She sat in front of the good Doctor, unable to avoid the monitor. He continued to speak , keenly flipping the images of the CT scan on his computer screen.
She looked at the images and immediately felt the bile rise up. The prep she drank for contrast CT seemed to have overpowering effect on not just her olfactory senses and taste buds but even a visual stimuli of scan was enough to gag her.
It took a while to process the doctor’s speech. She was being taken off the medicines , those toxic pills she had popped into her mouth every single day past few years post nauseating sessions.
It’s funny how she always visualized miracles, straight out of fairy tales or right out of hindu mythology stories. It was all very dramatic, with pictures of fairy Godmother swishing wands over pumpkin patches turning everything and everyone beautiful.
Other times as a ludicrous unreal feeling of being showered with gold dust and rose petals from one of many Hindu Gods she conveniently invoked depending on the category of panic ! Like she invoked Lord Hanuman , the monkey God of valour when she was asked to hold her breath first time under the scan. If she had known the cost of her health care , she would have gladly given a shout out to SriLakshmi, goddess of wealth too.
Well , here she was, hardly an epitome of magical beauty from any angle. Twenty kilos heavier and bones brittled by steroids. Immune system suppressed more than any autocratic regime has ever suppressed. Absolutey no sign of rose petal showers but spate of hospital visits, aim in the dark medicinal dosage weighed under uncertainty both financial and physical. To the first Human who coined the phrase Health is Wealth, Eureka!
As far as visualization of miracles go , she had got it completely wrong. Yet here she was sitting in spartan hospital hearing the words and it was, undeniably, a Miracle.
Her All Clear report was a miracle , and modern medicines were responsible . Not much of an authority on God’s ways , she had definitely seen modern medical science work in mysterious ways, not everyone is the chosen one. Boy, she felt as lucky as the princess who gets the kiss of life.
Always a fan of happy endings , she felt a sense of reprieve. Good God it was hard to spin a tale of happy ending to her own story when twist to tale was fatal. One day when the battle gets too prolonged, she may discover comic relief in mortality, albeit for now she was free to explore the magical life.