There were suggestions that I can be discharged. The doctors also said that there should be no problem in taking me home and physiotherapy can be continued at home. (Read : don't waste your money.)
I had been admitted to the hospital for six months. Before my stroke, I had never stayed in a hospital, so I sure had made up for lost time. At first I was enthusiastic about returning home but as the date of discharge drew closer, I began to worry whether Jaya and a new nurse will be able to handle any problems that may arise. (What problems? I don't know.)
The journey home was uncomfortable. Having stayed inside a hospital for so long, the road travel got on my nerves- the noise, smoke, ambulance siren, etc made me nervous. When we reached home and my stretcher was brought out of the ambulance, I could see some heads peeping out of various balconies. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the blue sky above. It helped that I was not wearing my glasses so I could not see anybody clearly. I was relieved when I finally disappeared inside the building.
Our house was on the second floor and the building had no lift. My stretcher was carried up by four people. It was the most harrowing journey I have ever had. With every pitch and roll of the stretcher I felt as if I would roll off into an abyss. I cried out. No sound came. I was afraid of putting more effort into producing sound because it might have caused severe cough which might have been hazardous on an unstable stretcher. I don't know why I did not get a few heart attacks by the time I reached the second floor.
It was an emotional entry into the house. The walls seemed much darker than what I remembered. Perhaps I had got used to a lighter shade at the hospital. The first thing I did when I entered my room was to inspect the railings on my bed. My heart was still racing after my frightening journey up the stairs.
Over the next few days I slowly got used to my new old surroundings.