Hearty Laugh Attack

 

 

Contributed by : Dr. Kishore Shah  (Received this from Mr. Sreedharan for sharing it here)

Dr. Kishore Shah is a renowned Gynecologist practicing in Pune. He is a prolific writer. Humor is his forte. The following article is in his own words about the “MI” (myocardial infarction – heart attack)  he had suffered few days back…….. 

I suffered a heart attack about 5 days ago. Here is my account of what happened:

As I was rushed to the Cardiac ICU, I just had this sinking feeling in my heart. Just like the one before you enter the Viva Voce hall and see the most khadoos examiner in place, only worse.

The resident there was quite courteous, “Sir, How are you feeling?”

I looked at him groggily and whispered, “Just like Rakhi Sawant!”

He looked at me perplexed. I continued and said, “I feel an unnatural weight on my chest.”

The resident didn’t know whether to send me off to the Psychiatry ward or not. I said, “Aare Baba, ECG nikaal, nahi toh main nikal jaoonga!”

The funniest part of my heart attack, or “cardiac event” as the doctor there insisted on calling it, was that there was no pain. That would come afterwards when they presented me the bill. But for now I was painless.

“Do you smoke?” persisted the resident.

“I have never tried burning myself, but probably would.” My wife nudged me and ntervened, “He does not smoke or drink. Just keeps cracking these pointless PJs.”

The resident promptly scribbled something on the pad. He probably wrote that the patient was delirious. After peering with screwed eyes at my ECG he said, “Q wave changes.”

I said, “I give up. You tell me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know Kyon wave changes. You tell me.”

The resident stopped telling me anything else. He turned to my wife and said, “It seems to be a Minor Infarct.”

I don’t know what it is with doctors. How can you call any heart infarct minor? If there is an infarct, it is a major thing, at least for the patient. There was also some depressing talk about ST depressions. Here I felt as if an ST bus was driving over my chest, who bothered whether that ST was depressed or happy?

I was immediately admitted to the ICCU and posted for an Angiography the next day. One piece of advice to all Cardiac care units: If you do not want your heart patients to have any further attacks, do not appoint such lovely  young nurses. Most of the nurses in the entire world are from Kerala. If all the nurses return home, all the hospitals in the world will come to a stop..And there will be no standing space in Kerala.

There were big notices posted outside the door of the ICCU. “No Visitors” and no “No Mobiles”. Okay, so there would be no breaking news dispatches from me. Soon a pretty, young Malayali nurse came and told me “Gaana Gaaneka nai.”

This came as a shock to me. Not that I wanted to break out into a song and dance routine. I could understand that visitors might disturb the patient, or even the mobiles. But songs?How could anyone be so unmusical?

I said Okay but was a bit miffed.  After many pricks and monitors on my body, half an hour later another pretty young thing came and told me “Gaana Gaaneka nai!”

I was a bit angry. I said, “Yeah! Yeah! Someone told me before also.”

But this really intrigued me. Why were they so strict about songs? If they had said that I could not dance due to my heart condition, I could have accepted that. But never in my long medical education had I been warned that singing was bad for cardiac health. I wondered if this was a new advance.

The mystery was cleared when the next Malayali sister, who appeared to be their head nurse, came and explained to me, “Doctor Shah, Aap ka blood samble subay saat ko hai. Toh abi Gaana Gaaneka nai. Phir Kaali pet samble lene ke baad Gaana Gaaneka.”

I immediately added an interpreter to my mental suggestion box. It must be really tough to interpret Gaana as Khaana. But the Mallus can’t help their accent.

After a relatively painless night, mainly because relatives were not allowed, and also due to the various drips and things, I woke up to the prick of a blood ‘Samble’. Then I was allowed to ‘Gaana Gaaneko’.

All the tests gave worse and worse news. There was an inferior wall infarct which the cardiologist insisted on calling minor. (I hoped he would remember this while billing me.) My Trop T was raised. In short,this is a help call from the heart. I was posted for angiography and an SOS plasty the next day after stabilization.

On the morning of the procedure, I got the shock of my life, when a grim looking man entered my room and sent my wife out. He then locked the room and took out a large and sharp glistening razor. Omigosh!

This was not how they performed operations, at least not during the last century. Or was this a scene from an assassin movie? The man thenturned to me and smiled and said that he had come to shave me for the procedure.

I sighed with relief. One always wants to look nice and presentable for  important occasions even if they be the gallows. I smiled back at him and jutted out my chin at him for easy access. But he ignored my chin and pulled down my pajamas. I shrieked, “Hey, Its my heart that is amiss.”

“Yes Sir. We need to shave your groin!” Groan Groan!

Five minutes later, I was all spick and span and presentable for my planned  procedure. Calling it a procedure, reduces the fear factor from it. If you call it an operation, which it is, you might suffer a further attack. If you call it a butchery, which it sometimes can be, then you need not go to the procedure. I proceeded with a sinking heart, if it could sink any more, to the operation room, which they call a cath lab. It’s all about euphemism.

When I entered the ‘Cath lab’, I found it extremely cold. Was the AC at  full blast or was I frightened or was my heart not pumping enough blood? Probably all three. There was soft music playing Hindi songs in the background. The nurse told me to remove all my clothes and lie down on a narrow table. I have already mentioned the weather conditions, so it did not help that here I was completely nude like a fresh plucked chicken, lying on a table, with half my respective buttocks spilling out of the respective sides of the table. The AC vent was directed towards the exact centre of my body.

The Hindi song playing was “Haste Gaate yahan se gujar, Duniya ki tu parwa na kar.” That was very kind of my namesake Kishoreda to remind me how to face this ordeal. But I was very frightened. His next versealso told me, “Maut ani hai ayegi ek din, Jaan jaani hai jaayegi ekdin, Aisi baton se kya ghabarana, Yaha kal kya ho kisne jaana?” I  almost burst out yodeling along with him . OOdle di OOd le di Ooo oo.

The anesthetist approached me and saw me smiling. He was confused. Was this guy so frightened that he was smiling? How could I tell him thatI was marveling at Kishoreda’s accurate advice to me, a smaller Kishore Kumar.

Then came the good part. Many layers of warm clothes were laid on me.

I was  shivering, but no longer like the Antarctica. It was more like Shimla now.

The Cardiologist told me that I would now feel a little pain in my groin.

Most appropriately, the song playing now was “Dil hai kaha aur Dardkaha”. I smiled and said, “Yes Boss. Go ahead.”

I won’t go into the gruesome details, but what was visible to me and the  entire team there was that my Right Coronary artery was nearly completely blocked. The doctor said, “Yes, a stent will be required.

Dr. Shah, should we insert an Endeavor drug eluting stent?”

I felt ashamed to admit to him that I didn’t know a thing about stents. Being a Gynaecologist, I only knew about stunts. So I asked him, “What is the difference between this one and the other one?” I didn’t know the name of the other one, so I cloaked it in the anonymity of ‘the other one’. He said, “There are many differences, but the main one is in the price.”

“Then I think you should ask my wife, because she is the one with the purse as well as the purse strings.”

After a brief consultation, my wife decided that her husband was after all worth a bit more than this costly stent. But the effect was magical. In front of my eyes, I could see a withered autumn tree of heart vasculature suddenly burst out in full spring glory of new tributaries.

Thus I came out of the ‘lab’ a new and reborn man. It seemed as if I had thrown off my school shirt and worn a new comfy and roomy one. It was as if I had exchanged Adnan Sami’s new shirt for his older ones.

No more tightness around the chest. The song playing in the lab when I came out was appropriately “Aaj Main jawaan ho gayi hoon. Gul se gulistan ho gayi hoon.”

 

An interesting narration of a heart condition by a Gynaecologist.

Size Matters….

Preface:

Those who belong to this unique club, personalize it yourself – Think of you as “I” wherever used in this blog. This Biographical account is a Matter of FAT…Ooopss Matter of FACT. Take offense at your own risk – remember you will be ticking off a 100 kg+ mass.

Body (No Pun intended)

I am a guy (all my friends vouch for it) whose weight in Kgs almost matches (or exceeds) number of friends I have on Facebook (over 5K).

The website of Art of Living founded by His Holiness Sri Sri Ravishankar ji popularly known as the Guru of Joy says, it is spread over 152 countries. I also have have matching number to claim some fame – I have 152 kgs of force acting on me towards the centre of the earth.

I cannot but help be reminded of that skeleton hanging from the hook in the Biology lab, when I see some skinny friends who call themselves fit – Baaahhhh.

As I grew up they also reminded me of those skimpy clothes that move around on FTV . I always thought it was just those 2-3 pieces of rags moving on stage till some one said there are humans inside it. I love when these people give me those very adorable admiring looks 😉 **Blush…blush**

I had this “Fats-Challenged” Size Zero poor soul who tried to poke fun about that lovely little paunch. Reader, tell me if a paunch smaller than that Hill where Sumeru Mantap is situated is a Paunch especially an on a lovely chiselled physical structure?

I challenged her if she has as much muscles in her entire body? (a friendly Doctor – Swami Hardik of my club asks me to refer it as Muscle, I have to agree that it is medically appropriate too). And she wears clothes that are as costly (if not more) though she just was wearing 1/10th of what I was wearing.

And here is an open challenge. I can hug anyone single handedly. Those Size-zeroes need to assemble ten of them in a Sam-Gachatvam circle to get around me. So who is more enviroment friendly? What a single person like me can do, needs 10 to do. HUGs… and I tell you, when we Hug, it indeed is a real HUG they get!!!

Some advantage (those skinny ones call it is unfair and envy me for this) – I never suffer from what some Not-Obese starlets refer to as “food-martyrdom” I mean I dont belong to those folks who say (or atleast think) Oh! No I should not have eaten that extra topping of cheeze on my Pizza, or Which devil had taken over me that I ate that slab of chocolate.

As my Guruji …err Gurudev (after an earlier blog by Aparazzi, I have to say Gurudev, BTW! she very nearly belongs to my club and empathises with my feelings here) HH Sri Sri Ravishankar ji of Art of Living Foundation says – Serve to your capacity and a bit more. I follow it to the “T”. I serve … to the brink of the capacity of my plate and more… Very Obedient follower, Am I not?

Why I am popular with the kids. Kids never have to worry about getting bruised by the bones when they sit on your lap, like they do when they sit on laps of say Sumathi or Ashwin. What they experience is a royally cushioned unbeatable comfort on my lap – and as a bonus a reclining cushion (others call it a paunch)

Another  reason why I love every gram of my bulk because my Obesity acts as a “Friend Filter” – Do I need to be friend with someone who cannot ACCEPT ME AS I AM?”

I am mortally scared of Tattooing (rather getting Tattooed) On a trip abroad, while everyone in the team was being forced by the gracious host (yes, Size Zero guy) to get a body Tattoo done at his cost, I was excused – because I had a large body surface to Tattoo (read – the host to dig his pocket into an abyss)

And now, instead of fighting my bulge (did it for so many years successfully – fighting it I mean) I decided to indulge. Only way to fight bulge is to indulge 😉

Another great part – I get tailored dresses not those run-of-the-mill stuff that you guyz/gals pick up as Readymade from local shop.Trying to find clothes to fit me is like a treasure hunt for my wife 😉

Evolution from Laptop to Belly-Top – Now how many of you have this luxuy?

I could go on and on about why being Obese or fat is a virtue, but Editors don’t allow the luxury with Words that I take with my weight. So signing off…. with my LAST (BUT ONE) WORD! (I always keep a reserve of Capacity + More)

I can eat what I want, when I want and how muchever I want (the very reason I got here in the first place)

And Final Final Advantage of being FAAATTTTT!!!! Beat this…

Long Love Obesity!!

PS: Copyrights of the Pictures/Video with Respective Owners – If in violation please let us know and we would promptly take it off. (However, read the preface – you will do it at risk of offending a 100kg+ bulk)

Keep Smiling :-)

Administrator(s)! I hope you have just got out of your meditation after Kriya – and highest state of “accept (and approve) the blog as it is…”

I start with an answer to a question a whole lot of my friends (surprised at how I suddenly changed since 1998) – Why so spiritual and amidst a busy schedule “Breathe” spirituality the Art of Living way. Answer is simple – I enjoy it. For those who know me, if it was only hard work (or even work-outs), I would be far away from it. So Sadhana (no, no! not a girl) as in Spiritual practices continues to be fun, despite my slim figure – “O” is a figure too, isn’t it?

As His Holiness Sri Sri Ravishankar rightly said God loves fun (Oye… me too) and Spirituality is not that quagmire of complicated words that I otherwise heard for most part of my life. Hence I chose to make trips to the Art of Living centres and avoid repeated trips to Medical diagnostic labs with samples in bottles.

Some Personal experiences with Yoga

With years of practice of Yoga today I gradually stretch to conclusions and don’t jump to it.

Oh yes! The best part that I am able to stretch the best is my Jaws. Research says average biting force of the human jaw is 162 PSI! And Boy…with such a workout that I give it, mine is atleast 5 times more

More facts on the biting force of various teeth – maximal biting force values of incisor, bicuspid, and first molar of all the males were 43.3kg, 99.11kg, and 120.66kg. (the last two pretty much matches my weight)

The other exercise that I practice with unfailing regularity was “Taking my Hands from the Plate to Mouth” and again and again… I can do this for hours together. The reason why instead of increasing Weights (during Weight training), I increased my Waist.

Kashiji/Kamleshji – Just a question – if I was supposed to touch my knees with nose, God would have placed knees would be on my palms no? Well! that is the only part that can easily reach the tip of my nose (for now I can reach my nose with my hands – thank God! not too much of a distance between mouth and nose)

After the Yogathon 2012, my body gave me a gentle reminder of every single bone, joint and muscle that exist in me (other than the only two that I always was aware – jaws and hand). Namaste….One…Two. Those counts still ring in my ears.

Finally it would do good to know that it is far more important for a smile to spread over your chin than it is to get your chin closer to your shin.

Remember! Life is hard. It’s breathe, breathe, breathe … all the time. This is what Art of Living and staying “Within” is all about.