.
My sister wouldn’t give up on me. She would be with me through the day, nursing me, watching over me and feeding me, soft foods and fluids of all kinds.
The Vibhooti was running out. My sister would religiously, administer a pinch of it, daily.
The day the Vibhooti got over and my sister asked me to lick off the contents from the wrapper, the Doctor advised my sister to take me in for a bath!
I was one shade less critical.
Then on, daily baths would have to be given, for a thorough cleansing of my wounds.
I was still not cleared from the list of being dangerously ill.
As I lay in hospital, battling for life, one night, I dreamt of Swami.
I was lying, in the same bed as I actually was.
My room had an attached wash room and pantry, separated by an arch.
In my dream I saw Swami in the pantry making something on the single gas burner that was actually there.
I lay, watching Him. Just then, He turned and glided slowly towards me. As He reached the arch HE collapsed.
As He lay there, I struggled, in my dream, to get up and rush to Him to help Him, get up. But I couldn’t move. I could only look on, helplessly.
Swami’s body lay there lifeless. But, from there, rose, another body. The body, that had fallen, just lay there.
He left that body and a new Him, walked to my bed.
He sat on my bed, took my left hand in both His and said, “It’s only the body that gets damaged. Nothing happens to the soul” HE looked down at my hand and patted it.
I started recovering, at miraculous speed, thereafter.
A week later, I was discharged, from hospital.
I know, my death was taken on, by Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba.
Even my horoscope said, SHUBHAM (in all auspiciousness) after my 23rd year. I was twenty three when this had happened.
Jai Sai RamCourtesy : http://www.indianewspost.com/lifestyle/48281-swami_s_body_lay_there_lifeless.htmlKarthika Nair is a freelance journalist and columnist. Spiritualism is her favorite subject. Besides, she writes on parenting and travel & tourism. Karthika has been an ardent devotee of Sri Sathya Sai Baba almost all her life and is actively into Sathya Sai activities, including being a Bal Vikas Guru to hundreds of children. She is also a reiki healer. She can be contacted at nairkarthika@hotmail.com
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Friendship is the expression of unshakable LOVE, LOVE that is noble, pure, free from desire or egoism.....Sairam  |
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