Thank God It's Saturday

Most people thank God it’s Friday but for me, I’m glad it’s Saturday. Last week during a meeting with the ladies of St.Judes ( a charity that offers free accommodation for outstation kids undergoing Cancer treatment ) with which I’m associated, we were supposed to record our experiences with the organisation and share our reasons for joining. I’ve been actively involved with this group of volunteers over the past nine years but during this last year a few of us have been a bit quiet. As M said, it’s not because our commitment has wavered but it’s just that now our own lives seem to demand more of our time for, as she said “we all have our own dramas.”

This Friday I had an amazing drama , one that I’m still dealing with.
Ever since little P has sprouted wings, we’ve had to employ someone to keep an eye on him , someone who’d be able to keep up with his sudden leaps into the unknown, to follow him under the bed and who can help him up the slide, kick the football etc etc. So we got B, a young girl from the farm who was strongly recommended by Kadam , our farm manager.
B has been with us for over two months now and had shown remarkable poise and maturity for someone who hadn’t stepped out of her village. Nothing seemed to faze her : the lift, the living in a Mumbai high rise, eating a burger, answering the telephone. Looking at her one could hardly imagine that she’d suffer a panic attack or an episode of hysteria.
B, little P and I had spent a lovely morning in the garden where she heled him pick up dead leaves and count the trucks that went by. We all had lunch and after he’d settled down for his siesta I stepped out to do some errands. Just as I’d finished one job, the driver tells me he’d received a call from home telling him to call Hubby Dear to arrange for B to go home post haste because she was acting strange. I immediately called littl Ps father and asked him to give his medical onion while I rushed home. 
When I came  home , I found B lying down weeping hysterically, hyper ventilating and throwing back her head. I was advised to take her to the hospital which I did with Bayda’s help.
At the hospital I was waiting for the doctor to take a look at her when a random nurse asked me if I was Mary. Seeing my shock she asked if I was Seema and when I told her who I was she stuck out her tongue in embarrassment for having mistaken me for Dr. G’s house help!
Then while I was registering B as a patient I get a phone call from home asking if there was a thermometer still stuck in B’s arm pit! Here I was trying to conserve the dying battery of my phone!
When B was admitted and was making my way home when the hospital staff informed me that patients can’t be left unattended because they could run away so either Bayda or I had to stay back! Now I’ve been hospitalised several times and have never had anyone stay the night and could understand Bayda’s indignation at being asked to stay the night in a hospital. Isn’t that the reason we hospitalise people in the first place- so that they get better care?
I somehow managed to get permission to leave  B alone and am now waiting for the  doctor to finish his round and sign off her release and take he home.
Than God It’s Saturday!


A granny who always sees the humour in life and tries to do things differently. When others make cupcakes, this granny makes banana fritters. When she’s not busy chasing her grandchildren who love making her run around, she indulges in her passions of reading, writing, meeting friends and watching movies. And somewhere between all this she enjoys travelling and cooking!

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