Have Mercy Lahore
This is an account of what I went through whilst I was in Lahore, written in the past sense because it depicts what I faced when I was in Pakistan a month ago. I just forgot to write about it and post it earlier.
I have never been subjected to so many hospital visits and medicines. Still, ever since I have come to Lahore 3 weeks ago, I have gone sicker and sicker, to the point that drugs, water and sleep control and rule my life right now. Water and sleep in the right amounts and duration are suitable for the body, but not medicines. So I feel for my liver; I seriously do. But, dear God, please save me? I have no idea what happened this time when I visited Lahore.
Usually, whenever I visit Lahore, the first and foremost thing that happens is that I am a victim of food poisoning or Gastroenteritis. There has never been a time that I haven’t contracted this vicious contagious disease and not ended up in the hospital on drips and being given injections. I call it cruel because this disease is a bitch. It provides pain and makes you weak; plus, I have heard many people dying from it. I feel sickly, and then I get food poisoning. My stomach starts getting killer cramps, and I vomit and get attacked by Diarrhoea.
After that, my system is pumped with various drugs, including the stomach painkiller Flagyl, which is a lifesaver, especially in Pakistan. I have never had this food poisoning problem or stomach problem while in Dubai. It is only when I visit Lahore that I have these problems. Then I get all these other drugs into my system, too, and various medicines are injected into me. This time, however, I have not been attacked by Gastroenteritis. This time it is something worse in my opinion! It is breathing problems or, more specifically, dust allergies.
I got so ill that I had to be taken to the Emergency Ward in National Hospital to be injected with antibiotics and nebulised. After that, I was given medicines for 4 days and told that if I did not get well soon and felt poorly even after 4 days, I would visit a Pulmonologist or a chest specialist in layman’s terms.
On day four of me taking medicines for my allergies, I fell so ill that I was taken to hospital in an emergency because I couldn’t breathe and was about to faint. So they gave me oxygen, and I was nebulised and injected again. The doctor on duty set an appointment with the chest specialist for the 7th and asked me to visit him as soon as possible. I was kept at the hospital overnight because I was there till 4 AM anyway, getting nebulised. In the evening, I was discharged, and as soon as that happened, my mum slipped and fell so badly that she fractured her foot. I was running from my hospital room to the Radiology department in the basement, worried for my mum and feeling sick, pushing her to Radiology for her X-Ray scans.
Afterwards, I took her to the Emergency Department. The doctor viewed her scans but gave a lukewarm response and not what I was looking forward to. Such unprofessionalism, seriously? I expected the doctor to bandage my mum’s foot because there was heavy swelling, and I couldn’t even walk. She was in a wheelchair. Anyway, the doctor looked uninterested, and I got furious at her demeanour. Still, I just pushed mum out of the Emergency Ward because I did not want to create a fight and aggravate things. Took her to the basement again, and we waited for my turn to get to see the Pulmonologist.
When I went inside and saw him, I wanted my mum to come along with me. However, she was in a wheelchair, and I couldn’t push it. So, I grabbed her, helped her up and then made her walk inside with me, leaving the wheelchair right outside the door. Went inside and sat on the stool next to the doctor. The specialist examined my breathing with his stethoscope and then saw my tongue. I think he saw my tonsils too. I asked a few questions and immediately said I had severe dust allergies and a lung infection. OH, BLOODY GREAT. I was so thrilled to hear that! Not. Wrote a whole list of medicines for me to take while I am in Lahore and until I get better and use an inhaler.
Something else he told me to do until I get better. He asked me to wear a face mask while going outside to stay away from dust and pollution. When I heard him, I thought he must be joking. Me! Wear a face mask? Seriously? I asked him if he was serious, and he said one hundred per cent. So, with a sad face and sulking, I got out of the room, helping my limping mum to the wheelchair. So sat her on it, pushed her to the lift, and went to the hospital pharmacy. Got my medicines and then, yes, a face mask.
Since I would be too embarrassed to be seen in public in a face mask, I would not go out in the crowd. Simple right? Just stay at home! No need to use a face mask. Won’t be subjected to dust and pollution. However, one fine day, mum had to go to Moon Market, and since no one else was going with her and she didn’t want to go along with the driver, I HAD to wear the face mask and go with her. I can’t even begin to explain how badly people stared at me, wearing that mask. I hid my face; I stared downwards and wouldn’t even look at the sold things. Mum got a bit annoyed, but I couldn’t help it. I felt so embarrassed to be wearing a face mask and everyone staring at me. I felt like a highly sick person and a helpless being. The kind of person that people bully is what I thought.
I got humiliated enough and then asked mum if she was done shopping. She said we could go, and I returned to the car and sat inside. Took off the face mask and threw it aside. What a relief? I don’t want to look sick and helpless. I want to look healthy and happy. That experience at Moon Market was an eye-opener. I thanked God that mine was temporary dust allergies, and I’ll get better, plus I won’t have to worry about them once I am back in Dubai. What about those people who have to wear a face mask when they go out? That’s seriously sad. Just hope Lahore doesn’t give me any more sickness or shocks.