For the 2nd round of chemotherapy, when I got admitted in CMC, I
realised that I had been elevated to the level of a Monk! As Sundar was
keen to know if I have already become mottai, here is a photograph taken five days ago in Vellore by Stan.
First I thought, it was just a spelling mistake that they had written it as Monc. (Only later, when the chemo drugs wore off, did I realise that it was the short form of Medical Oncology, rather than any spiritual title!) Anyway, I thought it is a really good thing to classify all the cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy as Monks, as there are many similarities.
First and foremost is that their lack of interest in keeping any sort of shrubbery in their head and face etc. Though the photograph above shows me with some hair, I am losing them all in rapid pace and I am sure, next time when we meet you will agree that I am a qualified Monk as far as hair goes. (There is one persistent hair inside my right nostril which was bothering me for more than 20 years; I hope the chemo drugs will take care of that stubbon hair too). Bed after bed in the Monc ward was occupied by people with clean shaven heads - men, women and kids too.
Next is our total renunciation of food - even aversion to it. We just eat something to keep the body and soul together - often after getting shouted by the near and dear! Anita had enquired about the taste buds. All I can say is that I would eat anything cooked by Anita without any complaints now! There is only one taste in the world now and that is very close to chewing a denim cloth. Sometimes, the dosa may taste like a fine cotton, but otherwise, almost everything tastes like jeans or jute, depending on the texture.
But, there is one advantage. Someone suggested that fresh Aloe Vera juice is a very good nutritious drink, but it is bitter and tastes horribly! I said, 'ha! bring it in' and gulped it - without my tongue raising any objection whatsoever. So, if any of you want to feed me with any of your new experiments, this is the time. Rush in the supplies, please!
First I thought, it was just a spelling mistake that they had written it as Monc. (Only later, when the chemo drugs wore off, did I realise that it was the short form of Medical Oncology, rather than any spiritual title!) Anyway, I thought it is a really good thing to classify all the cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy as Monks, as there are many similarities.
First and foremost is that their lack of interest in keeping any sort of shrubbery in their head and face etc. Though the photograph above shows me with some hair, I am losing them all in rapid pace and I am sure, next time when we meet you will agree that I am a qualified Monk as far as hair goes. (There is one persistent hair inside my right nostril which was bothering me for more than 20 years; I hope the chemo drugs will take care of that stubbon hair too). Bed after bed in the Monc ward was occupied by people with clean shaven heads - men, women and kids too.
Next is our total renunciation of food - even aversion to it. We just eat something to keep the body and soul together - often after getting shouted by the near and dear! Anita had enquired about the taste buds. All I can say is that I would eat anything cooked by Anita without any complaints now! There is only one taste in the world now and that is very close to chewing a denim cloth. Sometimes, the dosa may taste like a fine cotton, but otherwise, almost everything tastes like jeans or jute, depending on the texture.
But, there is one advantage. Someone suggested that fresh Aloe Vera juice is a very good nutritious drink, but it is bitter and tastes horribly! I said, 'ha! bring it in' and gulped it - without my tongue raising any objection whatsoever. So, if any of you want to feed me with any of your new experiments, this is the time. Rush in the supplies, please!
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