Gratitude towards the nameless people
Often in our lives, we come across people just for a few moments, but their kindness leaves a lasting impression. Invariably the faces become fuzzy after a while, but you can never forget their touching acts.
I often ponder about these people whom I have crossed paths with. My heart wells in gratitude when I think of them. Ofcourse there are the other people, the really close ones in your life, to whom you atleast get the opportunity to express your gratitude. But what I am talking about is different. The only way to thank these nameless, faceless people is through the silent expression in my heart.
Most of my memories are associated with hospitals. Hospital is a place where you feel very vulnerable. You place explicit trust in the team working around you - the nurses, the attendants and the doctors. Every little thing they do, matters so much.
It was my first delivery. It was a normal Indian hospital, where the family members were not allowed to be with me after a particular point. I had been through more than 12 hours of contractions, which were gradually increasing in intensity. I was in a small room, with a sour looking nurse, who was in no way giving me any reassurances. It was a lonely battle. I was weak, tired and close to tears. For a few minutes the sour faced nurse went away and came an attendant. She held my hand and said " It is okay, you can squeeze my hands whenever you are in pain" and she gently stroked my forehead. For the next half an hour, she was soothing me with her words and I felt so good to have a sympathetic human around me. So she and my son, who was born hours later, are the best impressions of my first pregnancy.
Few years down the line. It was again a hospital environment. I was wheeled into the OT for a surgey.The cold sterile environment of the OT, the buzzing of the assorted machines around me sent shivers down my spine. I was trying to be very brave. They made me sit up to administer the anaesthesia. Each prick was very painful and I was crushing the steel OT table. There was a male attender standing next to me and I felt very conscious about holding his hand. Tears were beginning to well up in my eyes.(I normally do not crib, scream or complain about physical pain. I do have a high threshold. But sometimes it is not just the physical pain, but a fear of all that is to come.) I think he understood my situation very well and said kindly "You can hold my arm if you want". I just latched on to the words of kindness and kept crushing his arm, each time I was injected. Just sharing the pain with another human, seemed to make it more bearable. Ofcourse I went blank after that and could not recall his face never again.
In the context of hospitals, I must say that Malayali nurses are the BEST. They have a beautiful smile and are always ready to offer you words of comfort and cheer. Which is exactly what you need when you are feeling low.
So today was one such day, when their memories came alive and I felt the need to share it here on the blog.