My mother has gone under 4-5 different surgeries including the birth of my brother and I. But unlike her previous surgeries, this time, we spent more than 12 hours together every day. And as each day passes, I get to see her as a strong woman, who is pushing herself to reach the pinnacle of good health.
The initial 48 hours of recovery were quite difficult for mom. Once around 4:30am, she woke up with this piercing pain in her lower back. And as she wailed in pain, waiting for the nurse to induce her with a painkiller, I sat there helplessly blaming God for mom’s agony. Once induced, she drifted off to sleep, but I couldn’t. I kept staring out of the window because I was scared. What if something happens to her if I fall asleep?
She doesn’t remember much from the initial 48 hours, but I have seen her fight through her pain every second. Somehow in that moment even her first sip of tea post op seemed monumental. Even during semi sedative condition, she was more worried about her family and if we have eaten on time.
All my life I have been so used to her being around, tirelessly looking after all of us. Mom’s absence in the house for four days drove me crazy, mentally and emotionally.
In the future, if I were able to do even half of what she does for us, I would consider myself a winner. Yes, it is just a procedural hysterectomy in the world of medicine. But for her, it’s another battle won with sweat and blood (quite literally).
