Madam Sangeetha

Madam Sangeetha (not her real name) was my second roommate at the hospital.  Aged 36 with one son after 10 years of marriage, she was an employee of UMW.  Her husband was a small thin man with a stony expression.

She made an appearance at about 10 in the morning, disappeared for a couple of hours, then returned for lunch. Yes.  More Bollywood movies.

At about 2 in the afternoon, the doctor appeared at her bedside.

"So, Sangeetha.  What's your decision?", asked the good doctor.

"I don't know la, doctor.  50-50!" chirped Sangeetha.

"Well, Sangeetha.  You know what it is.  You should get those stones removed.  Just because they're not causing you any pain now shouldn't be a reason not to do anything about it", continued the doctor.  "In any case, you don't know when the pain may come again."

"I think I'll decide when the next pain comes.  Maybe it won't come?

"How can you be sure?  I know people are talking about herbal remedies for gallstones.  I can guarantee you.  There is no cure for gallstones.  If there is, I will be the first person to make money out of it," the doctor chuckled.

The patient was silent.

"So, what's your decision?  You should do it now while I'm here.  Who knows?  In two weeks time, I may not be here to help you.  God put me here to help people."

"I don't know la, doctor. 50-50!"

This went on for close to half an hour.  The patient remained indecisive.  Her husband remained silent and the good doctor kept up with the persuasion, each time repeating more of the same.  By including God in his plans, he came across as a pious Christian, or so I thought, but who am I to judge?

Still, there weren't any decisions to be made that day.  The doctor left. The patient started calling up her contacts.  They spoke at length in that Bollywood lingua franca I was talking about in a previous post.  Time for my forty winks.

Sangeetha was gone when I woke up.  Her dinner grew cold.  Curiosity got the better of me.

"What happened to the lady on the next bed?"  I asked one of the attending nurses.

"Oh, she's on Home Leave," came the curt reply.

Home Leave?  I've heard of Emergency Leave, Annual Leave and Sick Leave.  I've also heard of Maternity Leave.  But, what exactly is Home Leave?

Half an hour before midnight, Sangeetha reappeared with a baggage, without an explanation. Well, it isn't like she owed me one but an explanation would have been nice.

I slept well that night.

By morning, Sangeetha was up bright and early. She popped over for a little chat.  Home Leave, according to Sangeetha was some sort of time-off from the hospital bed. It was a concept used in medical insurance and patients are compelled to check into the hospital before midnight for any claims to become legitimate.

Or some such thing.

Sangeetha made her decision that morning.  She checked out.