We habitually suffer from a delusion that nothing adverse can affect us, misfortunes visit others. How wrong and self-consoling we are! The reality of life is actually contrary to this our firmly held conviction.

The year has been a horrible one for almost all of us. People have been affected with the COVID-19  virus in hordes and one keeps hearing of deaths with disconcerting regularity. A pall of gloom and despair has pervaded all over. Notwithstanding the prevailing situation, I had been pretty confident my wife and I would be safe, secure in the knowledge that we had taken all precautions and religiously followed the COVID protocol. Like Alexander Selkirk, who had spent four years of his life as a castaway, having been forcibly marooned on an uninhabited island in the Pacific, we too , of our own volition, isolated ourselves from the outside world. This was  possible owing to the tremendous support we have received from our domestic helps, who have come to work and performed the daily chores strictly following COVID norms, like wearing double masks, maintaining physical distance, regular sanitisation of the hands, wearing freshly washed clothes for work. Yet, the inevitable struck us surreptitiously.

I felt a wee bit feverish on the evening of the 19^th. So did Lipika. My body temperature rose further the next day. Alarmingly, the fever did not  show any signs of abatement. I was at my wit’s end, not knowing what to do. Realizing my helplessness, my wife, who is made of sterner stuff, decided to take control and do the needful. It is needless to say that my surrender to her authority was instant and complete, like Bertie Wooster’s to Jeeves in a difficult situation. My wife rose to the occasion and swung into action right away and arranged RT-PCR tests for us the following morning. We got the results in the evening. Both of us, to our dismay, were found positive. My wife there and then decided we should not procrastinate but opt for immediate hospitalisation, as home treatment under proper medical advice would not be possible without the help of trained care-givers, who were difficult to find at short notice.

On 22^nd morning, my wife rang up Woodlands and Apollo Gleneagles Hospitals, her former workplaces, and enquired about the availability of beds. She was told by her erstwhile colleagues that both the hospitals were chock-a-block with corona patients and that no bed could be spared for us.  Lipika is not the type to give up easily. She then phoned one of my cousins, a prominent public figure, and narrated our predicament to him. He assured her of all help . He wasted no time and got in touch with a legal luminary with considerable clout, who, in no time arranged two beds for us at a large New Town hospital. Initially I was against any string-pulling to achieve our goal, as I thought it was improper. Hundreds of people were running from pillar to post for the coveted hospital beds, but without success. Eventually I had to succumb to pressure from my near and dear ones. Consequently, we took the necessary preparation to shift to the hospital in the evening. When an ambulance, arranged by our well-wishers, came to pick us up, I do not know why the opening lines of the metaphysical poet, John Donne’s immortal poem, “Death Be Not Proud’ emerged from my subconscious mind suddenly and emboldened me to face reality with courage and conviction.

We reached the hospital with a lot of trepidation. Immediately thereafter, we had to undergo a series of tests. By the time the testing process was completed, it was past midnight. We were then wheeled to a COVID ward. The next day, the 23^rd of April, acceding to our repeated fervent requests, the authorities shifted us to a well-lit, spacious cabin with an attached wash room, literally, in Thomas Hardy’s words, “Far from the Madding Crowd”.

We were at the hospital for fourteen days. Our stay was comfortable and we had no reason to complain about anything. Only the food, though plentiful and nutritious, was not to our liking, primarily because of the style of cooking.

Before I conclude, I feel that it is incumbent upon me  to write a few words of appreciation about the attending doctors, nurses and housekeeping staff. The general perception about doctors is  not favourable. They are considered to be impersonal, insensitive and avaricious. For trifling reasons they are harassed and, even on occasions, seemingly for neglect and lack of compassion. How selfish, inconsiderate and unjust we are. During our stay there, we have had the opportunity to observe the doctors, nurses and housekeeping staff, performing their respective duties diligently. How difficult it is for them to do so, wearing uncomfortable PPE suits. Since the outbreak, the doctors have been fighting relentlessly to bring it under control. Their contribution is immense. From my personal experience, I can say without any hesitation that the doctors attending on us were very caring and concerned. The nurses and the housekeeping staff were equally dedicated and considerate, pandering to the whims of the patients with a smile. Patients are at times unreasonable and demanding. My esteem of the medical fraternity has now, because of my close observation, gone up considerably.

To cut a long story short, we were fully cured, discharged from the hospital on the 4^th of May. Prior to our departure, the doctors bade us farewell. The nurses and the housekeeping staff, who had in this fortnight become emotionally attached to us, took our cell phone numbers and promised to keep in touch.