The Red Bindi (Vermillion)

30th June, 2019: This day last year, my dad had to come to visit us and to attend a family wedding. He wanted to take me along because ‘acha nahi lagta’. I’m never keen on attending extended family weddings as they’re just a perfect breeding ground for mean gossips, stroking the baraatis’ egos and judging what isn’t up to the mark. Anyway, I had just come back from a holiday and still felt jet lagged, but I decided to tag along anyway.

When I sat down to put on my make up and jewellery, I distinctly remember my son (4 then) looking at me with a lot of admiration and he planted a kiss or 2 on my forehead. He noticed that I was wearing a bindi which I rarely do. “Why don’t you wear a red bindi mumma? I don’t like the black one;” he said. I quickly put on the red one and pat came his response. “You look so pretty.”

Vishal (my husband) decided to stay back home as he was too tired from the long flight. So I drove my dad and my son to the wedding. When we reached the venue, I started to feel a slight headache and nausea. I thought it was the heat or the exertion from the travel. The loud music and the crowd further added to my discomfort. I grabbed a soda from the counter and started to chat around with a few people to distract myself from the uneasiness. It didn’t help and I wanted to throw up. I went to the loo to relieve myself and when I got up, I felt something snap in my head. My legs started to tremble and my vision became obscure. I’d never felt this way before. I tried to get up but I could hardly balance my body. I felt dizzy and I threw up again. By now, I couldn’t see anything clearly and I reached out for the tap to wash my eyes. I realised something wasn’t right with me and I needed to call for help. I managed to locate the bolt in the door and opened it. By now, my left arm and left leg felt completely numb. My head was spinning. I managed to pop out of the bathroom and I saw a distorted blue figure to my left. I grabbed it and muttered, "call my father". I collapsed on the floor instantly. I threw up again and I my heart started to sink. By now, a large crowd had gathered around me and I could hear my son crying in the background. 

I couldn’t open my eyes anymore, but I could hear and recognise every voice in the background. I heard my son crying out "Mumma", my dad fumbling for his phone and calling out my name "Main yahin hun". I realised I couldn’t lift my head anymore. My left arm and leg felt listless and my lips were numb. My dad made a frantic call to Vishal and asked him to come to the venue immediately. I kept throwing up and felt dizzied from the dehydration. I kept screaming in desperation, "Papa, main sink kar rahi hun." There was complete hysteria around and everybody scrambled to locate a hospital nearby to rush me in. 20 minutes in, I was lifted up, put in my car and driven to a nearby medical facility for SOS. I threw up again. I still couldn’t open my eyes but I could hear my son whimpering “meri mumma marr gayi hai.” My heart thumped in my ears and I felt I would pass out any second. But I kept talking to keep my mind alert. 

The local hospital was in a deplorable state; under staffed in the ER, poor medical facilities and doctors who ran around like headless chickens. I was given a few injections to control my nausea, a saline drip and I was sent home after my condition stabilised. It was 3 am in the morning and we were finally on our way home. But Vishal wasn’t convinced with the medical assistance provided. He insisted we go to a better hospital to get a proper diagnosis done. I was exhausted. I was worried for my dad and my son who were traumatised and I wanted all of us to go home, get some rest and get past this nightmare. 

The next morning, I woke up in hope to lift my head up and put my feet on the ground. I still couldn’t. And we didn’t know why, until I was rushed to the Fortis ER again that morning as my condition worsened. The doctors at the scene took 2 seconds to look at me and declared that I had had a brain stroke. I was just 34.

I was admitted to the neurology ICU immediately to further examine the extent of damage to my brain. We had already lost a lot of precious time without any diagnosis or proper treatment, the night before. I had a piercing pain in my right temple that wouldn’t go and my vision was compromised. I was constantly in and out of sleep and in-between tests. The reports suggested that it was a major stroke and I had a very narrow escape. The stroke had left me 50% blind, with a mild paralysis in my left side of the body.

When I first opened my eyes after 2 days of inertia, I saw a bearded man standing next to me and I realised it was Vishal. I spotted a blurry, red'ish' dot on his shirt. It was the bindi I was wearing on the night I had the stroke. He hadn’t gone home in 2 days. 

It’s been a year since this life changing incident happened to us. The memories are still fresh and daunting, as if it happened just yesterday. My son, who was all of 4 then, can still narrate the entire incident without missing out on any detail. For the longest time, he wouldn’t let me shut my eyes as he became hyper vigilant. He was shook. My dad kept blaming himself for what had happened as he 'forcibly' took me to the wedding. My mother had to put on a brave face in front of me but she constantly fought back her tears. Vishal was still in a state of disbelief and shock. He couldn’t feel or say anything for days. I got to know much later that he had a break down while I was battling for my life.

And for me; I surprised myself and everybody else with the way I took this whole thing. I was just thankful that I was alive, that I could still see partially and that half my body still functioned. The other half was responding well to physiotherapy and I knew I would be back on my feet very soon. 7 days after the stroke, I started to walk with support. My blurry vision was clearer and I was finally discharged from the ICU. I was back to work 6 weeks later.

Have I recovered completely after a year? I’d say I’m a work in progress. Did it impact my self confidence and mental health? I’d be lying if I said no. I continue to live with a compromised vision, a clot in my brain and a constant fear of recurrence. Why did it happen in the first place? I don’t have an answer. Even the doctors couldn’t arrive at a definitive cause. Why me? I believe whatever happens, happens for a reason. But has it changed my perspective towards life? Yes! I don’t aim for a fancier house or a plush car anymore. I don’t run after a fatter pay check. Does that mean I don’t have any ambition in life? No. I just want to stop chasing things that are inconsequential. I want to slow down in life, go after things that make me happier and more fulfilled and things that help me become a more well-rounded human being. A better version of myself who might inspire a fellow survivor. 

A year down the line, what I feel is immense gratitude for how as a family, we’ve managed to dodge this curve ball together and that is enough to get us going through this lifetime.