I don't know if the ones who are overweight and have a sense of humour necessarily live long, but I have seen many who are just not bothered about their physical size creating ripples of laughter all around, wherever they are. A few of this type are in my close circle. When asked about their health, “perfect” comes the reply — followed by a "but". “There’s a bit of cholesterol, a bit of BP, and pardon me, sugar in the black market too.” They see a joke in everything and laugh at themselves heartily. And many I know lived long and a few are still kicking, in spite of reaching a ripe age. On with the jokes, carrying the weight happily.
A recent incident. My cousin, whose body scale tips more to the right, as she claims due to absolving others’ sins, is a darling of all and a jolly good one, and to her came that shocking news. She is so sweet-looking, and refuses to stand on a weighing scale pleading potential scale damage. A foodie, her hands would reach out to anything that is palatable. She wouldn't mind climbing a mountain for a biriyani . Once travelling together, she made me stop the car on seeing something. Virtually a full load of tapioca was put in my car without a question asked.
“Anna (brother), with fish curry this is just great”, she said, and a mouthful of saliva forced my silence. I tease her always about my car that was unable to pull the truckload of tapioca that day.
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Just into her forties, recently she had often been complaining of fatigue to the extreme and severe joint pains. Various treatments, including ayurveda oil massages, made matters only worse, and with intolerable pain she went to the doctor. A suggested scan was done. The scan report gave a shock to all. It revealed a growth near the kidney. Then further tests and scans confirmed the problem. Any growth is seen with fear of it being malignant. The radiologist’s report to which a few had access said “suspected malignancy”, and further investigation was advised.
And further investigation confirmed what everyone feared. “Malignant” was the word printed in block letters. For doctors it is routine to come across such grave problems, but for others, the ordinary people, it is more than one can take. The atheist in her husband turned a believer when confronted with the situation. The dyed-in-the-wool communist kept his principles aside and became a regular temple-goer. It brought smiles in a few even amid fear and grief. There were prayers and offerings made. She was admitted to one of the premier hospitals and further investigations and surgery were fixed.
Everyone was tense, keeping fingers crossed. The D-day of surgery came, and it was expected to be a complicated one that they said might last hours. The extent of the problem would be known only during surgery when the affected part is opened, was what we learned.
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Almost eight hours into it and everyone was tense, waiting outside for any scrap of information. Everyone was on the edge for hours. Then, like god comes the chief doctor, smiling, and says: “She is very lucky, early stage, nothing to worry. But one kidney was removed; it was the safest option. Believe me, she will live a hundred years.”
His “hundred years” comment removed all fears and impressions that we had of having to live without one kidney. She was in the post-operative ward and the ICU for a few days and restrictions on visitors kept us away.
When she was almost on the road to recovery I visited her, and as one who used to always tease her about her weight the first thing she said on seeing me was: “Anna, I shed some weight.”
“How?” I asked, as I had entered the room with some encouraging statistics of living with one kidney
“Took away one kidney.”
The smiles around turned into laughter.
We’re certain this girl will live a hundred years.
srisree50@rediff.com