Friday, May 30, 2008

The worst of times...

Its part of growing old perhaps, but it hurts all the same. Some aches that you thought had healed, and some totally new ones as well.

The smells of the hospital, the useless running around, the incompetent nurses, the extorsion racket in the medicines, the confusion and fear. And then after all that.. what? The stroke remains and there's still no magic wand for schizophrenia.

I'm tired today. Perhaps if it wasn't for my lifeline of friends, I would have been tired much earlier. My reserves are all used up doing the sort of things I"m no good at.

And of course the colosal calamity is that I don't have a brother or a husband. Yes, thanks society for reminding me of that once again.


Niranjan said...

Cannot do much, except accept the situation and face it and fight it, with all the resources at your disposal.

Hope things are better at your end now.

raindrops said...

Not necessarily a husband or a brother, but a partner needs to be around in such times. He/She cannot be a partner only for the fun times.
That said, you are more than a sum of a thousand partners. You have survived, with more strength and grit than perhaps you credit yourself for. And you will, irrespective of whether you have a helping hand around.

Tess said...

@Niranjan - yes, face it , fight it, grin and bearit.. Thanks.

@Raindrops - if the zillion ppl at the hospital were anything to go by, a brother is what was needed. And yes I did survive, and I do give myself credit for it. Even if society around me makes me feel worthless simply because of my gender. I look around me and I know I'm much much better than a good few "sons" I know. I'm sure the son aspiring fuckers deserver just those worthless sons.