What is your favorite sound?
My favorite sound in the world is the silence on a lonely night. There's a stillness, as though the air itself is afraid to move.
I do some of my best work in that silence.
We are all living under a loaded gun, just wishing everyday that the trigger doesn't gets pulled.
Well some of us have a more obvious reason to think about afterlife, but make no mistake, we're all rowing in the same boat.
I have no idea how things will end up.
All the things that I have done, memories, they never hurt me. But the past, it's more than memories.
It's like a part of your soul still dwells in those moments, and you recollect them, just to live it all over again in your head.
The things you could have done better, the things that could have been done differently.
Chances are, I won't be around to explain myself later. So I'm making this journal, starting here, as a declaration of intent, so that no one will be in any doubt when I say I was alone.
It was August of 2016. I was suffering from severe Gastropharesis. For the ones newer to the term, it's a condition that affects the normal spontaneous movement of the muscles in your stomach.
Ordinarily, the strong muscular contractions propel food through your digestive tract but if you have Gastropharesis, your stomach's motility is slowed down or doesn't work at all, preventing your stomach from emptying properly.
I was struggling with the low levels every now and then and I used to vomit everything I eat.
It all started back in June 2016 and for about 2 months the things kept getting worse.
I was vomiting everyday not keeping any food or water down.
I was on about 4 different medications for my stomach along with my diabetic medications.
I couldn't go to work anymore. I felt sick and helpless. I was trying really hard to keep my head up.
31 July 2016 I had an appointment with the eye specialist.
I came back in the evening. I had an uneasy feeling.
I was feeling quite sick so I had my dinner and went to sleep.
Next thing I know, I woke up on 2 Aug!
I was passed out for 2 days.
It was not a comfortable situation, as far as I can explain it. I felt profoundly sick, feeling all the cells in my brain dying slowly. I was trembling, running cold sweat all over my body.
I could hear my phone ringing but I couldn't find it. I was thirsty. I gathered strength and poured myself some juice.
I had a desperately long sip, just to vomit it out the next moment. It wouldn't go down my throat.
I checked my levels I was 1.6 mmol/L. An eerie feeling took over me when I realized I will die if my levels do not come up.
The phone was still ringing.
I figured I needed a Glucagon shot, so I tried to get hold of my phone.
I took a look around the room. It was a mess.
My blanket was laying on the floor. The pillow was soiled with vomits on it, the heater laid on the floor across the other side of the room. It looked like a scene from one of my nightmares.
While I was trying hard to recollect what exactly happened, what date and time it was the phone kept ringing constantly. I finally found it under my bed.
It was my grandfather.
I told him abruptly that I do not know what is happening. I have to call an ambulance and I hung up.
I called the emergency number, told them about my condition and requested an ambulance.
It seemed like the person on the other line was having fun in my misery. In reply, he told me that since I am conscious, they cannot send an ambulance. Instead, I should try to eat something and fix up my levels. I tried reasoning with him but instead he connected me to a nurse who was asking me to do all the things that I already tried in vain.
I stumbled through the walk way and woke my housemate up. I handed over the phone and told her to explain to the emergency people that I am dying and I need an ambulance. while she was trying to explain them what is going on I kept telling myself, You are strong Ravneet, if you faint you are gonna die. Do not faint.
When you go across the ocean, often visit the hospital, alone, the whole time you're thinking you're gonna be scared. You're not. See, that part was always easy for me. Suffering. Even watching my buddies suffer, it didn't mean nothing. That night was the first time I got scared, literally to death.
I kept thinking God was going to pull the rug out from under me.
Out of Nowhere, a colleague of mine showed up at the house and asked me to come with him to the hospital. While I was trying to rationalize the events, he told me in the car that my father texted me from India, a day ago. When he didn't get a reply for more than a day, he sensed there is something wrong.
He called up my boss who was in Gold coast and asked him to check up on me.
My boss called up my colleague and sent him to my address to figure things out.
On my way to the hospital, I was blabbering. I kept asking him why is it dark, as for me it should be 11 AM in the morning of 1 August but actually it was 11 PM of 2 August. That's when it occurred to me that I was passed out for 2 days.
We reached the hospital. They took me in and gave me a glucagon shot. I was put on a drip and I was fine overnight. Next day they did all the tests, the normal routine.
Everything was going fine, unless all of a sudden I started losing my breath.
They couldn't figure it out so they took me in the emergency room and put me on oxygen.
I was screaming with pain as they were squeezing needles in me.
When they ran out of ideas they finally decided to transfer me to the hospital from where my treatment was going on since past 3 years and were treating me for my diabetes and other complications.
Once they transferred me to the John Hunter Hospital. I was immediately admitted to the emergency. They ran some tests on me and then I went to sleep.
The following morning, they told me that I have developed Aspiration Pneumonia as I inhaled my vomit while I was passed out and some of it found its way back in my lungs. The oxygen mask used to irritate me so much but without it I couldn't breathe. I was admitted for 2 weeks and everyday I used to ask my doctor if I can be discharged and he used look at me and laugh and say and how do you think you're gonna breathe without the oxygen mask.
I was on on 2 different fluids and insulin infusion. I had bruises all over my arms as they used to change the cannula every second day. It was one of the worst phases of my life but I guess it made me more stronger than I was before.
I couldn't speak to my parents during those 2 weeks. I was weak. I couldn't speak much, nor did I felt like speaking to anyone. A day before I got discharged, I called up my family, telling them that I am okay.
Rachael visited me with some flowers and I begged her to get me some McDonalds.
I was craving a wrap so much. When she finally got me a wrap, I finished it like I hadn't eaten in days.
My colleague came to pick me up when I was discharged. I finally went out walking in the sun after 2 long weeks. It felt so good, it can't be expressed in words. The feeling of being able to walk in the sun, being able to breathe without a pipe stuck in my nose, the feeling of walking through your nightmares, and making it out alive. I never felt so alive in my entire life.
I was back at work in no time, and resumed like nothing happened.Most of my colleagues didn't have a clue what I went through, and I greeted everyone the same.
I can hear what you're thinking. All of your doubts and fears. If you look in my eyes, in time you'll find the reason I'm here. And In time, all things shall pass away. In time, you may come back some day, to live once more or die once more. In time, your time will be no more. Just make sure, before that time arrives, you squeeze the juice out of your life every minute, every day.
I do the same. I hope you do too.