The exact position of my back, which was operated upon,(Picture).
Ravi Speaks:
My thoughts occasionally return to situations where one wants to avoid being reminded of the traumatic events from the past. In particular, when you were the one who went through the pain yourself. I was residing in “Jullaka-Mohalla” Jammu with my mother and my younger sister in a modest home. Since our mother raised us alone at the time, we didn’t have any older men around. Yes, I was only eleven when I discovered I had a little pimple on my back in the middle, close to the upper lumber. I was OK with it up until the point where it began to bother me in the form of an agonizing itch on my back, which I used to actually rub with the assistance of the brush but which still persisted. So, I was on the verge of beginning this practice of daily daytime back scratching with the brush. I used to scratch my back to feel the cool-relieving sensation.
Initially it was bearable, and I never considered that I might eventually need to see a doctor about it. My mother drove me to a general practitioner in Jammu that was close to our home. After his examination, he just informed my mother that it was nothing more than a little boil that would go away in a few days with some medication. He also advised me to exercise some forbearance if I felt the need to scratch. I was just finishing my fifth grade studies when the doctor gave his recommendation, and I nodded in agreement.
The routine daily routines continued, and I accepted it as a part of my life, assuming that it will be removed from my back without giving it much thought. After using the medication for a few days, I saw no improvement in the itch or even a further reduction in size.
I walked to a different room in my home in Jammu and stripped off my shirt in front of the mirror of the almirah. I then tried to reach the area with the aid of one hand and began massaging it vigorously with the brush-cleaner. One day I felt a horrible itching again on the same pimple-like structure. I noticed that I had massaged it too hard, causing it to bleed and continue bleeding. Without telling anyone, I went to the restroom and assumed it might stop if I cleaned the back with cold water. Being so young, I also got the impression that if my mother learned about the bleeding, she would be deeply upset and would perhaps give me a harsh reprimand.
After cleaning my back with a towel, I stepped out with a shirt over it and pretended to be normal by engaging in everyday activities. I didn’t know at the time, though, that I was still bleeding from the back, and the entire garment was covered in the substance. All of a sudden, someone saw it, and word spread throughout the house. I was promptly driven back to the same mohalla-based doctor. After noticing this, he attempted to treat the same pimple that I had vigorously brushed and caused to crack.He initially washed and cleaned it before using SUMAG – yellow sort of cream and bandaging the entire part. He advised my mother to keep me away from water and to stop taking baths for a few days. Everything went smoothly after I got back home; there was no more blood, and the bandaged area was also dry.
The following day, I went to school and participated in my regular choir in this manner for several days. The bandage was taken off in between by the same doctor, and it was once more maintained dry and open. After about a week, I had the unbearable itching in this area once more. I first refrained from using any brushes or even just personally scratching the back, but after a while the itching got intolerable and I had to touch this area once more to receive some comfort. Unexpectedly, the same area began bleeding once more, and it flowed significantly this time. Since the GP was not helping, my mum became quite concerned about what she should do to get it treated.
She was working as a teacher at a Christian school on Residency Road in Jammu at the time (1972), and the school’s principal was also a priest in the city’s sole Catholic church. Father Aziz-William is his full name. She had contacted him and mentioned Dr. William Ribeiro, a Christian physician. The father told us to meet him at the SMGS Hospital since he knew him well. After examining me and running some tests, he instructed my mother to have me brought to the hospital right away. Since he believed it had already spread its roots deeply into the vertebral column and if further delay was made, there was a possibility that the roots could get penetrated into the spinal cord, which could be very complicated later, he had advised immediate surgery for the removal of that pimple-like structure.
I was so admitted to the hospital the next day, and the procedure took a few hours. After the operation, by the time I regained consciousness in the evening, I saw myself resting on a bed in the general ward of the surgery department. I simply wanted to move but was unable to do so and felt as though my body’s back was simply absent. All of it became desensitised, and it wasn’t until the morning of the next day that I began to have severe back pain as a result of my body gradually adjusting to the absence of the medication’s effects.Strong painkillers and anti-inflammatories were having less of an effect, and the sensation of excruciating agony was taking centre stage. After spending almost another four days in the ward, I was eventually released from the hospital with strict instructions to return for dressing changes and check-ups every two days. I recalled having missed at least three weeks of school because I had been so weak. The same physician, Dr. William Ribeiro, contacted me one morning during my recuperation time to check on me after I had my rear bandaged off. He also instructed the assistant to remove my sutures.He explained to my mother that day that if there had been any additional delay, things would have been even more difficult since the roots had penetrated the vertebral column deeply and there was a chance that they may have impacted the spinal cord, which happily had not occurred. The surgery’s prompt intervention had prevented any future complications for me at that time. My mother exhaled a breath of relief and gave thanks to God Almighty for what He had done at the appropriate moment.
Sometimes, His prompt acts are what allow for miraculous savings, and a small man suddenly recognizes the strength of God Almighty, without whom he is nothing.
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