Trauma

I had to go for surgery the other day. Minor surgery is what all the doctors told me. 10 stitches. It may be minor to the medical profession but it was a major incident in my otherwise healthy life. It was my first, and hopefully last, surgery.

I woke up from surgery crying. Not because I was in pain (I always thought I had a low tolerance for pain but it turns out that my pain tolerance is quite high), but because I was such a burden to my parents who were not only worried about me, but also had to accompany me in the hospital. Because healthy 36 year olds do not go for surgery. Because I am the last person to go to the doctor, let alone the hospital, and now I had undergone the worst kind of invasion to my body. Because I don't want this. Because it was forced upon me. Because I am forced to undergo the very thing that I loathe and hate the most. Because my nightmare came true. Because I don't deserve this. Because I am good. And just because.

I read in a book about Buddhism that the best 'protection' one can give oneself is thinking good and doing good. I admit I am not perfect, but I can't think of a single incident I did that was so bad, to make me deserve this. My rational mind will not accept such flimsy excuses such as "these things happen" or "it could've been worse". My understanding of karma tells me that it should not have happened in the first place. Whatever else that depressed me, I always took pride in my health and physical strength. And now even that has gone out the window.

I refused to stay in hospital for "observation". I refused to be moved around in a wheelchair. I refused unnecessary medication. Not because I'm a difficult patient. Because I needed to know that I was still strong. That I still have some control over my own body. 

And now, as I wait for my physical wounds  to heal, mentally I am scarred, probably for life, because although I know I may never know the answer, I will always wonder why I had to go through this. Why, why, why.