The longest four hours of my life

By Adharv Chaitanya

My mother died about five years back. It was quite sudden. She didn’t wake up from her sleep. Just like that she was gone.

My father, now nearing 80, tried to cope with her demise. Things were more or less fine, till my father felt uneasy while having lunch one day. My wife called me immediately and I rushed home from office. But, by the time I got home in the maddening Bengaluru traffic, my father was feeling much better. He felt that it could be due to ‘gas’ in his stomach.

I wanted to take him to hospital for check up, but he said no. He asked me to go back to work.

Two days later, again he felt uneasy. He called my wife who had stepped out to purchase vegetables. She came home to find him sweating. She called me and also took the decision to call an ambulance from the nearest hospital.

Even as I was on my way, my father was rushed into the Emergency. By the time I reached the hospital, the doctors had already carried out tests and said that he was suffering from a heart ailment.

The attending cardiologist said that he needs to immediately undergo cardiac surgery. He said that the surgery was important to save his life.

The heart surgery was scheduled for the next day. The medicines had helped him relax and he was now breathing normally and he was also not complaining of chest pain.

I asked my wife to head home and I stayed back at the hospital.

When all the visitors had left, the hospital became eerily quiet. It was pin drop silence. I could practically hear my heart beat. All the time I worried about what would happen tomorrow. It was going to be a risky operation as he was nearing 80. But, that risk had to be taken.

The whole night I was awake. I tried to get my sleep. But, sleep eluded me. I saw other worried relatives and that made me anxious.

The day broke at 5.30 am and the hustle and bustle in the hospital slowly came back. My father was prepared for the heart surgery. I had already signed the papers for his surgery the night before. He was going to be the first to be operated upon that day.

The cardiologist again explained to me the risk involved.

When my father was wheeled into the operation theatre, my anxiety returned with a vengeance. I became restless and could barely focus on anything.

All the time I worried about this – I had lost my mother to heart failure and now my father too was facing a similar health issue. It was a nightmare.

I nervously sat in the waiting room. My wife too joined me.

Those four hours in the waiting room were the longest I had ever felt. It felt as if time was not moving at all. All sorts of thoughts crossed my mind. The wait was a long one as it was a complicated surgery.

Finally, after four hours the surgeon informed us that the operation was successful and we could meet him after a while. I heaved a sigh of relief and slumped into a chair.

The long wait had drained me completely. After a while, I took a peep at my father and then told my wife that I was now going home.

While driving home, I felt tired. I reached home and saw the empty room of my father. Fortunately, he would be back in a few days and things would be back to normal. But, what if things had not panned out that way. I sat for a few minutes on my father’s bed and then went to my room.

After a few days, my father was home. In a fortnight after that, he was back to his usual self, going for his morning and evening stroll.

However, I still remember those four hours at the waiting room when time barely inched forward. It was miserable.

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