Nursing Naturally

Being in a religious house, I understand, I am spared from much of pain and agony that my family members go through every now and then. After a few days, my father is not well again, and every time when one of the family members falls sick, it becomes a matter of concern for all the members. He had eaten only in the morning, and says he does not feel like eating; there is a sense of nausea, so typical of those who are sick for some days. But the fact that he has not eaten has worried my mother, sister, and niece. Each of them have their own load of worries, and when my father falls sick, all of them are deeply worried, and do what they can to get him alright.

I felt the words of my mother hard to digest; she finds it hard to see my father, who for the most part of his life had been quite healthy, lying down helplessly. My parents are used to fighting constantly, especially when my father goes hiding with his bottle, but at a moment like this, my mother is all caring. I had experienced her care when I was sick many years ago. I might have been some seven years then, but still remember quite clearly how she nursed me and made me healthy. She feels sad that my father is not able to eat, not able to contain himself. My sister had bought a loaf of bread after her school hours, so that he could eat something before going to bed. But he refuses to eat even that.

We become quite different when we are sick, especially when we are down with a relatively major sickness, including malaria, typhoid, pneumonia and the type. On the one hand, we become quite helpless, and require the help and assistance of people around us; on the other we feel sad to bother and disturb others to help us. While we may feel hard to swallow even the liquid food, especially when we lose appetite, others may think that we are just staging. Pretence is the last thing that any sick person would resort to, and what can work wonders is a greater dose of understanding and support to the person who is sick.

Sometimes I feel the importance of having a family, friends and relatives, when I am sick; there were times when my companions in the house did not even know that I was sick, even as I did not join the meals or other common community programs. Loneliness has haunted me at such moments, but I realize this is part of our cross. Some communities are lucky to have such a motherly person as ‘minister’, who would go out of his way to take good care of the members under his care. But such persons are only rare and exceptions. More than at other occasions, we need the love and care of community and companions at the time of our sickness, because those are the moments we feel ourselves so very vulnerable and helpless.

I know one thing for sure, that my father would listen to me, and that is the reason why I spoke to him a few words to encourage him to eat and go to bed. Knowingly or unknowingly we also like the little attention of other family members when we are sick. I remember how one of our senior fathers was so very delighted to have a cup of soup every day, during his 20 days of stay at a nursing home, and I would not be surprised that it was the soup and the loving care of sisters and friends which had restored his health so soon. More than medicine, what is required when we are sick, is the loving care of the companions and friends. This alone can do miracles when we are sick and bring us back to health.

Cheating LIfe Cheerfully

One of our senior Fathers had been ill for quite sometime now; he was admitted to a nursing home, initially diagnosed Malaria, but later the physicians changed their opinion saying it could be thyphoid! The man who was known as a soft-spoken all these years, suddenly became over talkative. He spoke profusely and did not feel tired of talking for a long time. He would talk for about an hour and at the end of which would say that he was talking too much those days, and yet would not stop talking. He repeated many of the stories he had been obsering from the first day in the nursing home.

The physicians who were treating him were not surprised that he was finding it hard to cope with the nursing home routine; he did not like the food given in there, and so the sisters living close to our house, decided to offer him lunch every day, something what he liked a lot. Our college too prepared something for his breakfast and got it reached for him. At 85, it is normal that the senior citizens ask for a little more attention than they would otherwise ask for. He had a steady stream of guests and visitors, walking into his room in the nursing home, and he had to repeat all the stories to all of them, everytime they turned up.

Even at this age, he had a strong will power and stamina to accept it with a cheer, and tried to enjoy the days he stayed in the nursing home, sometimes the saline given round the clock. He had a fondness for a young caregiver (nurse), who took liberty to look after him with felial love and devotion. But he was not in favor with the senior caregiver, who deprived him of the pillow during the first three days, without consulting with the physician attending on him, and he could not forgive her for that. But he got along cheerfully with the younger nurse, and even spoke quite high of her.

Everytime I visited him in the nursing home or in the college, where he is now, he would make it a point to repeat again and again that he was definitely making a great progress. At one time, he even said that his hearing had improved after the stay in the nursing home, and his appetite too had improved. He surely plans to live upto the age of 95, and I would not be surprised if he really makes it, because he has the will power to live, with great cheerfulness. He is quite disciplined, and has his daily routine, which include an hour of evening walk in the nearby garden, meals at the appointed time, water 8 glasses at stipulated hours, and his diet is also quite constant.

If there is anyone who has zest for life, he is surely one such. Today as I walked into his room, he was on the internet, sending mails to his family back in Belgium about his health. After several days, he was back to emails, and he was quite happy to say hello to his nieces and nephews, who might have been worried what had happened to him. He has very little grudges, though he is not altogether free from prejudices, but knows how to occupy his time. He looks much better than what he was before the attack of fever some three weeks ago. I only wish I be like him, when I reach 85!