Report of 26 Jan 2020
2020 sounds cool. Like hindsight.
It is India's Republic Day today. The 71st one. The Constitution was adopted on 26 January 1950 and we became a republic. Hooray!
We are well. I was at Kovalam this week and the bereaved gentleman came for a checkup. I asked - as I ask of most of my patients - if he had eaten that morning and he had: rice. I asked where, and he said, "Home." I was delighted: he had not previously wanted to eat at home, in his grief - the food tasted different, it was not his wife's cooking, he preferred to eat at a hotel, etc. His eating at home is a good sign to me that he is coming to terms with his wife's absence. He seemed pleased that I was pleased.
A lady came, stating that she was wary I would reprimand her for being noncompliant with her meds. She said her grandson had died, and she had not kept up with her medication regimen, with the demise and the rituals surrounding it. I was stricken. It is a tragedy to outlive one's child and to outlive one's grandchild - I can only imagine the enormity of the sadness. As I held her face in my hands and consoled her, then directing her to get her blood pressure checked at the next desk where our capable assistant, Keerthana, sits, the student intern in the room said, "How did he die?" As though it mattered. I imagine I was this pesky as a student, also. Then the student - who does not speak Tamil - asked how the patient was; I said, "Grieving," and that was that.
I don't know the fine art of keeping quiet, either, so I cannot urge it of anyone else, can I.
Adaikalam was good. One of our patients has joined the staff as a health care worker and we are happy. She is a very perceptive lady and jumps to attend to patients' needs. She also gives good massages and I have been a happy recipient of this therapeutic service. It is truly spectacular when a patient's mental illness comes under control, the underlying self-confidence becomes resurgent and the patient proceeds to use her/his skills, earning a nice living and getting more self-confident in this entire process. We've heard of vicious cycles; this one is a benevolent, happy cycle.
Scott and I attended a festival celebration of our rural heritage, saw artworks at the open house of a local artists' village, and saw the movie "1917." I couldn't quite appreciate the finesse of 1 continuous shot, but enjoyed the movie and was saddened by many parts of it. I did enjoy the fine cameos of well-known stars - especially Mark Strong, a favorite - in the flick.
At our Pongal celebrations and at the village celebration, there was a performance called Parai Aattam. Parai is a type of drum. As the drummers played, the music spoke to my DNA and all my blood vessels; I did dance at the Pongal event when they called for audience participation and am unfailingly surprised that Scott can stay without moving a muscle when thumping, rhythmic, joyous music is played.
We got to hang out with our sons this week and it was nice, though Naren was tired. It was nice to talk and laugh and get updated on happenings in their lives. I spoke to my Dad today and there were a couple of chuckles, which I appreciated.
Today is the 21st anniversary of my handsome brother Manu's demise. It is the first time in many years that I am not in Madurai, going to the cemetery with my father. I miss Manu's presence and geniality and easy laughter, even his hideous turquoise blue tank top. I am grateful his family stays in our lives.
Enjoy your own family.
Unw -
R
It is India's Republic Day today. The 71st one. The Constitution was adopted on 26 January 1950 and we became a republic. Hooray!
We are well. I was at Kovalam this week and the bereaved gentleman came for a checkup. I asked - as I ask of most of my patients - if he had eaten that morning and he had: rice. I asked where, and he said, "Home." I was delighted: he had not previously wanted to eat at home, in his grief - the food tasted different, it was not his wife's cooking, he preferred to eat at a hotel, etc. His eating at home is a good sign to me that he is coming to terms with his wife's absence. He seemed pleased that I was pleased.
A lady came, stating that she was wary I would reprimand her for being noncompliant with her meds. She said her grandson had died, and she had not kept up with her medication regimen, with the demise and the rituals surrounding it. I was stricken. It is a tragedy to outlive one's child and to outlive one's grandchild - I can only imagine the enormity of the sadness. As I held her face in my hands and consoled her, then directing her to get her blood pressure checked at the next desk where our capable assistant, Keerthana, sits, the student intern in the room said, "How did he die?" As though it mattered. I imagine I was this pesky as a student, also. Then the student - who does not speak Tamil - asked how the patient was; I said, "Grieving," and that was that.
I don't know the fine art of keeping quiet, either, so I cannot urge it of anyone else, can I.
Adaikalam was good. One of our patients has joined the staff as a health care worker and we are happy. She is a very perceptive lady and jumps to attend to patients' needs. She also gives good massages and I have been a happy recipient of this therapeutic service. It is truly spectacular when a patient's mental illness comes under control, the underlying self-confidence becomes resurgent and the patient proceeds to use her/his skills, earning a nice living and getting more self-confident in this entire process. We've heard of vicious cycles; this one is a benevolent, happy cycle.
Scott and I attended a festival celebration of our rural heritage, saw artworks at the open house of a local artists' village, and saw the movie "1917." I couldn't quite appreciate the finesse of 1 continuous shot, but enjoyed the movie and was saddened by many parts of it. I did enjoy the fine cameos of well-known stars - especially Mark Strong, a favorite - in the flick.
At our Pongal celebrations and at the village celebration, there was a performance called Parai Aattam. Parai is a type of drum. As the drummers played, the music spoke to my DNA and all my blood vessels; I did dance at the Pongal event when they called for audience participation and am unfailingly surprised that Scott can stay without moving a muscle when thumping, rhythmic, joyous music is played.
We got to hang out with our sons this week and it was nice, though Naren was tired. It was nice to talk and laugh and get updated on happenings in their lives. I spoke to my Dad today and there were a couple of chuckles, which I appreciated.
Today is the 21st anniversary of my handsome brother Manu's demise. It is the first time in many years that I am not in Madurai, going to the cemetery with my father. I miss Manu's presence and geniality and easy laughter, even his hideous turquoise blue tank top. I am grateful his family stays in our lives.
Enjoy your own family.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu at
5:46 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home