<p>On July 5 this year, I was in for a pleasant surprise. I call it ‘pleasant’ because that’s how it felt at the time. It was around 8:30 pm, and I had just finished my daily table tennis routine. Before I could make further plans, something unexpected was to unfold. I suffered what’s known as a ‘neural attack’. I was speaking over the phone with a young friend, a colleague from my project work, when she suddenly sensed that something was wrong - perhaps she noticed a change in my speech. Knowing that I live alone, without wasting anytime she contacted a few other colleagues who lived close to me in West Delhi, and quickly arranged for an ambulance. How I managed to open the door for the ambulance staff and the colleagues who came with them remains a story in itself. </p>.<p>No one, including me, knew what was happening. It was fuzzy but strangely I could recall every detail of a song that seemed to be playing – I still don’t know whether it was in the neighbourhood or just in my mind. Astonishingly, I could rhythmically recite it in my head.</p>.<p>To cut a long story short, the right side of my body had lost all sensation. I was taken to a nearby private hospital, where my son rushed in from Gurugram to take care of me. I owe my gratitude to the doctors and medical staff who cared for me during my stay in the hospital. I’m thankful for their reassurance that I would recover with physiotherapy. It felt like a fresh start.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Some say these 13-14 weeks have been a ‘trying time’ for me. But I think it has been a ‘unique learning’ experience. There’s no other way I could have learned so much. As I returned to life, I learnt what we often take for granted. As a child we started ‘walking’ as a natural development, with some help from our parents. But relearning it now is an entirely different experience; like adding new motor experiences to my being. Every step is a new learning. The physiotherapist helps the limbs do the needful. It may take time, and I need patience. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Relationships have taken on new significance. They have acquired a renewed sense of meaning and depth. I have realised that friendships can and must transcend mere formalities. Friendship has many layers and meanings. I never had a permanent job, only short-term commitments but my friends have stood by me. They even took care of my medical bills, without knowing that they would be reimbursed. Their presence physically and digitally has enriched my life. I have never felt alone. One of them visits me every week, takes me for a long drive and we end our outing with a cup of coffee in a busy shopping mall, making me feel like a part of the crowd. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The biggest lesson has been learning to appreciate the small things and looking forward to the future. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The story is far from over.</p>
<p>On July 5 this year, I was in for a pleasant surprise. I call it ‘pleasant’ because that’s how it felt at the time. It was around 8:30 pm, and I had just finished my daily table tennis routine. Before I could make further plans, something unexpected was to unfold. I suffered what’s known as a ‘neural attack’. I was speaking over the phone with a young friend, a colleague from my project work, when she suddenly sensed that something was wrong - perhaps she noticed a change in my speech. Knowing that I live alone, without wasting anytime she contacted a few other colleagues who lived close to me in West Delhi, and quickly arranged for an ambulance. How I managed to open the door for the ambulance staff and the colleagues who came with them remains a story in itself. </p>.<p>No one, including me, knew what was happening. It was fuzzy but strangely I could recall every detail of a song that seemed to be playing – I still don’t know whether it was in the neighbourhood or just in my mind. Astonishingly, I could rhythmically recite it in my head.</p>.<p>To cut a long story short, the right side of my body had lost all sensation. I was taken to a nearby private hospital, where my son rushed in from Gurugram to take care of me. I owe my gratitude to the doctors and medical staff who cared for me during my stay in the hospital. I’m thankful for their reassurance that I would recover with physiotherapy. It felt like a fresh start.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Some say these 13-14 weeks have been a ‘trying time’ for me. But I think it has been a ‘unique learning’ experience. There’s no other way I could have learned so much. As I returned to life, I learnt what we often take for granted. As a child we started ‘walking’ as a natural development, with some help from our parents. But relearning it now is an entirely different experience; like adding new motor experiences to my being. Every step is a new learning. The physiotherapist helps the limbs do the needful. It may take time, and I need patience. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Relationships have taken on new significance. They have acquired a renewed sense of meaning and depth. I have realised that friendships can and must transcend mere formalities. Friendship has many layers and meanings. I never had a permanent job, only short-term commitments but my friends have stood by me. They even took care of my medical bills, without knowing that they would be reimbursed. Their presence physically and digitally has enriched my life. I have never felt alone. One of them visits me every week, takes me for a long drive and we end our outing with a cup of coffee in a busy shopping mall, making me feel like a part of the crowd. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The biggest lesson has been learning to appreciate the small things and looking forward to the future. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The story is far from over.</p>
