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Location: New York, New York, United States

My move to New York has become something of a challenge and a tremendous source of entertainment for friends and co-workers. So I've started this blog. Hope to amuse and educate you.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Post Depression Exhiliration

Did you know that I am writing this post merely one week after finishing the last one about Norway? That is because I have decided to contribute to this post regularly, so that it is more like a blog and less like a once-every-two-months essay.

Not much has happened since we returned from Norway. I have continued my moving into the new apartment rituals, bumped into Keanu Reeves and bought two novels to read and review. I know you would love to learn more about my Keanu Reeves experience, but it turns he (also) lives in the UWS and he (also) likes pizza places like Carmine's and so this was bound to happen sooner or later. Uma Thurman lives here too... but I haven't bumped into her while shopping for cucumbers at the Gourmet Garage YET. But again, this is bound to happen. I'm told talking about celebrity sightings is so passe...Yaaaawn. ( But because the value of a blog is linked to the blogger's honesty, I will add that I was jumping up and down when I saw Keanu Reeves. Partly because he looks JUST like himself in real life, and partly because I couldn't remember his real name... only 'Neo'. He was smoking and chatting up a girl... I wish I had one of those camera cellphones!)

I really want to host a party at my new apartment. Something about the big open space in the living room, neatly waxed bare floors and and unremarkable views from the living room windows seems to suggest that I should get a rocking party going. Lots of cool people in sequined tanks (or party shirts for the men) crowding the living room, spilling into the kitchen and bedrooms. Half-full bottles of wine on our makeshift dining table at one corner. The unobtrusive starbucks jazz CD playing on the music system. I can see it. I just don't have an excuse to party because the nicest thing that has happened recently is that I bought a completely new bedroom set. This is yet to be delivered, but it is the high point of my day right now. I don't think its appropriate to have a party to celebrate 'my new bedroom' (though Samantha did have a 'I'm still single' party... but that was Sex and the City, and this is my life). I suppose Animesh and I should celebrate the new bedroom ourselves, but we are a staid old couple. Thats not much fun. And we won't use up 1000 sq. ft. of space anyway. So while I continue to consider excuses for throwing my big bash, I am also browsing for deals on a queen size sheet set and pretty ceramic vases to place on top of the matching dresser.

Incidently, I have also taken internet shopping to a new low by visiting ebay.com regularly. I was nervous about my upcoming surgery, and simply wanted to distract myself. I bid on two auctions for paperback romance novels of the kind teenage girls read in school, and won them both. I am now the owner of 47 romances purchased for an unremarkable $4.00! The first 36 arrived quietly the day before my surgery, and I read two between bouts of hunger and diarrhea. Romance novels are like bad TV programs. They don't entertain or stimulate, but like greasy oil spillage they spread out on the ocean surface and protect it from any other rational thought.

In prepration for surgery, I had to restrict myself to a diet of clear fluids (juice, stock, tea) and avoid all dairy and solid foods. I was also given medication to induce heavy diarrhea... presumably to clear out my bowels, and preserve the surgeon's delicate nostrils from taking offense while he hacked into me. Bt the end of the day, my breath smelled of chicken stock, my bums were numb to all sensation and I hated myself.

We arrived for surgery at 6am the next day, emaciated and sleep deprived. Between 6am and 8:30am I was disrobed, placed on an operating table, attached to an IV and made to sign several consent forms stating that I understood the risks of getting Hysteroscopy and Laparascpy done, and that I wanted it done anyway. Mostly I remember waiting in different rooms with other gowned patients. Hospital attire is most unflattering, and designed, I think, to make the doctors look less silly in their scrubs. At one point in the operating room the anesthesiologist bent over me with a syringe and said 'Heres a little appetizer'... shortly thereafter a nurse was saying 'Wake up Gupta, your surgery is all done'. I was allowed to go home in a couple of hours, after I had performed the following tasks; coughed, had a glass of apple juice and urinated, the last of which brought me pain and discomfort, but who was I to complain. I was glad to get out of that place.

At home I promptly fell into deep sleep and had some very vivid dreams. I was walking about in the hospital with my own clothes and the hospital bracelet on. They had a huge auditorium where Rupa Bhajwa (a fairly new Indian author) was doing a signing for her new book, 'Interrupted'. Several people went up on stage and gave testimonials of how profound an impact she had on their lives, at which the whole crowd, Animesh included, broke into thunderous applause and tears of joy. I left the cultish gathering to find myself a bathroom which I remember visiting again and again due to my frequent and painful need to urinate. The toilets were run down, unisex and the stalls didn't close. Finally I was accosted by a large group of med students who demanded to know why I 'just sat there' for so long when so many 'of us need to go'. I pointed to my hospital bracelet and said 'because I am sick. See, I am a patient, please! I can't help it!'. I woke up then, embarrassed and needing to pee.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

8:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i didn't know u had an operation till i read your blog.....what's up with u girl? are you better now?
take care.
sulagana

11:55 PM  

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