Hello world...
Apologies for the long silence over here at Angel's pad. As the title hints (ahem) the past few weeks have been one big suckfest. And I can't even blog about most of the things that happened. Sigh. I warn my gentle readers... this is NOT going to be a very happy post...
At least today I came home at a decent hour after submitting the newsletter (1 week late - what's the point of a March newsletter that comes out in mid-April?) but thankfully didn't have to take any more flak than was my due. Tomorrow may be another story as I'm having a lecture in the morning (eeek, have prepared nothing!) and then MedEx duty... with an estimated crowd of close to 20,000! Feet, please forgive me... pedicure and foot massage, soon... I promise!
Last week is hazy... what happened? I remember being yelled at. Oh yeah, I've f**ked up big time and lost a load of invoices from our last workshop. Worth about 15,000/- .... which I will probably have to fork out of my own (meagre) pocket. Last week was spent running around like my tail was on fire going damn! damn!! damn!!! while I went through every single bloody file in the office... TWICE!!! The annoying thing is that I remember thinking, "Girl, if you lose this, you're in deep shit" after I had pasted, labled and stamped the invoices with the Director's seal. So anyway, I gathered up my courage and told the big guy... and his response was more or less, Angel, it's your baby... deal with it" Sigh... If I find the congenitally syphylitic cretin who stole my file I swear I'll chop him up into little pieces and feed him to the snakes in the herpetarium.
The week before that was slightly better with only the SLMA sessions on the calendar. Of course these HAD to be scheduled for the 20th, 21st and 22nd... the LONG WEEKEND! AAArrrrrghh! For once, Darling was off-work on a public holiday but I had to be stuck at frickkin' sessions. In saree. Dealing with irate (and scary) judges, annoyed participants and a hotel management that charged the earth for a couple of photocopies. The food sucked too... and since I repeatedly lost the tiny little chitty with "tea" and an ugly picture of a teacup on it, I had to go without the said tea several times, in spite of the large red tag saying "staff" that was around my neck like a noose.
The worst part was that I missed almost all the sessions I wanted to attend, including the ones on Parkinson's disease, Wilson disease and a symposium on patient safety. This was because some judging session or the other was ongoing and the powers that be wanted the marks entered, tables added up and classified immediately! Unlike Darwin I find powerpoints on topics with long names quite interesting... and these were some top notch international researchers and clinicians. Sigh...
The week before that, my pet died. My first and only pet, unless you count the 2 goldfish I briefly owned when I was 8. Chuti was an abandoned baby squirrel that I rescued and fed on milk for 6 weeks. The fellow was on the cold hard tiles of Brother's room and was found by self while sweeping... and immediately tipped into a shoebox when discovered to be alive. I didn't realise how attached I was to him... feeding him with carefully prepared milk, first thing in the morning... every two hours... last thing at night. He'd run around the box, squeaking with joy when I brought the milk and would follow me in little leaps and bounds around the room or in the garden. The horrible thing is that I think I killed him. He was off his food for a couple of days so I used the feeding tube given by the vet to alternatively give him saline, dextrose and milk. I think the milk went in too fast, because he asphyxiated... he gasped for breath on my palm while we rushed him to the vet and then writhed in terrible pain and died. I've watched people gasp like that... I've seen babies with birth asphyxia... but at least then I could do something other than watch helplessly while waves of guilt crashed over me. Chuti deserves a post of his own... so now you know what the next one will be.
The same week was the quality asurance programme in our faculty. This is a process that takes place once a year in every medical faculty in SL to ensure the curriculum is upto par. Reviewers from the UGC and other faculties spend about a week going through papers and books and files and getting all worked up if something was missing. I was somehow convinced to be a "coordinator" and I had to take an incredible amount of flak for things I wasn't responsible for. I had to dive into mountains of never-before-seen files and come up with specific documents, I had to call up departments for lists of this and that, I'd get defensive when things were criticized, then criticized for getting defensive. There were others who ran around with me... but I for my sins, was the one to get yelled at. Honestly, those reviewers were really rude sometimes, though honey-sweet when the senior staff were around. I have to totally thank my workmate M for covering for me when I had to go off taking Chuti to the vet. But they somehow found about him and made fun of that too... the sickos.
This is just a taste of what the past few days/weeks have been like. The days were occasionally punctuated by visits to blogosphere. I find Half-Doc, my articulate colleague has been compelled to delete his blog for merely stating his thoughts about a drunken party. E-mail has piled up since the connection is mind numbingly slow at office. I suspect it's because some nerds at the CAL lab are downloading flicks.
Anyway I feel too drained to type anymore. Adios, amigos. To Dinesh, Justin, Azrael, Priyanga and the many others who expressed help and support to Samitha, I profusely apologise for the delay in communication and will be in touch as soon as possible.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
An update : Samitha Samanmali
Samitha is now in a ward at the accident service of the NHSL. She lies on the bed, her lower body motionless, and gazes out of the window. Blue skies with fluffy clouds. Mara trees bedecked with red and yellow flowers. Crows wheeling across her field of vision.
Friends hover around her, trying to anticipate and meet every need. Major trauma, major surgery and major change of life... in the face of these, Samitha remains cheerful. Tutes are brought to her bedside and she courageously turns pages and refers notes, determined not to fall behind.
What now? The next step is a wheelchair. At present, Samitha can only be "propped up" i.e. kept semi recumbent with the aid of pillows. The injury is at the 5th thoracic spinal level, which means she has poor control over the muscles of her trunk (these are antigravity muscles that help us keep upright). Obviously, a generic wheelchair, purchased from Union Chemists for instance, will be useless. She needs a special, custom-made wheelchair that will help support her comfortably. An electric wheelchair will be ideal as she will then have a degree of independence. Overseas rehabilitation is needed next. There are a couple of wonderful units in Singapore and the UK that offer facilities far far beyond what is available in SL.
Many thanks to all who contributed and continue to contribute to her rehabilitation fund. As yet, only a fraction of the funds needed have been raised, but I feel fairly confident that we may be able to collect the required sum. Things are yet to be streamlined. Arrangements are being made to get her cause registered as a charity. Not only will that give an added incentive for the corporate sector to donate (tax relief!) it will also allow the funds to be handled in the best possible way.
Many friends and well wishers from abroad have contacted us. They're not financial giants... many are students who work part time to pay for their own university education. yet they all want to donate something and this is where we hit a snag. What's the best way. Wire transfer is horribly expensive and not practical for small sums. Cheques run the risk of processing problems when issued by a bank overseas. Someone suggested a demand draft from the bank, but I wonder if this requires a minimum sum. Another friend suggested a paypal account.
Dinesh has kindly offered to develop a website for her cause. Untill he mentioned it, I hadn't realised that there was no official information available online. Maybe the paypal account can be linked to this website. Does anyone know how that works?
Once more, thanks to all for your good wishes and contributions. Will continue with the updates.
Friends hover around her, trying to anticipate and meet every need. Major trauma, major surgery and major change of life... in the face of these, Samitha remains cheerful. Tutes are brought to her bedside and she courageously turns pages and refers notes, determined not to fall behind.
What now? The next step is a wheelchair. At present, Samitha can only be "propped up" i.e. kept semi recumbent with the aid of pillows. The injury is at the 5th thoracic spinal level, which means she has poor control over the muscles of her trunk (these are antigravity muscles that help us keep upright). Obviously, a generic wheelchair, purchased from Union Chemists for instance, will be useless. She needs a special, custom-made wheelchair that will help support her comfortably. An electric wheelchair will be ideal as she will then have a degree of independence. Overseas rehabilitation is needed next. There are a couple of wonderful units in Singapore and the UK that offer facilities far far beyond what is available in SL.
Many thanks to all who contributed and continue to contribute to her rehabilitation fund. As yet, only a fraction of the funds needed have been raised, but I feel fairly confident that we may be able to collect the required sum. Things are yet to be streamlined. Arrangements are being made to get her cause registered as a charity. Not only will that give an added incentive for the corporate sector to donate (tax relief!) it will also allow the funds to be handled in the best possible way.
Many friends and well wishers from abroad have contacted us. They're not financial giants... many are students who work part time to pay for their own university education. yet they all want to donate something and this is where we hit a snag. What's the best way. Wire transfer is horribly expensive and not practical for small sums. Cheques run the risk of processing problems when issued by a bank overseas. Someone suggested a demand draft from the bank, but I wonder if this requires a minimum sum. Another friend suggested a paypal account.
Dinesh has kindly offered to develop a website for her cause. Untill he mentioned it, I hadn't realised that there was no official information available online. Maybe the paypal account can be linked to this website. Does anyone know how that works?
Once more, thanks to all for your good wishes and contributions. Will continue with the updates.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Please help...
The mood is gloomy around campus these days. Samitha, a third year medical student was injured about ten days ago as she accompanied her batch on a site visit to the BMICH. This was in order to scope out the place for the up-coming (and now postponed) medical exhibition. The Deyata Kirula stalls were still there and a sudden downpour forced them to seek shelter under the sheds.
Horrifyingly, one of the sheds collapsed on a group of students... two managed to make it out... two, including Samitha were trapped beneath the rubble. The other student escaped with minor injuries, Samitha however was not so lucky. Another student described how a metal support pole hit her head, and as she fell, how another pole landed on her back... She sustained severe injuries, skull fractures, bleeding in her chest cavity (haemothorax) and tragically, a spinal cord injury at midchest level. X-rays and MRI scans showed shattered spinal vertebrae... a grim sign of what spinal surgery would later reveal.
Samitha underwent a 20 hour surgery last Tuesday, to stabilise the spinal column. Apparently, the surgeons had discovered that the spinal cord wasn't completely cut, as feared... but was however severely crushed. The implications? Well... the worst is that there is very little chance that Samitha will regain the ability to walk.
Right now, she's in the NSICU, battling the stress effects of her injury as well as the surgery. Batchmates and other friends are keeping vigil at the accident service, combing the internet, phoning contacts and trying to find out any possible treatment method that may offer some hope. There is talk of stem cell therapy, that maybe they may differentiate into nervecells and bridge the gap. There are other treatments, mostly experimental that slow the rate of fibrous tissue formation, leaving room for whatever nerves that have survived to recover.
None of these are available in Sri Lanka. Few have shown scientifically sound, proven results... but any glimmer of hope is worth striving for. Unless a miracle happens (and believe me, there are hundreds of us in temples and churches holding bodhi pooja and other religeous services, silently offering up prayers to whatever diety we believe in that such a miracle will happen) she will need complete and long term support, physically, psychologically and socially... with proper rehabilitation to help her adjust to the consequences of her injury.
Money is scarce. Her father unfortunately passed away when she was young and her mother too is ill and has just had major surgery. Her sister, a teacher, has been supporting the family. The estimated cost for Samitha's treatment and rehabilitation is between 10 - 15 million rupees. :(
I don't know Samitha very well. I've seen her in campus, talking to friends, clutching books while running to one lecture or the other... full of hopes and dreams. Her friends describe her as being fun loving and hard working. that she faced the many hardships life threw at her with courage and determination. After days of tears, she seems to have found her inner strength again.... as she told a friend, "I am ready to face anything". She smiles up at those who visit her... and lives in hope that she will have a chance to regain at least part of her former independence.
The Sunday Times ran an article about her yesterday. More details can be provided on request. If you, or anyone you know would like to help, please call Aravinda Kamaladasa on 0773-017183 or contribute to the student rehabilitation fund started by the faculty.
Thank you.
Horrifyingly, one of the sheds collapsed on a group of students... two managed to make it out... two, including Samitha were trapped beneath the rubble. The other student escaped with minor injuries, Samitha however was not so lucky. Another student described how a metal support pole hit her head, and as she fell, how another pole landed on her back... She sustained severe injuries, skull fractures, bleeding in her chest cavity (haemothorax) and tragically, a spinal cord injury at midchest level. X-rays and MRI scans showed shattered spinal vertebrae... a grim sign of what spinal surgery would later reveal.
Samitha underwent a 20 hour surgery last Tuesday, to stabilise the spinal column. Apparently, the surgeons had discovered that the spinal cord wasn't completely cut, as feared... but was however severely crushed. The implications? Well... the worst is that there is very little chance that Samitha will regain the ability to walk.
Right now, she's in the NSICU, battling the stress effects of her injury as well as the surgery. Batchmates and other friends are keeping vigil at the accident service, combing the internet, phoning contacts and trying to find out any possible treatment method that may offer some hope. There is talk of stem cell therapy, that maybe they may differentiate into nervecells and bridge the gap. There are other treatments, mostly experimental that slow the rate of fibrous tissue formation, leaving room for whatever nerves that have survived to recover.
None of these are available in Sri Lanka. Few have shown scientifically sound, proven results... but any glimmer of hope is worth striving for. Unless a miracle happens (and believe me, there are hundreds of us in temples and churches holding bodhi pooja and other religeous services, silently offering up prayers to whatever diety we believe in that such a miracle will happen) she will need complete and long term support, physically, psychologically and socially... with proper rehabilitation to help her adjust to the consequences of her injury.
Money is scarce. Her father unfortunately passed away when she was young and her mother too is ill and has just had major surgery. Her sister, a teacher, has been supporting the family. The estimated cost for Samitha's treatment and rehabilitation is between 10 - 15 million rupees. :(
I don't know Samitha very well. I've seen her in campus, talking to friends, clutching books while running to one lecture or the other... full of hopes and dreams. Her friends describe her as being fun loving and hard working. that she faced the many hardships life threw at her with courage and determination. After days of tears, she seems to have found her inner strength again.... as she told a friend, "I am ready to face anything". She smiles up at those who visit her... and lives in hope that she will have a chance to regain at least part of her former independence.
The Sunday Times ran an article about her yesterday. More details can be provided on request. If you, or anyone you know would like to help, please call Aravinda Kamaladasa on 0773-017183 or contribute to the student rehabilitation fund started by the faculty.
Thank you.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
In sickness and in health...
Darling was in hospital last week, and with pneumonia, no less. last wednesday, he stayed at home because he had "body aches" and only mumbled when I called from work. When I did get home, he was huddleed up in bed, burning to touch... thermometer was whipped out and showed a temperature of 103C!! Promptly checked pulse (126/min), BP (on the low side) and lungs (noisy) and then called the Asiri mobile to do some blood tests and an ECG (? myocarditis). Darling mumbles that he has coughed up blood stained phlegm twice that day. Antibiotics are given, more paracetamol and eau-de-cologne poured on to try and bring the fever down. Darling continues to doze... I keep worrying.
Two hours later the white cell count is reported as 35,000 with a neutrophil leukocytosis. Trying very hard not to freak out, I cradle his head as Mums and Dads drive us to hospital. Darling doesn't remember much of that night as he'd conk out every few minutes. Admission goes smoothly... thankfully almost every doctor in the casualty ward has been taught by Mums... some are also seniors who were in campus with me. Antibiotics are pushed in and Darling goes to sleep, the fever broken.
I spent the entire night next to him, obsessively checking the pulse and peripheries. At 4 am a nurse takes pity on me and offers me a chair. I sit next to the bed and lean my head on the mattress... but can't sleep. Every few minutes my fingers seek the reassuring little pulse at his wrist.
3 days in hospital... thankfully people are very understanding at office. I run around from lab, to ward, to x-ray room and back. Quick dash to P&S to get Darling a sugar doughnut. Stopover at Dee's office nearby so I can unload my woes on her shoulder (thanks Dee!) I'm not allowed to spend the night in a male ward so I sleep in casualty room nearby... I can be at the ward in 5 minutes flat if needed.
Darling responds magnificiently to IV antibiotics. By day 2 he's rearing to go home and is soon discharged on strict bed-rest. He's restless just lying in bed, but understands it's for his own good. He devours mountains of mandarines brought by loved ones. I quietly slip in a protein supplement into his morning tea. He's totally well now, bright, chipper and eager to get back to work. I'm just happy.
For the first time, I trully celebrate valentine's day. I celebrate by holding my loved one close, with a whisper of thanks that I can do so.
Two hours later the white cell count is reported as 35,000 with a neutrophil leukocytosis. Trying very hard not to freak out, I cradle his head as Mums and Dads drive us to hospital. Darling doesn't remember much of that night as he'd conk out every few minutes. Admission goes smoothly... thankfully almost every doctor in the casualty ward has been taught by Mums... some are also seniors who were in campus with me. Antibiotics are pushed in and Darling goes to sleep, the fever broken.
I spent the entire night next to him, obsessively checking the pulse and peripheries. At 4 am a nurse takes pity on me and offers me a chair. I sit next to the bed and lean my head on the mattress... but can't sleep. Every few minutes my fingers seek the reassuring little pulse at his wrist.
3 days in hospital... thankfully people are very understanding at office. I run around from lab, to ward, to x-ray room and back. Quick dash to P&S to get Darling a sugar doughnut. Stopover at Dee's office nearby so I can unload my woes on her shoulder (thanks Dee!) I'm not allowed to spend the night in a male ward so I sleep in casualty room nearby... I can be at the ward in 5 minutes flat if needed.
Darling responds magnificiently to IV antibiotics. By day 2 he's rearing to go home and is soon discharged on strict bed-rest. He's restless just lying in bed, but understands it's for his own good. He devours mountains of mandarines brought by loved ones. I quietly slip in a protein supplement into his morning tea. He's totally well now, bright, chipper and eager to get back to work. I'm just happy.
For the first time, I trully celebrate valentine's day. I celebrate by holding my loved one close, with a whisper of thanks that I can do so.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Mixed birthday bunch
I turned 20-something yesterday (grin...) and just had to post some shots of the birthday flowers sent by Darling... aren't they wonderful? I'm a sucker for flowers... even while a part of me mutters in the background that flowers are a waste of good money since they're going to fade anyway. That, however hasn't stopped me from going ga-ga over pretty petals.
I just love what they've done with the colours, arranging them in blocks... Oooh, and the lillies... my favourite flowers!! The scent is really divine and can be sniffed on entering the house.
Sigh... me one very happy chick.
I just love what they've done with the colours, arranging them in blocks... Oooh, and the lillies... my favourite flowers!! The scent is really divine and can be sniffed on entering the house.
Sigh... me one very happy chick.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Nasi Goreng and chit chat
Today I had an irresistable urge for chinese food. Unresisting, yet strapped for cash, I went over to S.... which was the about the only place I could afford, and get to with a mere 5/- rupee bus fare. Chinese menus 1,2,3 & 4 were sold out, and feeling downcast (not to mention hungry) I went for the only option left - mediocre nasi goreng. The facts that I'm spicy food "intolerant" and not exactly a fan of meat went ignored.
So I sat there, amidst the Colombo office bustle during a weekday lunch hour, moodily shovelling in the unappealing food and staring at the other people chattering happily with friends/family. I felt very lonely, all alone at my glass-topped table.
Subsequent conversation with Darling went something like this.
Me : I had tasteless nasi goreng at S.... today
Darling : You went to S.... for lunch? Why do you voluntarily submit yourself to this kind of torture?
Me : (shrug)
Darling : Hang on, what happened to the (packed) lunch from home?
Me : I gave it away
Darling : To whom?
Me : (sheepishly) A guy on the street...
Darling : WHY???
Me : He looked hungry...
Darling : ......
Me : (helpfully) He offered to pay me 5 rupees for it
Darling : ......????
Me : I said "No, no" and offered him 20 rupees. He said "no, no" also. Then we both walked off
Darling :...........
Darling : I am speechless. See you in the evening.
Hmmm.... poor fellow. He's stuck with me for life.
So I sat there, amidst the Colombo office bustle during a weekday lunch hour, moodily shovelling in the unappealing food and staring at the other people chattering happily with friends/family. I felt very lonely, all alone at my glass-topped table.
Subsequent conversation with Darling went something like this.
Me : I had tasteless nasi goreng at S.... today
Darling : You went to S.... for lunch? Why do you voluntarily submit yourself to this kind of torture?
Me : (shrug)
Darling : Hang on, what happened to the (packed) lunch from home?
Me : I gave it away
Darling : To whom?
Me : (sheepishly) A guy on the street...
Darling : WHY???
Me : He looked hungry...
Darling : ......
Me : (helpfully) He offered to pay me 5 rupees for it
Darling : ......????
Me : I said "No, no" and offered him 20 rupees. He said "no, no" also. Then we both walked off
Darling :...........
Darling : I am speechless. See you in the evening.
Hmmm.... poor fellow. He's stuck with me for life.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Darling Achchi
My grandma died 2 weeks ago.
It took me 13 days to get my thoughts together so that I could reply to all the condolence e-mails/sms/facebook messages... stuff my friends resorted to because I wasn't too keen on answering the phone. 13 days to put into words some of the stuff that has been running around my head.
Achchi had a heart attack soon after the homecoming... for those who are interested it was a NSTEMI (i.e. not affecting all 3 layers of the heart) but quite extensive as all chest leads of the ECG showed changes and the troponin levels were sky high. She was admitted to the CCU, and responded well to the treatment... after more than a month of on-and-off chest pain, she was pain free and confortable. She smiled and talked of going home in couple of days and wanted her brown dress with the sparkly flowers to be brought. The next day she developed internal bleeding... I suspect that was a reaction to the loading doses of aspirin, clopidogrel and enoxaparin. Her Hb plummeted to 6.5g/dl and she needed 3 blood transfusions. Yet she was still smiling when we left...
When I went with breakfast the next morning, something wasn't right. Achchi would usually be on the lookout, eagerly waiting for soup/toast/oats. Instead, she seemed sleepy and just mumbled to leave her alone. Mums deftly checked everything... blood glucose: ok, BP: stable, oxygenation 84% but improved to 100% when a mask was put on, neurologically ok, no signs of a stroke. It was then that we noticed a temperature of a 102 degrees! Antibiotics were started, steroids and other supportive drugs. Tests revealed she had developed staphylococcal septicaemia... goodness knows from where, but probably when one of the dozens of cannulas were inserted.
So there she was in the CCU, unconcious, weathering one crisis after another. Cardiac arrest, hyperkalaemia, unrecordable BP, acute LVF, tachyarrhythmias with heart-rate over 160, impending renal failure etc. etc. on various occasions. But she survived them all. She got the best care from the team of doctors and nurses, she had consultants of every speciality looking after her... She was getting better...
Achchi opened her eyes after 10 days of unconciousness. A couple of days later, she recognised Mums. Those last two days, she was very comfortable... free of pain and fever, on an air mattress, breathing freely and with stable heart rate and BP. I was with her untill about an hour before she passed away... she looked beautiful and peaceful. A pirith cassette was playing, and Mums had placed the earphones on her. She opened her eyes and looked at me just before I left. I left the hospital full of hope... physiotherapy, speech therapy etc.
Close to 10 am, my grandma had just stopped breathing... and all resucitation efforts failed. Mums was with her till the last, and if anyone else had told me, I wouldn't have believd the end could come so suddenly. I can only comfort myself with the knowlege that it was her time to leave... if she had ayusha left... she would have survived with all that treatment and loving care. I was glad she had been comfortable, I believe she was concious enough to hear and focus on the pirith and hope she has been reborn in a good place.
My grandma was a wonderful person, kind, compassionate and loving. My grandfather survives her, and he is heartbroken at having lost his life-partner. They were married for 57 years... but had "an understanding" for a decade before they married. They raised 4 wonderful children (2 engineers, a doctor and a businessman) and had 9 loving grandchildren. Their home was a haven to dozens of nieces and nephews who would invade the premises during school holidays and leave stuffed and played out to their hearts content.
She braved hard times during WWII when my grandfather was abroad and she was not supported by her in-laws. Too proud to ask help from her family and unwilling to complain to her husband, she sold her jewellery, piece by piece in order to have food and shelter for her children. She never bore any ill-will and when her father-in-law contracted TB and was to be banished to Welisara, she had him brought to her home, in spite of having 4 small children there. She fed, washed, nursed and comforted him for many months untill he died.
She wasn't very educated as her father didn't believe girls should go to school beyond standard 5... but education was very important to her, and she rejoiced at every truimphant milestone reached by her kids and grandkids. She had travelled to many countries and really enjoyed life. Always well dressed, she would scope out the latest fashions at family weddings and tell me... "Duwa, so-and-so was wearing a beautiful saree blouse with /only one sleeve/no sleeves/corset fastening at the back etc.... you should get your blouses sewn that way, young girls should be fashionable..."
In the weeks preceeding my wedding, whenever the angina bothered her she said "may lamayage magulen passenam mata monawa vunath kammanne ne" (after this child's marriage, I do not care what happens to me). She pooh-poohed my Victorias Secret body scrub and recomended crushed mung beans mixed with saffron and sandlewood in order (as she said) to make my skin glow like gold. I remember how much she enjoyed herself at both the wedding and the homecoming... meeting with all her relatives and having a ball of a time. Recently while searching her cupboard for a fresh towel, I came across our cake-box, carefully wrapped up in a handkerchief and placed next to the Deva pictures in a corner of the shelf.
Achchi had told my mother that she had made a vow... that after my wedding and homecoming were over, that she would offer a hundred lotus blooms to the Kaluthara Bodhi. So we travelled to the Kaluthara on Saturday, to fulfill the vow on her behalf. I went on buying flowers from vendor after vendor, I'm not sure how many we offered for the pooja, but it was over a hundred. it was an offering of love and devotion... and helped drive home the fact that just as the flowers would fade, so too would we, each of us, experience decay and death.
My grandma was deeply religious, observing sil during all 4 poyas days during her youth, and later, whenever she got a chance. She trully practiced Buddhism, meditating often and above all, spreading loving kindness to every living being. I cannot remember a single instance where she has spoken ill about anyone... even if someone treated her horribly, she would always find an excuse and seek reconcilliation. She has helped build temples and meditation centres, planted holy Bodhi trees, taken part in umpteen katina poojas etc. etc. Her greatest delight and most cherished memory was of the time she was permitted (in her words - "in spite of being a mere woman") to carry a sacred casket containing holy relics (Dhathu Karanduwa) at the local temple.
Gandma was always a sucker for a sob story. Should anyone come to her with a tale of woe, she would give away the money in her purse, the rings off her fingers and the bangles off her hands. Many's the time my mother has gone in track of them, and redeemed them from whatever pawnshop they'd been hocked at. Achchi would lie right and left to save other people (especially domestic assistants... or her naughty grandkids) from blame. Whichever child's home she was staying at, should anything break or get torn or misplaced... Achchi would look suitable contrite and confess to the "crime", knowing fullwell that no one would have the heart to tell her off.
I loved her deeply... and still do. I miss seeing her happy face when I come home from work. I miss having her pottering around, checking on the meals being cooked and her comments (almost always positive) on what I'm wearing. I wish with all my heart that we had been able to somehow help her pull through. The chasm her death left behind continues to gape - black and empty.
I try to comfort myself... She had a good life for 84 years... loved by many. She was relatively healthy and hadn't been hospitalised for anything in over 10 years. She was happy and active and mobile untill the last few weeks... she had a peaceful death.
May she attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana
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