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Stitches Removed

Interceptor 650 towed to service station after an accident
My Interceptor 650

Another ambulance ride to the hospital and back home. People from Orane came to help. I was worried about getting hurt while being carried on a stretcher. I consider myself lucky.

The doctor suggested retaining the dressing for 5 days before starting to use water. So, maybe my first bath after August 9th is due next Tuesday.


The doctor hopes for my healing without grafting. The healing in the next thirty days should be good, and the X-ray should show marked healing of my right femur bone.

I'm not able to meditate, but I'm conscious of my body at all times and the pain. In a way, I'm in a present state of mind. Isn't this the first stage of meditation?


Lying straight on the bed, with minor tactical shifts to either side, is tough on my back. Lying on the rented medical bed – the one that allows lifting from one side to be in an upright position – I stare at the walls with cupboards all brown. I can see patches of dry dust sticking to the cupboard from my past home cleaning drives on weekends. I will be cleaning them when I'm back on my feet.


Thoughts of work during working hours, along with some calls with the team, help me feel better. I'm trying to contribute more from the content side, as it is something manageable using my smartphone.


My diet is more nutritious now than ever before, with fruits and proteins for breakfast, followed by a fruit salad before lunch. Lunch consists of simple, light, and vegetarian food. A light snack with a few sips of tea comes before another round of fruits before dinner. A glass of turmeric milk after two chapatis in dinner completes my endeavor with food.


I wonder why I have no memories of falling off the bike. The bike hardly has any damage. But I might have skidded towards the left, hurting my left shoulder and head on the side of the road. The cracked left side of my helmet proves that it saved me. For the first week or so, I had flashes of memory with something dark moving across my eyes, but those memories are all gone now.


I have also given up on the attempt to recall what happened at the time of the accident. Instead, I am recalling the thoughts, my statements, and intuitions retrospectively to understand the messages my spirit guides were sending me on the day of the accident. "Monica should be informed about our mediclaim policy" is one of the thoughts. Another is about giving up biking, which came up in an interaction with office colleagues during the day. I even offered to sell my bike the same morning. Three hours before the accident, I quoted Rs 2.3 lakhs to a prospective buyer.


Despite all of this, I was like sweets, sweet but in no control to reach the moment that became the most severe accident ever in my life.

In the next month, I'm likely to surprise the doctor with the quality of my recovery and potentially skip the follow-up surgery. Then, maybe I can gradually return to my daily routine in the following 30 days.


The drag feature of the iPhone keyboard makes it easy for me to write this post. I'm grateful to my friends who came to lift me from bed, shift me to another bed, and be by my side with motivating words to downplay the severity of the injury and help me cheer up.


The best advice came from Monica, "You're not quitting biking. What happened could have occurred even while driving a car. Pick up your phone, start working, and inform the ones you haven't told about your injury."


My dad is attending to me like a toddler – feeding me with his hands and assisting with nature calls. My mom is busy in the kitchen cooking my meals. My elder daughter calls daily to check on my condition, while the younger one cracks jokes to lighten my mood. Monica is managing my medicines, coordinating with the doctor, and purchasing loose shirts, bed sheets, fruits, and groceries for me to use. She also has her job during the day.


Lying on the bed, away from daylight for two weeks now, I can see how busy everyone is. This is unlike me before when I thought I was the busiest. Lessons are learned the hard way.


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