This entire week has been traumatic.
Last Tuesday my baby came down with a viral attack.
Generally she is up and active by eight in the morning, but that day, she appeared a bit slow. I thought she would be better in a couple of hours and left her alone. But as the day progressed, she grew more and more sluggish. I was getting worried and called up my husband. He just dismissed my worry and told me to wait till he came home. By the time he came, I was a complete wreck. I generally do not fall apart at such situations but this was different. I felt so helpless.
My husband, after looking her over, decided to wait till morning. He just told me to cheer up and I felt angry. How like an insensitive man. Here I was, sick with worry and he was telling me to have fun. I felt bitterness rise up my throat.
The whole night I was restless. I kept getting up to check on my baby. I would gently caress my fingers over her body. Try to figure out if she was getting better. But she was unresponsive as ever and seemed dead to the world. I knew this was something serious.
Next morning, my husband and I knew it was time to call in the experts. Bundling up, he gently lifted her and put her in the car. I wanted to come too but what could I do there except wait? My husband decided that I would be better off in the house. The old bitterness rose again and stayed in my throat this time.
It seemed nothing I could do would take away my anxiety. I went about doing my daily chores feeling listless. Then my husband called home with the shocker. Her memory had failed completely. Sensing my grief, he gently said " Don't worry, they are doing their best... she will get better and will be back home before you know it." At last some understanding. But I was too numb with emotions to appreciate his concern. Anger. Sorrow. Anxiety. Frustration. All seemed to boil inside. Why me? And why now when I had so many plans for her?
The next few days seemed to blend into each other. Apart from the daily progress reports from them, we could do nothing. Apparently it was a bad virus. I was devastated. I took such a good care of her. Never exposed her to any potential threats, then how could this happen?
I was also pained by the behaviour of everyone in the house. Nobody seemed as affected as me. I was the only one slowly dying inside.
Then the unthinkable happened. Michael Jackson died. And my husband came home with guests. He decided I needed some cheering. What could be better than some elaborate breakfast and and lunch? So here I was, making poori- sabzi and serving them early morning, when the doctors were tearing apart Michael's body and my baby was slowly being given a new lease of life.
Finally, this morning, I decided enough was enough. I had to leave my home. If I had waited even a few more hours to write, surely a dam would have burst inside me. So I am now here, at a cyber-cafe venting my feelings. My family is peacefully sleeping at home. After all what do they care if the PC is not at home? They do not blog after all.
My husband has promised me that my baby will come back soon. I have been told that she is getting formatted. She will get a new configuration. She is also getting some brand new software.
So till the time she is home I guess I will have to use this seedy cafe. I hope you all will be more understanding than my family. Please feel free to fill up my comment box with your get well messages. I desperately need some sympathy to heal my world.
And Rest In Peace Michael. You will be sorely missed.