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.

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!

Another Devastation, Another Fightback!

A Fightback!
Image Courtesy: Google Images

I knew it was not going to be a normal day. I didn't know why but I certainly felt it. The day started with the delivery guy from Flipkart calling me up and asking me whether I would be home to receive the package. The package was all the books I needed to prepare for my Civil Services exam. My dream is to be an IAS Officer, and that dream is finally starting to materialise. I was happy to receive the package. My preparation had been unofficially underway for the past few months but now it finally became official. I had been through a torrid time personally of late, so this small step to realise my long-cherished dream was definitely a confidence-building measure.

The day was important for another reason as well. I had to undergo another blood test (have to do it every three months) to check if my platelets are still holding up in the normal levels or not. I was completely off tablets since last November, so it was very crucial for me to know if my platelets are holding up well without the help of any medication. For those who are not aware, I was diagnosed with a condition called Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura almost two years ago, and I have been struggling to recover from that condition ever since. So, today was the D-Day so to speak to know whether I have completely recovered from my illness or not.

So, I went to the hospital to get the blood test done and consult my haemotologist for further actions. I felt really good and was confident the results would be positive, so I wasn't worried. The report was good, my platelet count was normal and safe at 326,000. I felt really happy as I have finally recovered from my condition after almost two years of struggle and hardships. But, I do have to come again for another round of blood tests three months later.

And there was one more reason for me to feel happy. My beloved Indian Cricket Team was annihilating Sri Lanka in their last group match. They had to beat SL with a bonus point to have any chance of qualifying for the finals in the ongoing CB Series. As a genuine cricket lover, I have been really disappointed by our team's dismal showing in this series; I had almost given up hope. But their stunning performance against SL restored my faith in my beloved game. As I was watching the match in the hospital lounge, I have to say, I was more worried about the result of the match than my blood test report.

But all that happiness I had been experiencing since morning was about to be short-lived.

When I was diagnosed with ITP, I was given a whole lot of medication, including steroids and other tablets. Obviously, the medicines had taken a toll on me, and I had gained a lot of weight as well back then. For the past few months, I have been experiencing pain in my left upper thigh bone (femoral head), and I feel some discomfort while walking. Initially, I suspected it to be a cramp but, as days went on, the pain did not subside. So, I suspected something was not right. For some reason, I refused to consult a doctor. I don't know why; maybe I was punishing myself for my sins. I know it doesn't make much sense to anyone reading this, but my state of mind was such, I wanted to endure the pain and live with it. Despite repeated attempts from my mom, I kept delaying to consult a doctor regarding the pain in my hip bone. 

So, I finally complained about it to my haematologist when we consulted him on the 27th of February. I asked him whether the pain was due to the side effects of the steroids, or was it something else. He suggested that I immediately consult an orthopaedician, and they would check my medical records and come to a conclusion as to why I was experiencing the pain. An X-Ray was performed on my thigh bones. And after examining the X-Ray, the orthopaedician told me that I have been suffering from a condition called Avascular Necrosis—It is a disease where there is a death of bone components due to interruption of blood supply. The reason for my condition was indeed due to the steroids I had received to overcome my other illness. My fate is such, the medicines given to me to cure one illness has become the cause for another. I am thankfully in the early stages of the condition (Stage I), so for young patients like myself, a procedure called Core Decompression will be performed. It will be done on both my hips as the doctor suspects that my right hip is also affected.

They hope to achieve three things by doing Core Decompression:

• Lower or decompress the blood pressure.
• Restore the blood circulation to the dead bone tissue.
• And, hopefully, relieve my pain. 

The doctor said that there is only a 50 to 60% chance of complete recovery with this process. And, later, he said something that completely stunned me. I will be confined to a wheelchair for more than six weeks after the procedure. The thought of me not being able to walk on my own frightened me. I have never been dependent on anyone—ever. So, this thought of depending on crutches or others to help me to even walk or not being able to go to the bathroom on my own—is something I am not able to fathom.

An MRI scan was done on both my hips today morning (1st of March), and the report is expected tomorrow. Based on that, my orthopaedician will decide the future course of action.

I was really devastated when I got to know about my hip condition. On the day I overcame one illness, I had to deal with another. This is the newest battle in my life, and I am ready to fight it and overcome it with the same resilience and defiance as I have been fighting all the obstacles in my life. Now, I am all the more determined to do really well in my IAS exams. I won't let my condition affect my preparations. 

Some live to fight another day. I fight to live, every day.

NOTHING CAN BREAK ME! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING CAN BREAK ME!

My battle with Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura - A Year On!

“When life tries to fuck your case, show your middle finger to it and say, ‘Fuck you, I ain’t going down without a fight!’”

Today, exactly a year ago, I was diagnosed with a condition called ITP - a condition of having a low platelet count. The days leading up to Mar 9, 2010, were crucial. Initially, I noticed some blood clots on my arms and legs and on my upper body (pale pink dots). And, the worst part was, it started spreading throughout my body, but I had not taken this seriously. A day or two later, I started bleeding through my nose and my teeth gums. By this time I realised that something is seriously not right. So, I went to a clinic to get a blood test done. My platelet count was very low at 11,000; the doctor advised me to get admitted immediately as my condition was potentially serious. But I was in no position to accept that as I felt great physically, and apart from the bleeding, I didn’t feel there was anything wrong with me. I was also adamant I needed to attend my 1st internals (of my 6th semester) no matter what the following day, so I declined to get admitted to a hospital. After much deliberation and insistence from my mom, I finally gave in and got admitted to Manipal Hospital (in a very dramatic fashion I might add) at around 4 AM on Mar 9th. A few hours ago, my platelet count was 11,000 but now in the hospital, it had reduced to 5,000 and was dangerously decreasing.

The next few months that followed were the toughest months of my life—mentally, physically and emotionally. My platelet count kept fluctuating below 10,000 for the next 40 days or so and no signs of recovery were in sight. At this time, due to all the side effects of the medication, I had gained a whole chunk of weight, (I had literally gained 15 kilograms in two days at one point). To top that, my bleeding hadn’t stopped. Apart from the gums and nose, I started bleeding through my motion as well (and every conceivable hole in my body). Well, I'm exaggerating a bit but it certainly felt that way. I had developed some petechial rashes throughout my upper body and face and some of the rashes exist even to this day.

It was more of a mental battle for me rather than a physical one. I kept fighting, never gave up. I used to feel frustrated because my condition was not improving, and also because I couldn’t do anything in my power to make it improve. A little nervousness kept creeping up in my heart every now and then, and I started hallucinating probably due to the medication, which made it very difficult for me to sleep every night (I really can’t explain those feelings in words).

Finally, after struggling for more than two months with this condition, which included almost a month in a hospital bed, I finally started showing some signs of recovery and my platelet count started improving. Today, my platelet count stands at a healthy and safe 326,000, and most importantly, it’s kept steady at that level for the past 6 months and will hopefully stay that way in the future. 

But what really kept me going was, I had the support of my wonderful family and my beloved friends who kept supporting me all the way through thick and thin. I will forever be indebted for their support and care. Every “How are you now?” or “Get well soon” or “Take care” or a Facebook comment or a call asking about my health—meant everything to me. It made me a lot stronger and gave me the strength to carry on. I will never ever forget it. Thank you.