Back in Black

My love affair with the color Black dates back exactly seven years ago today, April 30, 2005. That was the very first time in my life I wore all black, including my watch, my pair of socks and shoes and my beloved ring which had Mi Amor’s name encrypted on it.

First time ever in All Black -
Dated Apr 30, 2005

Since then on wards I have only wore black clothes for most part of my existence, I absolutely don’t feel good on a rare occasion when I wear a different colored outfit. Many of my conversations with few people, especially my close friends starts with a comment on my all black outfit; I have been called “The Man in Black” to “Blacky” to “Akshay in Black” and many more. I feel amused when I get comments like that because most of my friends have seen me wearing only black clothes for many years now.

My inspiration to wear black clothes was indeed the love of my life, Shaki. She used to wear mostly black clothes in her teens so I tried to emulate her by wearing only black clothes in my teens.

My Best Pic -
Dated Dec 26, 2007

Black has given me a new but different identity which I did not possess before. Everyone I know identifies me with the color black. They may not always know my style in terms of the clothes I wear, well there isn’t much style to talk about, I pretty much suck in that department but when you ask any of my friends what kind of clothes I wear, 9 out of 10 times you might get the answer as Black. And I never shop for my clothes either, well hardly. Only recently I have started to “learn” to shop for my own clothes but mostly the shopping part will be taken care of by my mom or my bro. Only condition I put forth before they buy clothes for me is, you guessed it, it should be only Black.

On top of Mullayanagiri Peak,
 on Aug 14, 2011

I do get a few weird stares when I walk on the road wearing all black, it doesn’t bother me at all, in fact I like the attention I get.  Although I don’t stand out in a crowd, nor I have the personality to stand out but wearing black makes me feel different from others and gives me the confidence to stand out in a crowd.

Ethnic Day -
Dated Oct 15, 2010

I absolutely do not like wearing Ethnic Clothes but when we had “Ethnic Day” in college a couple of years ago, I decided to wear ethnic for the first time in my life and obviously it had to be all black, much to the amusement of everyone. And on that particular day somebody even called me “Moosa Bhai” while I was walking on the road. No kidding.

On my Birthday -
Apr 13, 2012

I tend to laugh at people who say, “Black is unlucky” or it isn’t right to wear black clothes or anything to do with the color black because it brings them “Bad Omen”. I don’t believe in such nonsense. I will always continue with my fascination for the color black and continue to wear black clothes because black defines me, it defines who I really am. 

After a lot of struggle with my health issues in the past couple of months, I finally managed to stand up on my own feet and walk a few steps on my birthday a couple of weeks ago. I was determined to wear black on that day so that I can feel “normal” again. If you don’t know me that well probably you would not understand in totality what the last sentence really meant to me.

To me, black doesn’t stand for darkness or evil, it is a way of life and will always continue to be.

A Beautiful Birthday Gift

A month after the operation. Still smiling :)

Six months of enduring some excruciating pain, one unforgettable day of operation, after 6 weeks of physically challenging recuperation and after many mental, physical and emotional fight backs later, I finally managed to take my first few steps towards complete recovery today, a day before my birthday. It was like I was learning to walk all over again, one baby step after another. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life.

My knee muscles had become weaker because I hadn’t walked for close to six weeks, hence when I tried to walk I felt like I might fall over any moment. I was still very much imbalanced but managed to make myself steady to take my very first steps after the operation. I was overcome with emotions. Finally I felt no pain while walking; I was almost used to the pain while I walked, so much so it felt weird that I didn’t feel the pain while walking. Although it might take another two to three weeks more before I can make a complete recovery but today was one of the most emotional and happiest days of my life.

It might be a happy co-incidence that I took my first steps towards recovery a day before my birthday on April 12th exactly two years ago when I was diagnosed with ITP as well. My platelet count had miraculously increased to normal levels a day before my birthday. Although my platelet count plummeted 10 days later to below normal levels again. My platelets gradually increased after that and I made a complete recovery by the end of May, 2010.

My status message on April 12th 2010, a day before my birthday 

I don’t know what else to say because I feel too emotional to put my thoughts into words today. My mother has always been a pillar of strength for me and I could never have fought these battles on my own without her undying support and blessings. She is my inspiration. I love you Maa. You are the greatest mother in the whole wide world. And my dear bro as well for his love and support, I don’t know what I’ll do without him by my side.

I want to thank all my closest friends for their never ending support when I really need them. I am so lucky to have such amazing friends in my life. My few close relatives and cousins whom I truly love and trust, you know who you are, thank you for being there for me when I needed it.

And also a special thank you to my dear blog friends. Your amazing comments made me so much stronger, I can’t be thankful enough.

And with that, The Eternal Fighter makes another determined comeback, albeit not spectacular or dramatic like many previous occasions but it was definitely a hard fought comeback.

Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do

We all go through lots of success or failures in our life, be it personal or professional life. How do we accept those success or failures? Will you accept both in the same way or will you let the success go to your head and failure to your heart? We might accept success in the right spirits as we should but the same may not be said when we have gone through some gut-wrenching failures.

I have always tried to take both success and failures in my stride. Although I have experienced failures a lot more than success in my life but I have learnt to enjoy both in the same spirits. Its not that I do not succeed always but I have learnt to deal with failures a lot better. I never get bogged down by my failures nor let the success get to my head.

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail” – Ralph Waldo Emerson.

But what if you are going through a lot of adversities, devastation after devastation and one gut-wrenching failure after another? None of these adversities are self-inflicted but you are being severely tested, you are made to fight for every breath you take. How would you handle such situations? Will you just accept it as your fate and live with it or would you do anything to change it? Do you have the courage and the strength to stand up and fight for it?

I am constantly asking such questions to myself more so in the recent past but the answers I am giving myself aren’t very encouraging. I am still fighting for every breath I take; I still keep telling myself there is absolutely nothing in the world I cannot achieve but there is also fear, not the fear of failing but the fear of not trying, hard enough. I feel like I am still holding back for some reason, also due to my present circumstances I feel like I am forced to hold back. And that is not the right place to be in for me at this moment. Every breath I am taking now is a constant battle to break those shackles.

At the same time I ask myself whether my constant health issues have done more damage than I credit them for. I always keep telling myself that nothing can break me but the core of my entire self may already be irreversibly damaged. But I won’t let those demons in my head get the better of me, no not this time, not anytime.

Nick Vujicic - No Arms, No Legs, No Problems
Image Courtesy: Google Images

As the cliché goes, I will rise from the ashes like a phoenix and there is absolutely nothing in the world that can stop me. I have gone though many adversities in the past and I have fought back valiantly every time. I might have lost many times but I have never lost hope.

I will not lose hope now; I will fight back, as always. I will regain my faith and I will come out of this phase a stronger, tougher and a much more determined person. I will come out of this phase a winner.

If anyone feels otherwise, I just have one thing to tell them:

DON’T TELL ME WHAT I CAN’T DO.

No matter how many times you fail, you just need to keep trying. It matters how you are going to finish, are you going to finish strong?

The Day of the Operation

On the 4th of March, 2012, I was admitted to a hospital to receive treatment for the pain I was enduring in my left hip bone for the past few months. An MRI scan confirmed that I was suffering from a condition called Bilateral Avascular Necrosis (Bilateral AVN), meaning both my hip bones have been affected by this condition (I never felt the pain in my right hip bone, but the MRI scan showed that my right hip is also affected and is in its earliest of early stages of the condition). So, an operation called Core Decompression was performed on both my hips on the 5th of March, and I have been confined to a wheelchair ever since. I am not supposed to walk for the next 4 to 5 weeks at least.

I had written a series of logs documenting the “Day of the Operation” while I was in the hospital and had saved them as Notes on my phone. I would like to present them to my readers. Initially, I wanted to keep them only to myself, but later on, I changed my mind. I haven’t paraphrased or modified the sentence structure too much. To provide more clarity, I have inserted parenthetical statements. So, the below few paragraphs will showcase my exact state of mind on the day of my operation.

Log 1:

I have been on empty stomach since last night. I was a little agitated thinking about today but somehow managed to have some good night’s sleep. My operation was scheduled to take place at 10 AM, but as per my prior experience with Manipal Hospital, I can safely say I am in for a long day. (I was also made to wait a long time when I was admitted here for my ITP issue two years ago; a procedure called Bone Marrow was supposed to be done by 10 in the morning but it didn’t happen until 01:30 PM).

My visits to the loo became a bit frequent in the meanwhile, and I kept asking myself, “Will this be the last time I answer my nature’s call on my own for the next few weeks?” I tried not to let thoughts like these bother me, but it was becoming difficult as the wait was excruciating.

As I was on empty stomach since last night, my mother also refused to eat anything, which upset me a lot as I didn’t want my mom to suffer because of me. However, I eventually convinced her to eat something, which gave me a lot of relief. 

It's quarter past twelve, and I still haven’t got the call to go to the Operation Theatre. I was informed that the OT is full and several patients are still in waiting, so I was made to wait even longer. I was getting restless by the minute but held myself together. I had no fear but just wanted to get it over with.

Log 2:

The notes below were documented after I returned from the operating room.

Finally, at 3 PM, I got the call to go to the Operation Theatre. I felt a bit odd as I was moved to the OT on a stretcher. I experienced a spine-tingling moment when I reached the area where the operating rooms are located. Not surprisingly, I was made to wait again as there was some cleaning up process going on after an operation. I was dumped just outside the OT in a restricted room.

I just laid there watching a few doctors and helpers walking back and forth by me. The wait seemed endless, and my restlessness grew even more. In the meantime, a doctor, who was at the end of her shift, spoke to me. She asked me when did I eat last, I answered “Last night.” She felt bad and she said, “Oh, this is why we don't like to make the patients wait, but the OT is very busy today.” I just nodded. Before leaving, she just waved at me and said “Good luck,” and I replied with a “Thank you” and a smile.

Operation Theatre (Representational Image)

Finally, I was taken into the Operation Theatre. I glanced at the clock, and it was 05:05 PM. I said to myself, “Freak, that was the longest two hours of my life.”

I was given the anaesthesia, and I was asked to breathe heavily into an oxygen mask. Before I went under, I received a caring pat on the back by Dr Varma, my orthopaedic surgeon. And, that’s the last thing I remember.

When I woke up, I remember shivering profusely. It took me three whole seconds to realise the operation was actually over. The first thing I read were the words “Post Ortho Operation Theatre” on the board right in front of me. I was still shivering, but I was in my senses, so much so that I asked the lady who was there in the Post OT room, “Was it really that cold in the OT?” barely managing to say those words in a single breath. She smiled and said, “Yes,” indicating that I need to rest now. A heating instrument was placed right above me to increase my body temperature. I overheard the lady talking to someone on the phone that my operation went on for an hour from 05:30 to 06:30 PM. I asked her what time it was, and she said, “Ten past seven.” So, I was unconscious for over two hours, and I was kept in the Post OT room for another two hours. Later that night, I was taken to the X-Ray room to get the X-Ray of my hips after the operation.

I was to be shifted to another stretcher to carry me to the X-Ray room, which was on one of the basement floors. A couple of nurses and helpers came along. A junior doctor asked me if I can move to the stretcher on my own, and I immediately nodded in approval. When I tried to move my legs, I couldn’t move them an inch. Both my hips were heavily plastered, and the pressure was so immense, I couldn’t even move them. I could feel my legs but didn’t have enough strength to get them across to the other stretcher. I told them, “I can’t move my legs.” When I uttered those words, it was probably one of the most significant moments of my life. I couldn’t believe I said that. So, a couple of nurses held my legs and placed them onto the stretcher. A male nurse tried to hold my shoulders to help me move to the stretcher, but I refused. I said, “I can do it on my own.” My ego was already bruised, so I wouldn’t let that happen again. I garnered all my upper body strength and managed to move onto the stretcher on my own. It was a triumphant moment. Considering the fact that I hadn’t eaten or drank anything for 24 hours now, I still had some strength left in me.

I was carried to the X-Ray room by a cute nurse and another female helper. I felt nauseous along the way because of the anaesthesia but tried to hold it in. We were in the middle of nowhere, so the nurse couldn’t find anything like a bowl or a cover for my vomiting sensation. Along the way, I felt somewhat okay and was taken straight to the X-Ray room. There was again another struggle here to get me across to the X-Ray table and then back onto the stretcher. After the X-Ray was done, I was going to be taken back to my room on the ninth floor. While coming back, I finally saw my mom and my brother with a concerned look on their faces. I just looked at my bro and gave him a thumbs-up, as if to say I was doing great. Before we could enter my room, I vomited on the floor. It was an embarrassing moment but was unavoidable. I was placed on my bed a few minutes later, and yet again, I insisted on moving over to my bed on my own. But, I needed some assistance again. And, so it was finally done!

But the real battle starts now!