It’s awful. Experienced such helplessnes after ages. A disjointed ankle, a fracture as an add on and I seriously am someone I don’t know.
A number on a hospital bed. A patient, just another patient, who can’t walk without Vinita Godbole’s help.
She couldn’t be bothered about my views on world peace or whether I hold a phd degree.
It’s actually important that you get this reality check sometimes.
You get a dose of pure primal physical pain that you cannot get philosophical about.
You sleep when the nurse decides you must and no she does not even notice your protests
You sit on a wheel chair in a pink checked hospital gown and patiently wait for the x ray technician to finish flirting with the receptionsit
You actually listen to your mom when she gives you instructions like you were aged 7
You just love your friends who rally around and really try to make the pain go away
You feel the genuine warmth of people on a sms or email and realize that little gestures are actually not little at all
You also figure out that you did waste some time on people who don’t care
You appreciate everything anyone does for you because every little word or gesture matters so much when you’re not in control
And you really wonder why the term “break a leg” can mean anything good to your theatre pals