Fulcrum!

It was the yearly team outing and I went so enthusiastically for it like last time. Getting to know so many people, young and old and their rarer side that seldom shows in office, makes it a worthy one. The resort was the same as last year and we all went in different cars. Once again, we missed the landmark and this time it was due to a huge container [No! Not the one that comes to your mind now, if you are from Tamilnadu], painted in white that covered the relatively tiny entrance and the name board. We went about a mile or so, backtracked and finally found the location just there and not anywhere else. The GPS in the phones were busy recalculating even after we reached and that showed that there was a man behind it.

Starting with indoor games, we quickly moved outside and played cricket in a cement strip. I did all warm-up and stretches that I remembered, but forgot when was the last time I did them. Cheering others, I saw the ball that came to me and disobeying my hands it went for four. A shade redder, I bowled, but as you know, I aimed at one side and the ball went to the other, and I was proud to complete an over at last. I went to the boundary line and was lost in the fine smell of the pakoras being made for us, when that ball came to me. It was at a catchable height and all it needed was to jump a bit as it was going above my height. I did that and the next moment, something happened. There were a couple of guys nearby who had arrested my fall, but the ball went beyond me and I heard something milder, beyond their voices. Something broke or terribly twisted below my left knee and I did not feel that leg at all, though it was fully on the ground. Alarmed, yet braving it off, I moved off, with a grin [or grimace] to sit town. And I felt like a thousand needles piercing my calf muscle at first and a sheer pain following that, with every step that I took. Resting a bit, I touched and pressed hard where it hurt and soon, the pain seemed to subside. Knowing that I had an injury, I rested, ate the pakoras and went back, after 30 minutes, leaving others. It was a Friday night and I did go to my family doctor, who has a tired smile always. He frowned after feeling my leg and said that it was most likely a tendon injury.

"A what?", I asked and requested him to give me pain killers as I had a short trip out of station that day. "Its better you don't go!", he said and wrote a request to an orthopedic friend to have a look. With my worried spouse and the super excited [because of the trip ahead] kid, the tired self went there, to see it locked. No luck in two other places and finally, we found one clinic. Our raising hope was crushed as bubbling hot milk upon sprinkling water, to see 50 others waiting before us. "Is there an emergency room?", I asked defiantly. "This is!", said an old man with a bandaged arm. We went back and I took a decision to take that trip, for two reasons, namely, to prove myself to me first and because of my kid. My wife didn't like it, but I told her that I can manage. We went there and it started feeling worse upon climbing steps. Finally, we saw an orthopedic doctor who is genial and unusually jovial for a surgeon. He listened to my story and asked, "Why do you play cricket all of a sudden?", and then started explaining what happened with the interest of a professor. "You remember the load and fulcrum principle? You must have read that in your ninth standard or so! Quite simple actually!", he said. I did not tell him that I am a physics UG, and felt shy for not remembering that too. "You see? What happens when a very large weight acts upon a small body! Your whole body weight was on that tendon that usually is not designed to bear that weight, you see?" So, the fulcrum buckled and the scale broke! Your Achilles tendon is torn!", he finished in full zeal. "How do you walk now?", he asked. "Like this!", I walked, keeping an even face. Flabbergasted, he asked me whether I have a very high tolerance for pain. I was confused and said, "I don't know sir!". There it all started.

Two and a half months have now elapsed, giving me an experience of being operated, seeing my leg dressed in a synthetic cast that gained weight every minute [unlike me, who did so, on a monthly basis] and hopping and making it more of an ordeal every time, being unstable, using a wheel chair and liking it for its comfort and the freedom of being independent and more. In fact after several visits, hoping that the surgeon will suggest me to walk a bit and remove the cast anytime, I still have this supporting friend now, but had a lot of time to introspect, upon pain, people and above all this funniest thing called life. One of my childhood wishes was to have a fracture, so I can bunk school for long. Never did I realize that it would be granted this late.

I need to mention all the support and help from one of the elder friends in IL who prefers not to be mentioned as well. The surgeon seemed to read my mind in the last occasion, saying "You feel like kicking yourself for coming to a doctor and might have carried on with this, like some do! Unfortunate, I will say!" and smiled. Life is still more beautiful as I come to understand the small things that bring more value, but go unnoticed. I did see some people being the fulcrum, holding me all along.

Its time I bow to them and try being the fulcrum once!

 

Thanks Vaidehi, for your kind words. I realized again that we don't appreciate what we have, till we lose it, even temporarily.
Hopefully, I should walk about in a month or so. -rgs

 

Thanks Periamma for your support. -rgs