by Vibha Sharma
Sometimes life fools one into believing that the only way to live is to be blown over by its pace. Interestingly, the incessant chains of thoughts that our mind weaves, about activities, joys, sorrows, achievements and failures, take up so much of our being that acknowledging the magic of every passing moment and that of life, in general, gets compromised. And when the tentacles of worldly affairs seem to have entangled an individual completely, making one falsely believe as the ‘doer’, life has its way of jerking one out of their stupor.
Today, as I sit soaking in the dusk of 2018, I reminisce about the year gone by. It all began around the same time last year when a simmering pain started becoming more emphatic, not letting me ignore it anymore. As was expected, trips to hospitals, clinics, a battery of tests and endless anxious hours began consuming a big portion of my routine. Even after a couple of months engaged thus, we were as clueless about the diagnosis as we were at the beginning of it all. It was only after four months of multiple treatments for suspected ailments, that a senior surgeon confirmed it to be an old cyst which had to be removed. A ‘cyst’ acting up – could it be the dreaded ‘Cancer’? But our doubts were coolly put to rest that such cysts rarely get malignant. My husband and I were told that the surgery and the following recovery would take ten days at most, so we decided to get it done sooner than later.
But who are we to plan anything? After a ten-hour-long and complicated surgery, my family was informed that the cyst was indeed malignant and was a challenge to be taken out. Later I came to know that my surgeon, who happens to be a highly competent doctor, did consider closing me up at least twice, after seeing the way the tumour was entangled in minute blood vessels. I was afflicted with Cholangiocarcinoma – cancer in the bile duct. To remove the tumour, a part of the liver had to be resected too. During the hospital stay I did hear from various sources that it was an extremely difficult surgery and that there were few doctors in India who could execute it.
After coming out from the surgery, I was unaware of these details but did ask my husband if it was cancer. He did not say ‘no’, but in his typical nonchalant way, stressed instead on how there would be some ‘work’, which meant more treatment after the recovery from surgery. Already overwhelmed by the discomfort of the passing moments, I did not have any energy to think about what the coming months. To be able to go back home was the only milestone that I had in my mind at that time.
The days and the nights that unfolded in the hospital post surgery turned out to be nothing less than being in hell. Excruciating pain, endless needles poked for multiple procedures, desperate attempts to stabilize electrolytes in the body, accumulation of body fluids, fluids oozing out from the surgery wound, blood samples, tests and what not. Some days really shook me and my attendants. I cannot forget the one when pain pushed me into a state of delirium and I lost touch with reality while struggling alone in some other world that my mind had conjured. Later I heard that it took many doctors, including a psychiatrist, to manage the condition. A few days following that are completely absent from my memory as they were spent in morphine-powered slumber.
A constant fear always kept me at tenterhooks that some out-of-range results would lead to more torturous procedures. I cried, and I prayed desperately for God’s mercy because when even the very basic bodily processes of ingesting and excreting start becoming unsurmountable tasks and when dignity is reduced to just being a body, there is nothing less than God’s grace that can salvage the situation.
God has been kind. If I was going through extreme physical pain and discomfort, my loved ones were riding the same waves with me, in spirit. My husband and my brother took turns to be by my side every single moment, completely forgetting their own hunger, thirst and sleep. My in-laws, our siblings and their families pitched in and continued with the same dedication and commitment all through those two months I was in the hospital. Our kids were lovingly taken care of; nourishing food was provided to me even though many times I could not even keep one morsel down my throat; dry, warm clothes were always available when my fluids were soaking everything up many times in a day; and how can I forget the ever available help in cleaning me, wiping me, putting me to sleep and making me comfortable as much as they could! There were times when I couldn’t help wonder if all this trouble and inconvenience (of mine and four units of extended family) was worth anything. And then I used to pray even more fervently: ‘God, please make me all well for them. Let their efforts not go in vain.’
I clearly remember the day when the last drain pipe was taken out from my body. For the first time in two months, I actually felt the desire ‘to live’ come back. The next day I was discharged from the hospital even though the wound was open and was to be cleaned every day. By God’s grace, we did come home but the treatment was not over yet. Six cycles of chemotherapy and twenty-five sessions of radiation therapy were to be undertaken immediately. The adjuvant treatment took seven months to complete. Yes, there had been low phases (physically, mentally and emotionally) but they got dwarfed in front of blessings: getting the time to be at home with kids, eating meals with them and being able to resume some regular activities. I’d like to believe that I am cancer free, at least until it comes knocking at my door again. Scanty hair on my head continues to be a constant reminder of that time, though I try to not let the painful months disturb my present. I know that constant reviews, check-ups and scans are a part of my life now but then this is a minor price that I have to pay for getting to live a life with awareness now.
Life has indeed undergone a big change. I am a cancer survivor but I owe the second lease of life to my family, and my surgeon, who considers me a God’s miracle. I am grateful for every moment that I get to spend feeling healthy and normal. I am ever so grateful for all the souls who happen to be associated with me through some relationship in this birth, for their love, concern and wholeheartedness in making me go through this difficult phase of life. I feel I am a blessed child of the almighty to have got such incredible support and thank God for making me value every breath that I take now.
It is both a heart-rending and heart-warming account of your tryst with fate. Love is the natural state of our being, and gratitude expresses it aptly.
All my best wishes to you for every moment of your life.
This was such a powerful, yet moving read, Vibha. You are truly a fighter—may God bless you and keep you in good health!
Very well written Vibha. It was indeed touching and I had tears in my eyes while reading this. Wonder how you managed to capture all these emotions and write it.Good job and very inspiring indeed!!