Introduction

There is nothing like dodging a bullet to make you feel so good, that you want to wax philosophical with anyone and everyone. On Tuesday, May 5, 2026, I had gone for a regular checkup to Apollo; everything was just fine, except for a slight issue with the ECG, so they refused to give me a TMT. This led to a cardiology consult and ultimately, on Monday, May 18, 2026, to an angiography and two stents. Now I am back.

I brought along three books to the hospital, assuming I will stay for a couple of days, But by the day I was discharged, I had read (or, reread) all three.
The discharge would take all day; I thought while Priti is taking care of billing and insurance matters, I will enjoy my last few hours of freedom from familial advice. I figured I should spend the day writing. First there was a thank-you note to the nurses; then, a series of Whatsapp notes to various family and friends groups. And now I am collating them here.

Before we begin, I should say that I have many brothers and sisters, and a large number of ‘best friends’ that I have accumulated through the years, from my school, college, or work in various institutions. Some of them will show up here.

A regular checkup

Last year, Dr. Taneja (Urologist, Apollo Hospital, Delhi) suggested, in his gently forceful manner, that everyone should get a comprehensive annual checkup, in a place such as Apollo. They do a more comprehensive checkup than your family doctor, possibly because the tests they order are not colored by your doctor’s past knowledge of your medical history. A year has gone by. My checkup was due.

Samidha (my sister) and I decide to get a checkup together. Everything comes out just fine, except that there is some slight issue with the ECG so I couldn’t get a TMT. This led to a cardiology consult and ultimately to an angiography and two stents.

The books I took to the hospital

My best friend Hartosh suggested I take a P.G. Wodehouse. I chose Pigs have Wings; its a Blandings Castle story, a light read, and stars Galahad (a.k.a. Gally). As PGW says:

A thoroughly mis-spent life had left the Hon. Galahad Threepwood, contrary to the most elementary justice, in what appeared to be perfect, even exuberantly perfect physical condition.

You can see why Gally has been such an inspiration to me, since my own, mis-spent, youth.

I considered selecting a Bhyrappa book. I have so many, and they are just lying there, unread. However, something made me pick Shankar Puneri’s book, Awadheshwari. I should say that I have a large collection of Sahitya Academy Prize winning books (translated into English). Forty books were gifted by my mother on my 40th birthday, and then I added to the collection over the years. I read the first chapter of Awadheshwari. He grabs you by the throat from the first page, and you just cannot stop; but I stopped reading it anyway. It is also a birthday gift from mom. I read her handwritten wishes for me.

The third is Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyaya’s Durgeshnandini. I think I may have read it before. It looked slim and inviting. Its a love story.

The MAMC connection

After the ECG report, the technician gave me a printout and said to show it before the Treadmill Test (TMT). He said the TMT will not happen, because I have an LBBB, a Left Bundle Branch Block. The first thing to do is to call my brother Puggia (actually, his name is Pankaj). He is a surgeon in Las Vegas. I texted him a picture of the ECG and 2d echo (Normal, LVEF: 60%); It was clear we needed a cardiology consult. He texts his friends in Apollo, but both are in surgery at the moment.

We met his friend Dr. Kale (neurosurgeon at Apollo): “You need an electrician”, he tells me, after I show him the offending ECG.

The next day, Dr. Taneja refers me to a distinguished interventional cardiologist, Dr. Pradeep Jain, and gets me an appointment to see him. He advises a Holter test and a CT Angiogram. I have to show him the results of the Holter test before proceeding. The Holter test doesn’t show anything, and we book a CT Angiogram. It turns out that the Angiogram cannot be completed either, since my calcium score is 1779. It indicates a high calcification of arteries. On Friday, May 15th, Dr. Jain suggests an ‘elective’ CT Angiography. What does elective mean? It means there is no emergency, I can take a few days. We fix the first available day, which is the coming Monday.

Dr. Jain told me that with such a calcium score, there is a likelihood of at-least one artery being blocked 70%. In my case, anything is possible, he tells me. There could be no significant blockage, so he can treat the disease with just medications; or blockages, that he can address by placing stents; or, I may require a bypass surgery. Puggia is nervous; a surgeon is kept on standby.

Trust and competency

One thing I learnt by becoming an expert in my own very narrow area, is to respect someone who has high competency. Convince yourself of your doctor’s competency, prior to consulting them. By all means, question the doctor to satisfy your curiosity. If need be, verify anything actionable from what you have learnt from your conversation with chatGPT.

Once you choose a doctor of the calibre and experience of Dr. Jain, there is no question of second-guessing him. I told him to decide what will be in my best interests, and take action accordingly. I trust him. This simplifies decision-making, and reduces anxiety.

***

Dr. Jain had a very interesting, consultative, approach. I enjoyed being on the table while he went about his work. He thought aloud while performing the procedure, answering my questions, showed me what was going on, and asking for advice and validation from the younger cardiologist assisting him. I didn’t bother to interrupt him when he was actually putting stents. I lay very still (that’s my core competency!) and let his commentary take me through what was going on. I could see (on the monitor) how the blood supply improved after each of the two stents he placed.

He came across as very humble, despite his years of experience, and obvious competency and expertise. His assisting physician, and even the anesthesiologist (there to give me some oxygen) felt encouraged to comment on the `good results’ of the procedure.

A Wodehouse story

The first book I read in the CCU was my old favorite: Pigs have wings. One of my nurses was a pretty young woman from Kashmir. Her name was Iqra. I asked her what Iqra meant. She told me: “Read.” We discussed what she read; she mentioned a few authors, but said now due to her medical studies she gets less time to read general books. She had grown up reading Ghalib. I suggested that perhaps she can try Jeffrey Archer’s short stories—they are short and witty. Later she picked up my Wodehouse. “Is this a funny story? “, she asked. “Yes,” I replied, and gifted the book to her. I suggest she should read the first 50 pages before she decides whether she likes it or not. And then there were more nurses asking for book suggestions from me.

***

It seems that I am as popular with the nurses as Daddy was! The next morning a couple of nurses make the tray trolley of my room their standing desk, watch me read while they do their work, and chat with me from time to time.

Does caring imply love?

The nursing staff, and in fact everyone in Apollo, were supremely caring. They were unfailingly polite even when I was crabby, and gentle and loving.

One of the books I read (Bankim’s Durgeshnandini) has very nice, non-intersecting, descriptions of the beauty of three different women, one of whom—the main heroine—falls in love with the hero while tending to his wounds. Her beauty derived from her being a ministering angel. Perhaps due to these descriptions, I was aware of the beauty of the ministering angels around me.

The nursing staff is no longer dominated by Mallus. There were people from all over, including the North-East; there were men too: my nurse one day was from Manipur; he studied in Bangalore and now works in Delhi. He’s learning Hindi because patients expect them to know Hindi. One day I was assigned a giggly youngster (again from somewhere in the North-East) who spoke with a charming accent, with sentences with long drawn out words: Unnnnclee, Khaaaana khaaega abhiiii. I have mentioned the Kashmiri nurses: to them Hindi comes easily: they speak in Urdu, which is the same. The first evening in the CCU, the head nurse kindly fed me the food herself with a spoon, because I wasn’t supposed to sit. She was equally kind in training a new nurse, for whom it was the first day in the job.

Here is the thank you note I wrote to the nurses and doctors when I left the CCU (on 21/5/2026):

Over the last 3 days, I have been so well taken care of by you. Every person here, especially the nurses, is so caring. You communicate this with every action and gesture—your gentle touch, soft voice, positive attitude and smiling face. Your outer beauty is just a reflection of your inner beauty. I feel privileged to have got an opportunity to experience this.

I have felt this from everyone—nurses, doctors, whether students pursuing their super-specialization, or senior consultants—and even the attendants and support staff.

I wish you much happiness and success in this noble profession that seems to so perfectly match your capability.

***

After the aforementioned Wodehouse incident, the care just increased. One nurse in particular (one of Iqra’s friends, also from Kashmir) was not assigned to me, but dropped in repeatedly to wish me, to adjust the monitors on my chest, or whatever. When I showed her the note, she wanted one for just herself!

I felt that caring implies love. Earlier I only thought the converse is true.

However, before you jump to any conclusions, you should know something. One thing that became clear during the investigations is that my heart is made of stone. My calcium score (found during a CT Angiogram) is 1779, when a score of above 300 is considered very high. It indicates a high calcification of arteries.

The Thank You card, written and drawn by Tejasi, which I used here

My college friends

As in everything else in my life, my associations formed in Hindu College played a key role. I asked my best friends, Akshay and Vivek, to be present. I thought with their presence, Priti will first-hand experience the tension relieving humor we college friends take for granted from each other.

Vivek, Akshay, Priti, Ratnakar Bhaiyya and me (clockwise from top-left), just after the procedure, before heading to the CCU

Akshay has been talking to me every day. Due to personal circumstances and having two doctors (and several patients) in the family, Akshay has deep knowledge of the medical infrastructure of Delhi, even surpassing Raj, who in college time had experienced an impressive array of health issues. Akshay is now the go-to person for all matters medical—including mental health—but especially for matters relating to the heart.

Of course, it is Puggia’s advice I follow. But I do hear what Akshay has to say.

***

I tell my college friend, Maneesha Jain, that recently there seems to be a cosmic Jain connection.

My cardiologist’s name is Dr. Pradeep Jain. Recently, I got my house redone by my school friend. His name? Aloc Jain. The aforementioned nurse, who dropped in more than required, the one who wanted her own letter from me. Coincidentally, her last name is also Jain. Clearly, the universe is trying to say something to me. Any ideas what?

***

The right answer, of course, is that everyone thinks I should now go on a veggie, Jain diet. But that is not going to happen. I fixed my diet to make my fatty liver go away. Now I will tune it to make it heart friendly too.

Maneesha took me for a short hike when I last visited San Fransisco. Her family (husband, sister-in-law, etc.) are all into hiking. Perhaps with my improved blood flow, I can dare to join them for a longer hike the next time I visit her.

My school friends

There is another Jain, namely my school friend Piyush, who is also relevant to this experience. We just celebrated his 60th birthday, and he was glowing (i.e., his face appeared less black, as though he had had a skin-whitening facial). Last year, Piyush got his cardiac health checked; and ended up with a stent. A year or so ago, my best friend Jamalabad (Jams) had told me of his own experience. He felt some discomfort, and went and showed to a cardiologist. They did a CT Angiogram and nothing came out; shortly thereafter, he felt something is off (again), and reached the emergency room. This time they did a coronary angiography; he got a stent and then he was fine.

When Jams next visited Delhi, he shared his experiences, and advised me that in his opinion I need an angiography. Jams too was glowing with good health. He told me that a few weeks after his procedure he was running up stairs, which would have made him huff and puff, only a few weeks ago. To be fair, after hearing this, I did experience some twinges in my chest off and on, but they went away soon after he returned to New York.

Now Jamalabad has, starting from our school days, acted like he knows everything, including what all I should do because it is good for me. What is worse is that he has convinced me (over many years) that this may indeed be true. I should say that his mom and my mom were colleagues, and we have been friends since the first day of school.

In fact Jams may have been the one to introduce me to my best friend since first grade, namely Isaac Thomas. I think Isaac and I sat together after perhaps the first month of school, when we were told by our class teacher to sit together. You see, I used to speak Hindi at home and my English was weak or non-existent. And vice-versa, Isaac knew no Hindi since only English was spoken in his house. Nevertheless, we figured out how to communicate and became the best of friends!

In short, Isaac, Jams and I go a long away. One of the items most worrying to me after the procedure was that now I will have to listen to Jamalabad saying I told you so for the rest of my life.

But as I told Isaac, I have managed to stop Jamalabad being his insufferable self. When I called him to tell him the news, the first thing I said was that now I have to hear that ‘I told you so’ from you for the rest of the life. But Jamalabad being Jams, said: “You know I will never say that to you.” So there.

Hopefully, with the improvements in blood circulation, my skin too will improve, just like that of Piyush and Jams.

What comes in use, in a crisis

Priti’s Papa, my father-in-law, had a loud and booming voice. That was evident the moment you enter his home when he would welcome you loudly. Often, his greeting included a teasing challenge or a question, and lead to an engaging exchange rather than a bland hello-how-are-you. In particular, children—even babies—would get immediately absorbed by his presence. He took this as a sign of his superior character that children loved him so much! For sure, he had a dramatic voice and a commanding presence.

Now Priti has inherited his loud and clear voice. She has developed her lung-power further, by learning how to sing. Like her Papa, her speech is clear and authoritative. I should mention, that some people—her closest family members—might even say that it is too authoritative. But it is all for the best; I understood this just now, after all these years of marriage. Here is what happened.

After the stenting procedure, I was not supposed to move my legs for 12 hours. After the first 6 hours they removed a bandage from my thighs, and placed another, and I was not supposed to move it for another 6 hours. The 12 hours got over at 2 am, but the nurses did not allow me to move for another 8 hours before the doctor visited. Post that I was allowed to move, and slowly. I was supposed to sit on the side of the bed. Then sit on the sofa. My nurse helped me, set up the monitors, and then left. It so happened, that Priti was still there in the CCU. She had been allowed in because of the doctor’s visit; otherwise, the visiting hours were in the evening.

After a bit I started feeling warm. I asked Priti, is it hot, or am I feeling warm. Then I was sweating. Soon I told her: chakkar aa rahe hain. And that is when Priti, blessed with Papa’s loud and authoritative voice, saved my life.

As I started dropping off, her shout immediately made 4 or 5 nurses and doctors rush into the room. When I came to, a few seconds later, they were trying to lift me on the bed, and elevate my legs. My BP had dropped due to the meds, and the heart rate went so low that I blacked out for a few seconds.

Apparently, this is a very common occurrence.

But if Priti wasn’t there, we don’t know when they would have noticed me.

***

There were no untoward incidents after that, and the rest of the recovery has been uneventful so far.

Note. The title of this section was suggested by a Whatsapp conversation with my favorite sister-in-law, Binny, who said the moral of this story is: “Crisis mein sirf biwi kaam aati hai!!!”.

Blessings from above

The second book I happened to pick for my hospital visit was a gift from my mother. She had inscribed her wishes to me in 2008 which I reread now.
Interestingly, Puggia and Taneja had lined up Dr. Bhabha Das in case I need surgery. This was the same surgeon who operated on my dad, right here in Apollo, 25 years ago. At that time he was a bright young man whom everyone spoke of as the best person to get a CABG from. And evidently, now he is a distinguished surgeon whom everyone speaks of, as the only surgeon to operate on you.

Birthday wishes written by mom

I felt I received my parents’ blessings before I went for the angiography.

***

I went to the hospital thinking I have so much unfinished agenda. My parents wishes are still unfulfilled (see the aforementioned birthday wishes). So far, I have hardly done anything that can make my family proud. This made me confident that nothing much will happen to me. Further, despite my efforts of the last three years at improving my health, there is a lot of scope to develop my chest, and lose the fat to make my abs visible. So I thought: no way I will require open heart surgery.

Along with the aforementioned blessings, this led me to very positive attitude. I knew whatever will happen, will happen for the best.

And that is how it was, despite the fears caused by the high calcium score.

Now that its done

The high calcium score, and my family history of heart disease—everyone who is anyone in Daddy’s side of the family, except for one distinguished exception, has had cardiac issues—is what led to the angiography. The findings were amazing. The arteries were remarkably clear, except in those two spots, and stents worked; no CABG was required. There was no diffuse blockage. I got fixed, before any symptoms showed up.

I feel blessed.

While it may take time to get back to my exercise schedule, I should feel healthier now than I did before. My diet and exercise schedule should keep further blockages away.

***

I am encouraged now to improve my health further. In particular, I hope to build up my stamina to accompany Tejasi and Nitin on a long run or hike somewhere, preferably in Europe or some exotic place.