October 3rd, 2020...a date I will never forget. The world was already battling the uncertainty of COVID, but my battle turned personal. I opened my eyes in a hospital bed, IV drips running into my arms, and my sister sitting beside me with tears of relief in her eyes. She whispered, “Didi, you’re awake.”
I, on the other hand, had no idea what had happened. My head throbbed with the kind of splitting pain I had never felt before. I couldn’t speak properly, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even recognise where the last ten days of my life had gone.
The last thing I remembered? Texting my boss that I’d return to work soon after recovering from what we thought was typhoid. But the truth was far darker.
The collapse and the diagnosis
My parents later told me that I had suddenly collapsed. For a terrifying moment, they thought I was gone. In the hospital, tests revealed the reality: Tuberculous meningitis (TBM). The bacteria had spread to the protective membranes of my brain and spinal cord, silently attacking until my body could no longer cope.
To stabilise me, doctors placed me in a medically induced coma. When I finally woke up, I was alive, but the left side of my face was paralysed. Looking at my own reflection was surreal. I felt trapped in a body that no longer felt like mine.
The slow road back
The days that followed were a blur of fear, medicines, and fragile hope. Friends and family were constantly around me, but I was drifting in and out of consciousness, barely able to respond. I didn’t cry, not even once. Not because I was brave, but because I refused to believe this was real.
After 15 days, I was discharged, but my journey had just begun. I had to learn to walk again, like a child taking shaky first steps. For the next 18 months, my life was ruled by medications and hospital visits. Every pill was a reminder of how fragile survival could be.
People often told me I was strong. But the truth is, when life gives you no choice, you simply fight. Survival isn’t about strength; it’s about instinct.
What meningitis taught me about life
This illness changed me. It stripped away the illusion that life would always go according to plan. But it also gave me the greatest gift, gratitude. Gratitude for my parents, sister, and friends who never left my side. Gratitude for the doctors who pulled me back from the edge. Gratitude for time itself.
That same month was my 25th birthday. Before, I used to think ageing was something to resist. Now, I see it as a privilege. Every candle on a cake is proof that I made it through another year.
Red flags you shouldn’t ignore
Tuberculous meningitis is rare, but deadly if not treated on time. Symptoms to watch for include:
- Persistent headache (lasting more than a week)
- Fever with night sweats
- Neck stiffness and sensitivity to light
- Nausea, vomiting, or loss of appetite
- Confusion, irritability, or behavioural changes
- Seizures or weakness in limbs
- Gradual decline in consciousness
If these signs appear, don’t wait. Trust your instincts and seek medical help immediately.
An expert take on Tuberculous meningitis
According to Dr Neha Kapoor, Associate Director and Head-Neurology, Asian Hospital, "Tuberculous meningitis (TBM) is a severe form of tuberculosis in which the bacteria infect the membranes covering the brain and spinal cord. It develops slowly, often over weeks, and can be life-threatening if not diagnosed early.
"Tuberculous meningitis is one of the most dangerous forms of TB because it silently attacks the brain. Early warning signs like persistent headache, fever, or changes in behavior should never be ignored. Timely medical evaluation can make the difference between recovery and long-term complications," said Dr Neha.
Looking back, Tuberculous meningitis was the hardest chapter of my life. But it taught me something I carry every single day: life is fragile, but it’s also resilient. We don’t get to choose what happens to us, but we do get to choose how we live afterwards.
And me? I choose gratitude. I choose to celebrate every birthday, every ordinary morning, and every moment with the people I love. Because growing older isn’t something to fear, it’s the greatest privilege I know.