Last Wednesday was like so many other days, and even though I felt a little uneasy about the lunch buffet at a suburban Mumbai restaurant, I let that pass. The rest of the extended family eating the same meal seemed to be find it less objectionable. I woke up at night feeling uneasy and had a few episodes of throwing up and a rather troubled sleep. Thursday morning saw me feeling a little tired and the limbs feeling heavy. I attributed this to dehydration and tried to have a healthy breakfast with juice et all. A while later I was still feeling unwell and I found my limbs acting reluctant to move normally. I called a niece of mine who's a doctor, but unfortunately in faraway Bengal, and she asked me to call a doctor home at once. Not knowing whom to call, I did the second best thing. Which is calling my husband home. At this point though, I realised that I couldn't dial a number or hold a glass of water in my hands. That had me really terrified and I asked my seven year old daughter to call up Papa. She did that and I knew it would be at least half an hour before he could reach home, even if he left office right away. In the meanwhile, I saw my hands gradually lose all mobility. I lay down as my legs too got stiff and then it was my speech. It was so scary to feel as if I were paralysed and so helpless to see my daughter scared out of her wits. I finally managed to ask her to ring the neighbour's bell so that she wouldn't have to watch the scary sight alone. The neighbour, a kind lady, came and helplessly wondered what to do. To a lay person I must have looked like I was having a stroke. I was glad that my daughter was not alone and tried to wait patiently for my husband to reach. I somehow had this faith that once he was home, he would help me be all right. But even with that confidence, scary visions ran before my eyes. I was so afraid, as I lay thus, that I might never be able to move properly again, that my husband and seven year old daughter would be saddled with an invalid in the house. Like most of us, I value my independence and would hate to one day become dependent on others for simple day to day things. God, I was so scared. Finally, my husband arrived, and upon seeing me, was himself very scared. But he dragged me up, forcing me to make an effort to move while leaning on him. Inside the lift, I could hear my daughter crying in the neighbour's flat. The poor thing must have been so frightened. I forced myself to speak, telling my husband that she should come too. She came, and the scared little family drove down to the nearest hospital. It seems the entire episode was triggered by a severe calcium shortage. I had to stay in hospital for four days and injections and drips continued during that time. Once I could move my limbs again - which was soon - I wasn't worried any more. I was my usual impatient self, dying to get discharged at once. I am still having medicines and have to follow up with tests and specialist consultations. I still don't know what exactly triggered the attack and how I can prevent it from happening again. But I am so glad to be alive and fit, to be able to do almost everything I always do, even if I am a bit tired. The doctor says it is just a matter of time before the tiredness goes. In the meanwhile, I can take advantage of people willing to pamper me - my parents, my daughter, and of course my husband!