Could I have ever thought that it would be my last night with my mom? I had to rush her to a hospital in Bangalore as she complained of discomfort and admit her to an emergency ward. The time was close to 10-30 p.m. The doctor divulged that she had sepsis.
My mother had been a strong lady with no ailment except for her knee problem. She was attended to by doctors from all fields — homeopathy, Ayurveda, physiotherapy and finally six months before, allopathy. She spent all her time with my father in Madurai till a month back when I decided to bring her to Bangalore for a change.
When I heard that she had developed sepsis, I knew its consequences would be severe for diabetes and heart patients, but I consoled myself that it would not harm my mother. I stood beside her when not running to the pharmacy to fetch antibiotics and medicines. She was highly disturbed by the beep sound of the monitoring gadgets, often asking me to go and rest and not to worry about her. At 4 a.m., doctors shifted her to the ward. Her vitals were normal except for the breathing rate.
Around 4-25 a.m., I closed my eyes for a while. When I opened my eyes at 5 a.m., my mom was being attended to by a nurse. The needle, feeding medicine and saline got pulled away and she was bleeding for a while. I still curse myself for not being alert and making her suffer. She would have never failed to feed me on the night of my birth. Around 7-30, my wife and sister relieved me of duty and I went home with a heavy heart that I let my mother bleeding. I rushed back to hospital after finishing my breakfast, when I was to hear many rude facts.
As I was told that she should be taken to the intensive care unit, my feet started trembling. The tone of the physicians was quite disheartening. I went close to my mother and told close to her ears, “I love you mom”. She smiled and pushed my cheeks. All preparations were made to take her to the ICU. The moment she was taken inside, I was approached by three doctors. They took me and my sister aside for a lecture on what could happen and how we should be prepared mentally.
Whenever I saw her in the ICU, she was signalling that she was thirsty. I was prevented from feeding her as it may aspirate into her lungs. On the third day of her admission, when she showed improvement, I told her, leaning on to the bed bars, that she would be in the ward the next day. Her eyebrows signalled a sense of relief.
As the 11th day at the ICU dawned, I was allowed to stay beside my mother as she was gradually
sinking. She could not open her eyes. The night when she was at the ward before being moved to the ICU, she was struggling to breathe.
I now lament that why did I not say her how I loved her often all those years. If given another chance, I would have kept telling her that, not limiting my greeting to Mother’s Day. In my professional career of 24 years, I had never taken any planned leave. Now I had marked my calendar up to next 12 months, the days I have to perform rituals.
As a child when I grew up in the 1970s, challenges for my mother was tough, in a middle-class joint family. She never made me feel hungry. At the slightest instance, she would feed me. Unlike these days, when ready- to-eat foods are available, feeding a child was difficult in those days. She was keen to buy new clothes for Deepavali and would see to it that my shirt and pants were stitched a month before the festival.
During her last two years, she was struggling to walk but resisted use of any aids. Even during her trips, she walked on long airport corridors and never used the wheelchair. We used to share our thoughts that had she been born in the 1990, she would have managed a company.
I dedicate this piece to all who have lost their mothers and for those who are highly preoccupied with professional commitments and staying away from parents. They should not repent like me after losing their parents.
gvenkatakuppuswamy@yahoo.com