This Is How I Save My Life by Amy B. Scher

Author:Amy B. Scher
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Gallery Books

6

This Brain Is on Fire

WEEK FIVE

It’s green! Everywhere I look is green. Lush trees. Vibrant flourishing bushes. And a large reservoir with green . . . murky water. But still, it’s green!

We are in Hauz Khas, a large neighborhood a little over a mile from the hospital, but a whole new world. This area can be traced back to the thirteenth century and is scattered with ruins of medieval architecture. At the heart of its centerpiece is a lake. Around the lake are scattered domed tombs of Muslim royalty. Ducks and geese from the reservoir mingle with the tourists who flock here. A group of elementary school–age kids are playing a spirited game of cricket as passersby cheer.

It is on a pleasant Sunday afternoon, under the warm sun, that I and a group of patients have made our way to this hidden sanctuary in the dusty Delhi metropolis, some of us by foot and some by wheelchair. I have no idea how this destination has been under my radar all of this time, but it is the best surprise of my trip thus far. I am in paradise.

I am not a girl who loves roughing it, but I am definitely a girl who loves nature. I grew up by the teal-green ocean in the palm-tree-studded Southern California town of Ventura. Our four-bedroom farm-style house in a middle-class neighborhood was packed with pets of every kind, books, music, and love, perfectly planted among the vibrant orange orchards that became our extended backyard. It was full of mazes that David, Lauren, and I got lost in as kids—and then later as teenagers, where we snuck out to smoke cloves and drink with our friends. As a family, we spent weekends in the nearby Shangri-la town of Ojai, where I was born, surrounded by eight different kinds of emerald-green oak trees. Green is my favorite color and my favorite feeling.

Making our way from the hospital to this glorious mecca, we draw endless stares from locals, and especially children. I am getting accustomed to this, hardly flinching when we weave in and out of dense, pushy crowds, and meet the eyes of people who seem shocked at our presence. Our fair skin is one anomaly in this city, but wheelchairs are virtually a sight unseen. Because of the extreme poverty in India, most disabled people can’t afford a wheelchair, which here costs approximately seventy-five American dollars. Our group has six sets of wheels, and it has not gone unnoticed. If my dad were here with us, I’m pretty sure he’d be offering demonstrations of how wheelchairs work. He loves to engage everyone he can find in every kind of conversation. But he’s not here, because he is stuck in bed a few blocks away at the bed-and-breakfast, in one of his mysterious depressive episodes. It seems that whatever has been stalking him for the past two decades crosses international borders with ease. As usual, there is no identifiable trigger that caused it, no sign as to when it’ll pass.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.