“She will be fine … don’t panic”
It was 11pm and she could feel Shayra’s hands cool down, her pulse racing, her face pale with fear as she looked through the glass to see Linda. Doctors were examining her, exchanging medical terms and initiating treatment. From what little I understood about the medications, we knew that it was a case of acute food poisoning.
It reminded me of a piece of news I read the other day. A new study by the Institute of Hotel Management, Catering and Nutrition, Pusa revealed high fecal contamination in junk foods, specifically in West and Central Delhi. The study showed extremely high volumes of E. coli bacteria in street foods, leading to serious infections. The numbers are not very convincing in other parts of the country, either.
A drop trickled down the syringe and as it made its way into her son’s body, Shayra scratched the palm of my hand in horror and pain. That’s how mothers are and I could feel all the anxiety I was going through.
Linda had been complaining of stomach cramps for the past few days and, as is the general rule, we love to diagnose such complaints at home. From a bitter Ayurvedic tonic straight from Grandma’s kitchen to the pill suggested by the pharmacy next door, we tried everything before consulting a specialist. It was no different with Shayra, who was juggling two worlds, one from the corporate eco-space and the other from being a single mother of a five-year-old daughter. It was only late today when Linda broke down in pain that Shayra realized the seriousness and took her to the nearby clinic.
“We have given him an IV for pain relief and drips to stabilize the condition. He needs rest and a plate of healthy meals for the next week.”
The medics had done their job, leaving us to reflect on what the whole girl might have eaten in the past week. Burgers, fries, pastries, the list was endless. So where did all the healthy sandwiches and consciously made low-spice noodles go? Shayra anticipated the answers, it had to be the playground adjacent to her apartment or her little girl’s street pet, Browny.
“I’m so tired of her. What else can I do but pack her lunch box early in the morning to avoid all this? Why doesn’t she understand? I can’t see her going through this.”
Shayra murmured between sobs, seeing Linda on the bed with her hands pricked with needles. I could relate to every part of his apprehension, as there was a similar battle with my son every day. While I love the sparkle in his eyes when he gorges himself on a slice of his favorite cheese pizza or twirls that long string of noodles on his fork before slurping it, I’m equally concerned about how he might supplement the nutritional value through other foods. essential in your growing years.
Worry and fear often make me think about launching another business idea; healthy eating plans for children in schools and homes. I’m sure it won’t punch as big a hole in my pocket as buying a drone and having it floating around my son’s head to monitor all the bacteria and viruses it detects on its way home.
Huhhh … is someone listening!
