The day is 12th of August 2001.I woke up early having slept soundly from about 10.30 the previous night. Since most of the arrangements had been taken care of beforehand, by wapa’s (wapa = my father) meticulous planning and active effort of the immediate family, I wandered around aimlessly for about an hour, consuming tea, checking out the room and doing similar odd jobs.
The accident happened in the bathroom. The commode suddenly decided to give way under me (letting me down rather badly in the process) but I managed to freeze in a sort of squatting/sitting position. However it was not finished with me yet. A rather large segment of ceramic with a razor sharp edge sliced through the rear portion of my left lower calf causing a deep cut. We were to later learn that my Achilles tendon had been severed (75%. not a complete cut which we were told is a good thing) rather badly. I did not feel much pain at the time nor did I think it was serious.
I knew that Shiyam machan (he is my brother in law – my younger sister’s hubby and a doctor by profession) was about to depart to have the mapullai (bridegroom in tamil) car washed before Hilmy and Mujahidh decorated it. I called out to wapa who had heard the commotion (commode in motion?) and asked him to stall Shiyam machan. Wapa asked if I was injured and called Shiyam machan as well.
Shiyam machan had a look, saw the tendon cut and knew the score immediately. Umma was also at the scene by this time in half-faint, half stupor (and that sort of helped me keep my cool) and almost sitting on the ground. First aid was administered. Shiyam machan called his BIL and found out that I had to be taken to Peradeniya Hospital, the Kandy Hospital being closed for cases like mine as it was a Sunday. So we (Shiyam machan, Salji and self) got into Shiyam machan’s style="mso-spacerun: yes"> car (still unwashed and undecorated) and proceeded to the Peradeniya Hospital.
Shiyam machans help was invaluable. Soon we were shown to a doctor to whom the situ was explained. When I mentioned that I was to marry on that day, he said he’d been invited, too. This was Dr Jameel, a relation of my bride Ruzmina (This is where I say “small world”). Salji had expressed some concern to Shiyam machan re the good doctor letting the cat out of the bag at that point. Shiyam machan thought it unlikely.
Soon I was in a surgical ward, feeling like an undiscovered island, and about to be explored on. I was given local anesthetic injections all around the wound. The wound was washed thoroughly with saline water. And the doctors proceeded to explore. The initial diagnosis was that the wound was superficial but as the explorers dug deeper they unearthed the cut in the tendon. At that point the cut seemed only 25-50% deep.
The surgeon, Dr Lamawansa, was consulted and he had some style="mso-spacerun: yes"> very solid advice. I had only two such tendons. One was on my right leg and the injured one was on my left. But I could have any number of weddings. If I were to choose between the two I should choose my tendon. The problem could become chronic. But he would do everything to try to send me to the ceremony.
I was then taken to the OR then sent back to the surgical ward (on some red tape concerning dress) where they put me into a bed contrary to Dr L’s instructions. Then he saw me and after some minor reprimands had me wheeled back to the OR with cap and a cover on the other leg. Now this is the most emotionally intense part in the whole proceeding.
Imagine lying on a blanketed metal stretcher/trolley. Looking up at the ceiling with its various steel rods and analogous conduits all dark and contrasting deeply with the yellow of the hospital paint. Being wheeled at what seemed to be a path along these conduits. An eerie rumble of the castor-wheels against the cement floor. Sharp turns - along the conduits once again. And suddenly you have green-coated medics with white face-masks looking down at you with bulging eyes. A high powered light in your eyes.
Dr Lamawansa kept talking to me as the operation progressed. I was given painkillers orally (I already had been given an anti-tetanus injection in the surgery ward) more local anesthetic injections around the wound and Dr Lamawansa was on his own grounds after that.
Basically, the wound was washed, the tendon stitched together, more stitches placed on the outside skin, the wound dressed and everything covered by an impressive plaster of paris cast! But that is just the outline and I am sure a lot of skill and application went into each stage.
At the end of the operation Dr Lamawansa asked the staff to wheel me directly to the vehicle and not to the ward. Salji signed my discharge sheet and I was wheeled to the exit. Machan had decided to use the waiting time productively by purchasing a shoulder crutch for me. I was waiting style="mso-spacerun: yes"> (seated) at the main entrance and Salji making a call home from a booth when Mohideen Uncle (Ruzmina’s dad’s bro) walked in with Dr Jameel (salji’s instincts proved right after all). A decision had to be taken on whether I should go directly to the Suisse hotel and be dressed up or whether to go home and be dressed there and come back. By this time Shiyam machan had returned and we decided to go home and come back since the time was still around 11.30 am.
Shiyam machan drove back while describing the treatment I was to be given. An antibiotic injections was due every six hours and I had a cannula - a tube inserted into a vein - still on at my left wrist. The injections were to be administered through this.
I arrived at home and a crowd had already gathered, a groom missing on his wedding day is a bit difficult to explain, I guess. I couldn’t climb stairs so I was installed into thangachi’s old room. I telephoned Ruzmina on Rafi’s mobile, who was also in a state of shock, Rafi having already told her of my plight, and spoke to her. I also called Sumedha and told him to keep my friends alert.
I had a breakfast of potatoes and bread, umma having noticed that I needed some food. Arooz mama shaved me, and dressed me and did his best to keep my spirits high. He did a very good job too. Of course one foot had to be left open. Efforts by Riyaz mama later to cover the wound with a sock did not succeed.
My thoppi was put by wapa, fathiha recited, dua recited (Gazzali moulavi and Sheriffdeen master - the Registrar- had also materialized while I was fitted out with the wedding kit; both of them by the way clad in sarongs as pointed out to me by Ruzmina later) and I limped to the car and , uncharacteristic to the mapullai but necessitated by the situ, got style="mso-spacerun: yes"> into the front seat - this was to confuse the photographer later when style="mso-spacerun: yes"> we arrived at the hall - he thought Salji was the protagonist and Salji wasted no time in correcting him.
Suisse hotel has two entrances. On parking outside the main entrance, with friends peeping in, Sumedha, Aravindan and Prabath in particular (they knew) we decided that the other entrance would be easier. So off we went round to the other entrance. I got out with my crutches - I still hadn’t figured out how to use em properly - and shuffled my style="mso-spacerun: yes"> way in ably assisted by my many new BILs and relatives.
The rest of the occasion is a bit blurred in my memory but since everyone was there I’m sure you’d have heard it but for the record here is what I remember:
First we went to the lobby for the registration ceremony. Gazzaly Moulavi did the honours and Ruzmina was given to me by her daddy. I had to Eytrukondayn and Oppukondayn. After which Manazir’s Pa - the Registrar - pushed a bunch of blank forms under me and, not wanting to style="mso-spacerun: yes"> create another commotion, I signed them all. These were further signed by my FIL and then the Witnesses, whose parents, for some obscure style="mso-spacerun: yes"> reason, had chosen identical names (the Zubair Uncles). At some stage in the proceedings I gave away the mahar malai and received a silver wedding ring.
Dua was recited but the sermon was not given as we were a bit late. But I have to add that with all the delay and what-not the function was delayed by only one hour (scheduled for 12.45 but started at 1.45).
Then I hobbled to the throne, being covered by my BILs much to the dismay of the video-grapher who was screaming his head off. On reaching the throne I said salaams to the bride, she was given to me by her HAIR by her father, I put the savadi around her neck and the ring on her style="mso-spacerun: yes"> right wedding finger (I am not sure of the order). Then we sat down. For good.
Thangachi did the arlathis although we did not spit into it. Then the guests started coming and talking to us. Gifts were bestowed on the bride. Etc
The rest of the function went quite smoothly with me smiling so hard that my cheeks ached for hours afterwards. I was afraid that if I smiled any harder that my lips would meet on the other side of my head and the top of my head would come off. Ruzmina also kept her composure.
All the photos excepet were taken with us sitting down. I must also say that the bride is pretty tall and my mapullai thoppi saved the day.
I must also say that Shiyam machan’s help on that day was crucial. Without him there would not have been a function. He has also been taking care of me since then (injections at 12.30 in the night and 6.30 in the morning for example for the first few days), putting leave when I am due at the hospital. Nice to have a BIL like that. Other than that everyone has been very sympathetic and understanding (even my friends who would laugh at anything), and helpful, Nice to have a family like that too.