FALL-en

The leaves outside shine yellow, offset by a deep grey sky. There's a cold wind blowing and leaves tumble, fall, rise up in the drift and settle down again. Here, the seasons march so distinctly and purposefully into one another. Each season is so well defined and makes its presence felt in all its hues and shades. Fall is however, my favourite of them all. 

When the schools reopen after the summer, when the rush in the metro makes me groan, when the fun seems to wind up after a busy summer and things seem to settle slowly into a rhythm, that's autumn to me. Its when I dust out my long boots, when my scarfs line the inside of the closet door, when I lock horns with my daughter about the wearing a hat or the thick fleece leggings. Its when the fingers suddenly go chilly after a short walk or the wind reddens the cheeks. When the makeup I wear does not puddle under my eyes and when I burrough down deep into my turtleneck as I brave the walk to work. 
Its when the festivals of home are celebrated with a much-anticipated gusto, its when the excitement of Halloween hangs in the air. Its potluck suppers, apple pie,  gossip and comforting wine, or curling up with a blanket on the couch to watch something really old on the telly.

Its watching the squirrels rushing to stock up for the cold, its crunching the leaves as I walk back home, its taking in the fresh gulps of air after spending the day in a heated office and its the smell of spiced pumpkin latte wafting from the cafe. Its craving soups and stews and warm cuddles, its turning up the oven as the lasagna bubbles away, Its grey one day, brilliant sunshine the next, its deep dark evenings and making plans for the winter. Its the feeling of slowing down, and gathering pace all at once. Its the feeling of letting go, of settling down, of starting anew and I Fall in love with this season all over again.

That gut feeling

May 27th, 2015, 5pm, My ma is here from India, visiting for the summer, helping me help Tia during her exams. Its a bright beautiful Wednesday evening. I come home from work to find my mother sitting on the balcony chair, looking white as a sheet. She is relieved to see me, opens the door, does not greet Tia, which is highly unusual and just lays down saying she is unwell. I don't ever remember seeing her like this. She's always taking care of others, masking her own discomfort. I worry, take her temperature, ask her what's wrong. She thinks its indigestion, says she's getting tingling in her arms and legs and her urine output has been negligible all day.

I call my husband, call my doctor friend Arpita to run her symptoms through her. When i don't see any change, I call my dad in India. He's not in Delhi, he's in Bangalore. He thinks, its indigestion too, but something gnaws at me, telling me its something more. Maybe I should take her to the ER just to reassure myself? I toy with this question a hundred times in 10 mins. I know, the wait time at the ER is unpredictable, I know as a visitor to Canada, it will be an very expensive trip if it is indeed something like indigestion, but i can't come to a decision.

I wait for my husband. I can't concentrate on anything. I barely listen to my daughter, barely look at her homework. Ma starts vomiting now, gut wrenching vomit and she's on the bathroom floor. I help her up, make her drink water and try to make her comfortable as i look for the hospital's phone number. She has her insurance papers out. I wonder why?
Yogi arrives, I toy again and again with the merits of the decision to take her to the hospital. I call my dad again, call my friend again. My mind is not convinced that its indigestion, fatigue or something like that. I have never seen ma like this, suffering, barely able to open her eyes, vomiting and shaking. At 7.30 pm, Yogi, Tia and I eat something that I just cant remember making or eating. I called Info Sante the health helpline in Quebec. I wait 20 mins and reach a French speaking nurse. I ask for an English speaking nurse and i am put on hold. The minutes tick by. Exasperated I hang up. I am so frustrated. I just want mommy to feel better. I want to make her better myself.

I try again in 10 mins and this time, Ma has almost stopped speaking or responding to my questions by now.I reach an English speaking nurse. I run ma's symptoms though her and she tells me in no uncertain terms to take ma to the Emergency.

I pick up my purse, her insurance papers, pack a blanket, a jacket for ma, I hold her hand as she makes her way down the stairs, In the dark, she makes her way to the garage and the last thing she says as I'm helping her down the stairs is "Have you eaten?" I give her an irritated reply. 

Its barely a 2 minute drive to the Emergency. We pull up at the Jewish Hospital and help ma onto a wheelchair. Yogi drives off with Tia. 

Ma goes even whiter, her eyes get glassy and she starts shaking uncontrollably. She makes these guttural sounds and I ask the security guard for a container in case she throws up again. Our number is 176. We have 10 people ahead of us. Ma continues to shake horribly. I am in tears. I stroke her head, make her lean on me. I ask the nurse again if someone could look at her since she is deteriorating very fast.
The nurse senses it, someone comes to take her, they try to take her pressure but she is far away, shaking more and her head is rolling back. Its a flurry of movements now..we are running down the corridor, there are people waiting in a cubicle and an army of people descend on ma. Stripping off her clothes, getting IVs into her hand and I hear the words "she is seizing" over and over again.

The resident doctor asks me what happened and i try and make some sense of it...i can barely speak. I am screaming and panicking too, so much so that i am being forced out of the ER. I tell them, I can't go, can't leave her...but she is coding. Its something out of the medical drama's I see on TV. This can't be real, can't be happening to us. They try to revive her and there is so much activity around her that I can barely see.. I plead with them to let me stay, I promise to stay calm. I can't think, my mind is blank. The orderly is mad at me. He says I am not helping and my panic is disturbing the doctors from doing the best for her. He escorts me out, promising me that someone will come to me as soon as they can. Then, the doors swing shut. I am alone, in a brightly lit corridor, Its 8.45 pm and i am paralysed with fear, wondering if I am ever going to see my ma again.