Impatiently he sat. Each time the door swung open, he would look up, then look at his watch and scowl. "For heavens' sake, how much longer is he going to take ?" he fretted. His wife, looking up from her magazine, made to hold his hand, which he impatiently shook off. With a shrug, she went back to her reading. Unable to sit any longer, he got to his feet and paced down the corridor."You can go in now sir, but first you'll have to change, " the nurse was holding out overalls. Frowning he took them from her hands, and hurried into the changing room. Emerging, he hurried into the CT scan chamber.
The machine was imposing in itself, and when he was asked to lie down on the tourney, he almost ran from the room. Extremely claustrophobic, he knew he'd need nerves of steel to undergo the test. "Try meditation," said his anxious wife.
As the tourney moved, he fought back waves of nausea, feeling as though he was trapped in a tiny tunnel. With a mammoth effort, he calmed himself, closed his eyes and lay still. In the quiet of the room, his thoughts flew back to his office where yesterday, in the midst of a vital meeting, he had collapsed. "This can't be happening to me", he thought. "I'v always been a tough guy." Broad shouldered, stocky, he prided himself on his fit physique, even though he was on the wrong side of sixty. His best friend and running mate, his physician was someone he met everyday at the track, where they ran together, before each went his way. No stranger to the gym, he had been careful with his diet, too. Never had he worried about his health, which was why, the collapse was something inexplicable. He had lain awake the entire night, fear and rage at this disruption of his life, raging inside him. He realised with a sinking heart, that the control he had over his life had just been taken away from him. The life he had so taken for granted, the immense love he had for his profession, the desire he had to see his grandchildren grow and flourish, was all in jeopardy. "I don't want to die, I love everything about my life, please God, dont take it all away from me !" he beseeched.
"Roy, I've just seen your scans, " the doctor looked him in the eyes. Stricken he waited for the verdict. This time he didn't push away the hand his wife held out to him. "You have a tumour, which we have to have out as soon as possible." The doctor looked at his white face, and answered the question uppermost on his mind : "Only after we have it out, can I tell you if its benign or not."
"I want a second opinion. Does this place have the neccessary expertise to handle my case. I can go abroad if needed. " he demanded to know. The doctor sighed, and looked at him. "As you wish, but you'd better hurry. It would be best if you get it out soonest."
"Roy, you have to let the doctor do his job. He's the best in his field, in India. Trust me. I would trust him with my life." Roy was talking to his jogger friend, the physician. "Well, I don't !" Roy snapped back. "You have to." said his wife, entering the room. "You've little choice. And time." Collapsing on the sofa, he looked mutely at them. "This is my life, dammit ! " he shouted. "And you are all that I have, " said his wife softly. "You're going for surgery as soon as possible, I insist,"said his friend. "That's decided, then."
'Superstar undergoes brain surgery', screamed the headlines, the next day. Outside the hospital, his fans laid a vigil, night and day. The outpouring of love for him astounded all of the fim industry, social networks were full of the latest news, bouquets of flowers so overwhelmed his staff, they had to be redirected to his home. Steadfastly thru it all, sat his wife by his bedside. His son and grandsons were the only people allowed to see him.
He lay on the hospital bed, oblivious to the fuss being made over him.The operation had been touch and go, and only after a few days would doctors be able to predict the outcome. Meanwhile, he lay listlessly on the bed, his strength and will sapped from the ordeal he had undergone.
The weeks merged into a month, then two. Slowly he emerged from the vegetative state he was in. Doctors started him on physiotherapy, but he had lost his will and would not cooperate. The best efforts of his family were in vain.
The fan climbed in thru the window. He was young and agile, and had shimmied up the pipe outside the window. The two of them stared at each other, one in awe, the other indifferently. Going closer to him, he dropped down on one knee before his idol. "Sir," he said, his voice trembling. "I worship you, you are my God." As he continued to stare at the youngster, the boy reached inside his shirt and withdrew a roll of paper. This is my homage to you. " So saying he unrolled it, to display a collage of pictures, cut from newspapers, dating back to about fifty years, From his first film as a young dashing hero to his latest powerful portrayal of a grandfather. "I inherited this from my father, your second biggest fan, and have continued his work. " Daringly seizing his hand from beneath the blanket, he said, "I'm outside sir, and i will remain there until you go home." As guards streamed in and started dragging him away, his words resonated in the room, "I will give up my life in exchange for yours, sir, please come back ! Please get well !"
From deep within the recesses of his fogged mind, the star heard him. From deep within him, the blood started to surge, thru his body, like it had when his first film had released and catapulted him to stardom. He struggled to his feet, and from there on never looked back. After all, he had promises to keep, and miles to go before he could sleep..
The machine was imposing in itself, and when he was asked to lie down on the tourney, he almost ran from the room. Extremely claustrophobic, he knew he'd need nerves of steel to undergo the test. "Try meditation," said his anxious wife.
As the tourney moved, he fought back waves of nausea, feeling as though he was trapped in a tiny tunnel. With a mammoth effort, he calmed himself, closed his eyes and lay still. In the quiet of the room, his thoughts flew back to his office where yesterday, in the midst of a vital meeting, he had collapsed. "This can't be happening to me", he thought. "I'v always been a tough guy." Broad shouldered, stocky, he prided himself on his fit physique, even though he was on the wrong side of sixty. His best friend and running mate, his physician was someone he met everyday at the track, where they ran together, before each went his way. No stranger to the gym, he had been careful with his diet, too. Never had he worried about his health, which was why, the collapse was something inexplicable. He had lain awake the entire night, fear and rage at this disruption of his life, raging inside him. He realised with a sinking heart, that the control he had over his life had just been taken away from him. The life he had so taken for granted, the immense love he had for his profession, the desire he had to see his grandchildren grow and flourish, was all in jeopardy. "I don't want to die, I love everything about my life, please God, dont take it all away from me !" he beseeched.
"Roy, I've just seen your scans, " the doctor looked him in the eyes. Stricken he waited for the verdict. This time he didn't push away the hand his wife held out to him. "You have a tumour, which we have to have out as soon as possible." The doctor looked at his white face, and answered the question uppermost on his mind : "Only after we have it out, can I tell you if its benign or not."
"I want a second opinion. Does this place have the neccessary expertise to handle my case. I can go abroad if needed. " he demanded to know. The doctor sighed, and looked at him. "As you wish, but you'd better hurry. It would be best if you get it out soonest."
"Roy, you have to let the doctor do his job. He's the best in his field, in India. Trust me. I would trust him with my life." Roy was talking to his jogger friend, the physician. "Well, I don't !" Roy snapped back. "You have to." said his wife, entering the room. "You've little choice. And time." Collapsing on the sofa, he looked mutely at them. "This is my life, dammit ! " he shouted. "And you are all that I have, " said his wife softly. "You're going for surgery as soon as possible, I insist,"said his friend. "That's decided, then."
'Superstar undergoes brain surgery', screamed the headlines, the next day. Outside the hospital, his fans laid a vigil, night and day. The outpouring of love for him astounded all of the fim industry, social networks were full of the latest news, bouquets of flowers so overwhelmed his staff, they had to be redirected to his home. Steadfastly thru it all, sat his wife by his bedside. His son and grandsons were the only people allowed to see him.
He lay on the hospital bed, oblivious to the fuss being made over him.The operation had been touch and go, and only after a few days would doctors be able to predict the outcome. Meanwhile, he lay listlessly on the bed, his strength and will sapped from the ordeal he had undergone.
The weeks merged into a month, then two. Slowly he emerged from the vegetative state he was in. Doctors started him on physiotherapy, but he had lost his will and would not cooperate. The best efforts of his family were in vain.
The fan climbed in thru the window. He was young and agile, and had shimmied up the pipe outside the window. The two of them stared at each other, one in awe, the other indifferently. Going closer to him, he dropped down on one knee before his idol. "Sir," he said, his voice trembling. "I worship you, you are my God." As he continued to stare at the youngster, the boy reached inside his shirt and withdrew a roll of paper. This is my homage to you. " So saying he unrolled it, to display a collage of pictures, cut from newspapers, dating back to about fifty years, From his first film as a young dashing hero to his latest powerful portrayal of a grandfather. "I inherited this from my father, your second biggest fan, and have continued his work. " Daringly seizing his hand from beneath the blanket, he said, "I'm outside sir, and i will remain there until you go home." As guards streamed in and started dragging him away, his words resonated in the room, "I will give up my life in exchange for yours, sir, please come back ! Please get well !"
From deep within the recesses of his fogged mind, the star heard him. From deep within him, the blood started to surge, thru his body, like it had when his first film had released and catapulted him to stardom. He struggled to his feet, and from there on never looked back. After all, he had promises to keep, and miles to go before he could sleep..
wow! youve written this awesome well!
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