It was just past 1 am when my brother received a call. Seemed like just another call what my brother and I had been making and receiving for last 8 hours or so, but this one was different. Mission was to arrange a hospital bed for my mother who was short on breath due to Covid. "Look for an O2 bed" is what our doctor recommended, however a high HRCT score from a fresh CT scan now mandated an ICU with a ventilator.
"We have 1 ventilator bed in an ICU available, but that’s
in Wagholi and they won't wait long." said my wife (Anuja) over phone.
Anuja and Gauri (my brother's wife) and a bunch of friends were continuously
reaching out to every hospital in Pune to find a bed. Finally a friend was able
to arrange through some contact.
"Anywhere in Pune, just book it. Pay the advance if
required" said my brother. We were at Ruby Hall Clinic where our mother
was on Oxygen in the Casualty ward. Just like other hospitals across Pune, Ruby
Hall too was overwhelmed with Covid patients with no bed left to be occupied.
Odd hours helped us transfer her quickly. Finally our
mother was on ventilator in an ICU at Care Hospital, Wagholi where treatment
began around 2 am. She would spend her next 2 weeks here battling Covid,
pneumonia, shortness of Oxygen and overcoming physical weakness. What seemed
like a viral fever 8 days ago had aggravated into pneumonia within last 4 days.
"Oxygen levels are low and HRCT is high, we will try
our best but odds seem against her" said the consulting doctor the next
morning. What I would describe my feeling at that moment, wasn't really a shock
but a high degree of unsurfaced emotional disturbance and anxiety. My senses
were not prepared to react in any way. Never before had I come anywhere close
to a situation I was into.
Minal (my brother's elder sister-in-law) called me the
following afternoon. Her call was an explicit reminder of things we have read, known
and even experienced, but tend to forget at times when we need them the most.
Faith, positivity, essentially- The Secret. This was well the beginning of my
realization and assurance of a silver lining being there.
That she got an ICU bed with a ventilator in relatively less
time, when others were struggling for hours without success, was a good
beginning. Wagholi was too far, about 25 kms commute one way. Hospital didn't
have a canteen, but thankfully it was located close to my cousin's place. My
cousin's wife (Akshada) would whole heartedly take care of my mother's
nutrition for next 2 weeks. My brother and I had one less thing to worry
about.
Doctor advised to arrange plasma on 3rd day. Given the
second (current) wave was quite recent, it was hard to find someone who might
have recovered from Covid within 2 months. We got lucky in securing the first
dose from a blood bank in Pandharpur that very day.
"Second plasma infusion within next 24 hours will be
more beneficial" said the doctor. As serendipity would bless us, we
discovered a donor among Minal's colleagues who would fit the setting and we
could deliver the second dose within 24 hours.
Meanwhile our mother was in the ICU, though against typical
medical and Covid norms, we were allowed in to deliver food, and even feed her.
She was blissfully ignorant of the outside and also what was going within her.
Her only contact during these 2 weeks would be one of us meeting her 3 times
every day. We had been super exposed to Covid environment during these days and
had isolated ourselves in my in-laws' residence which otherwise is empty. We
couldn't allow ourselves to get contracted in any way. Our utmost care to keep
the virus away, also had an invisible support that we realized when we tested
negative on RT-PCR during the following week.
The support stayed throughout. Lucky were we again to get a regular supply of Remdisivir (I'm still not sure if I spell and pronounce that correctly :)) from hospital's pharmacy. She was administered her 9th dose of scheduled 10 doses, when the shortage of Remdisivir got omnipresent. The 9 doses had already worked their wonder on her.
So was it with
Oxygen; she was already out of oxygen requirement, being monitored on normal
breathing by the time the shortage started showing up. Finally after 2 weeks,
she was on her way back. She came in on a stretcher and walked out of the
hospital herself, without any support.
I recalled the doctor's words on 3rd day- "Anyone with
that HRCT score walking out of the hospital on his own, would be a
miracle". Miracles do happen, miracle did happen. With deep gratitude we
thanked every single person and situation that helped to bring her out of this.
So many people were directly and indirectly involved in this, supporting us
through their action, well wishes and comforting words.
What simply went right in all this? Maybe the past karma,
the best wishes, the faith, the gratitude, positive thinking, blissful
ignorance, avoidance of overthinking? All summed up to form a blissful setting
that made things happen the right way, at the right time and right place. That
definitely was a Divine Intervention.
Sometimes in life we need incidents that reinforce our
beliefs in the invisible powers that support us when we need them the most. A
regular deposit of gratitude and karma enriching the credit side of life's balance
sheet accrues enough balance to withdraw in times of need.
Through this blog, I once again thank each and every person
whom I may not have named but whom I deeply revere as a meaningful contribution
in my mother's recovery. Thanks!
