I wonder how many of you know or remember the Harvey Comics character CASPER – The friendly ghost? Well, a few weeks ago, I was reminded of him.
A few weeks ago I was returning home when I got a call urging me to hurry up as a strange white smoke was coming out of a bathroom. The bathroom window was boarded up as was the front of the building since our building was being renovated.
The other windows of the room were sealed tight. We checked the electric connections for any short circuits. Everything was just fine.
Within minutes the smoke disappeared leaving behind the smell of wet earth and six very confused people.
Where did the mystery smoke come from?
And was it smoke at all?
What could it be we wondered? It wasn’t wet. It was white. It smelled of wet earth but it hadn’t rained.
This happened the next day too. In the afternoon a little after lunch. This time we were all sitting around after lunch.
Again the maid came out of the room in panic. We tried to stay calm as we rushed to the room. The smoke came out of the bathroom and disappeared as mysteriously as it came. Once again, it left behind the smell of wet earth. Petrichor.
Once again we called the electrician. Another more ‘competent’ one we thought. This time we asked him to change the circuit breaker. One that would automatically kick-in in the individual rooms.
The next day, Hubby Dear’s aunt upstairs who was ailing quietly passed on.
At the best of times, I am doubtful about Dry-cleaning my clothes. Ever so often, when I go to the cleaners and show them a stain, they examine it carefully and tell me that they can’t assure me that it will really vanish.
Similarly, when I ask them if the colour will fade or if the gold zari work will tarnish, they again refuse to give any guarantees. So gthen, I ask them, how do I really know whether you have actually cleaned or attempted to clean the garment? How do I know that it is not just refreshed with some fragrance and ironed?
‘Well, madam, I’m told, ‘in that case you had better clean it yourself!’
While I’m a strong believer in keeping things well and looking after my clothes, I also feel that nothing ventured, nothing gained. After all, cleaning materials have changed from the harsh detergents of yore. Advanced cleaning solutions at least promise a cleaner and safer wash if used correctly. Some things need to be preserved for generations, like the hand-woven saris that are slowly becoming extinct. But others can be experimented with.
Anyways, this is not about dry cleaning clothes but dry-cleaning my hair. Now I don’t wear a wig. I’m talking about my real hair on my head.
post cataract care
Recuperating from a cataract surgery, I realised that the post-operative care is more tedious than the actual procedure, which, thanks to my very competent doctor, took all of eight minutes.
So while I could deal with the drops at regular intervals, wearing protective eye glasses, taping up the operated eye at night with an ‘eye cage’, sleeping on my back (very difficult indeed), not bending, no cooking (my favourite restriction), no lifting or bending ( a bit difficult but manageable), no mobile or screen time for three days ( MAJOR self control and withdrawl symptoms), staying at home for a minimum of three days post surgery ( B O R I N G ), minimising pulling clothes over your head ( a huge fashion headache), bathing only below the neck, no brisk walking or heavy weight lifting, what really got to me was NOT washing my hair for at least ten days.
For someone who washed hair frequently, this is as bad as telling an alcoholic that he can’t have a drink.
After much soul searching, asking friends who’d had their cataract surgeries how they’d coped and asking Dr. Google for more free advice, I finally hit upon a solution: wipe down my hair with WET WIPES. If wet wipes are good enough for tender bottoms, they are definitely good for my hair. The main reason for not washing hair was to prevent water and toxic/irritating chemicals from entering the eyes.
So this morning, I took out some wet wipes and rubbed them through my hair, especially the scalp which was decidedly happy to feel some moisture other than sweat.
So, ladies and gentlemen, that is my hack to dealing with no hair wash – dry clean with wet wipes .
I never knew how poor my vision was until last week. I literally began the new month with a new outlook on life. This was thanks to my cataract surgery that removed the shield that was blocking my lens, and I got a new one that enabled me to see the world in a new light.
It all began with a fall from a kerb in the middle of January. Of course, the pavement was a foot high ( in the wisdom of our urban planners), the road was dimly lit because the few and far between street lights were hidden in the lush greenery and of course , what I didn’t know then, my poor balance thanks to the cataract.
So I went to the optician’s to get a new pair of glasses. After n just couldn’t get the focal length right and asked me to check with an ophthalmologist. And that led to the discovery of not just one eye but TWO with a cataract. Even though there was no emergency, the ophthalmologist suggested I get them both done as early as possible. Hence I had my first eye done on Saturday last and the second one just yesterday.
Even the smallest cut can throw one’s life out of gear, and two consecutive surgeries meant at least two weeks off. But off from what? From housework, from cooking, from exercise, from socialising.
It turned out to be quite a misconception.
Cataract surgeries today are routine- almost as common as the flu. I remember when my father had his first cataract surgery; it was almost like an event. Since my brother was away, my mother insisted that I be around. I took two days off from my own household and toodled off to Pune. In those days, Medical insurance was only applicable to surgeries that involved an overnight hospital stay, so my dad was admitted the day before. He came out of the operating theatre looking like a pirate with a huge white bandage covering his eye. For the next few days, my mum had to peel back the dressing and put eye drops at regular intervals. A few days later the dressing was replaced by a pair of decidedly unflattering dark glasses. At night, he had to tape a plastic cup over the eye so that he didn’t accidentally touch the eye. This went on for forty days. During this time, he was also pretty much housebound. His movements at home were restricted too – no bending, no going near the fire. Television watching was restricted. All in all, it was a surgery that I hoped I would never have to undergo.
My father-in-law’s surgery a decade later was slightly better. This time round, he didn’t need an overnight hospital stay to qualify for medical insurance. The lens he was fitted with was soft but for the rest of his life, I could see a glint of something shining in his eye.
Fast Forward To Today
My initial visit to Dr. Deepak Garg’s Eye Solutions was unplanned. a no-fuss, routine eye check-up, a slight deviation from my daily walking route. I had stepped in for an optometrist’s consultation, and when she found that I had a cataract, she called in the doctor for a look. He was horrified by the size of the cataract and showed me a pretty picture on the monitor. He immediately called up Anna Shetty and suggested an early solution.
So last Saturday, I went on table for the first operation. I had some pre-op protocols to follow but once on the table, it was done in under ten minutes! The local anesthesia was literally dropped into my eye – no need for any poking or prodding. While both my eyes were covered, I was asked to keep them open and focus on the overhead light. Three, bright shining lights were washed over with a saline drip from time to time. It was like watching through a kaleidoscope. The balls morphed into clouds and fat, white worms dancing in the psychedelic strobe lights that changed from bursts of red, purple, blue, green and yellow. And suddenly all went still as the sharp, bright white lights came into focus. It was done.
Instead of a white eye patch, I was given slick, transparent protective glasses and offered a cup of tea while I changed out of my autoclaved garb and into my streetwear. Since Anna Shetty was accompanying me, I picked up the medication and post-operative care instructions, waited for Prima Donna to pay the bill and went home with a clear eye.
Small steps to Confidence
I didn’t realise this, but before my surgery, I was slowly losing my confidence on the road. There were times when I didn’t realise that someone was so close to me. There were times when I felt wobbly while getting off the kerb. I was avoiding driving at night. I was hesitant to use staircases without railings. I used to squint and frown while reading and had started asking other people to read messages on my phone.
Thanks to my new perfect vision, I can now reclaim my life.
Twenty- five Seven 