Page 145 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“But hotel?” said Karma, yawning.
“We’ll sleep in the car,” I said, adjusting the seat.
The car jerked. I sat and looked around. It was still dark outside. “Get up, Karma. Someone is around here. We
must move.”
He yawned. “What’s the time?”
I turned the ignition on and read the odometer. “5:00 am.”
Feeling drowsy, I drove up the mountains at Yotongla pass and down the Chimney-Ura bypass. As expected,
Thrumsingla pass was blanketed with thick snow. The car skidded at many spots and Karma had to push it. We
arrived at Mongar in the late afternoon. Straightaway, we went to see Dad. His entire body was swollen.
“Dad,” I said. “Getting better? How’d it happen?”
He removed the oxygen mask and said, “Feeling better now. Sorry for the trouble, son.”
“You don’t have to, Dad. We’re going to Thimphu now.”
“I will be fine here.”
“No, you are not. I’ll show you to a good doctor there.”
He turned away from me.
“You should go with them,” said Step-mom.
Dad stared at her. “But—”
“Don’t worry about Sonam Wangchuk and Pema,” she said. “I’ll take care of them.”
The next day, a female doctor checked on Dad’s progress.
“How is his condition, Doctor?” I said.
“And you are?”
“I am his son.”
“It’s a lung disease called COPD.”
I made a twitchy face. “What is COPD?”
“Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease.”
“Oh, no!” I said, gasping. “How chronic is it?”
“Too bad. It’s like cancer.”
“Oh, no! Can you refer him to JDWNRH?”
“Maybe, a few days later. His oxygen must reach the normal saturation point between 96% to 98%. Any level
below this is considered dangerous.”
“Oh, really?” I said. “What is the level now?”
She read the reading on the…. “86% SpO2.”
The next day, Dad’s saturation point had increased to 92% SpO2. I requested the doctor to refer Dad to
JDWNRH when she came for her evening round.
“Since you insist,” she said. “You can take him on oxygen support. You must deposit a security deposit of six
thousand five hundred ngultrums.”
After everything was done, we started at 3:00 pm from Mongar. It was Daw Dangpa Losar in 2016, so hotels and
restaurants along the way were closed. At Thridangbi, I stopped by a shade selling local products. There, I asked a
woman if there was any restaurant open around there. She told us there was a two-story house above the road, a few
meters away.
The restaurant was open. We had kharang lunch with bean curry and hit the road again. Dad panted as we scaled
up the Thrumshingla pass. I sped up. For dinner, we stopped by a restaurant at Ura.
“You must be hungry, Dad,” I said. “Let’s have dinner. Trongsa is a long way. What would you like to have?”
“I am not so hungry,” he said. “A light meal would do.”
I removed the oxygen mask and walked him into the restaurant. We ordered noodles and warmed our hands by
the room heater. Dad pouted and whistled. His lips had turned purple. He flinched and collapsed to the floor.
Karma held Dad just on time and shook him. “Dad!”
People gathered around us. A lama at the restaurant said an evil spirit had haunted him. He exorcised the spirits,
but Dad still lay unconscious.
“Oxygen!” I rushed to the car and dragged the oxygen cylinder. “Karma, wear the mask on him!” I released the
oxygen in full flow. Dad opened his eyes a minute later.
“Are you okay, Dad?” I asked.
He looked around and nodded.
The restaurant owner said, “Take him to Wangdicholing Hospital. The old road is much shorter.”
“Lama, could you give my dad an amulet?” I said.
He searched through his yellow satchel. “I don’t have, but take this.” He removed a Buddha amulet from his
neck. “This should ward off the spirits.”

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