True Stories - Everyday Hero

I was waiting to cross the traffic light across my hospital building. Just as it showed “Walk”, the lady hurried past me, almost running. Must be getting late for a meeting, or morning class, I thought. She walked (ran!) a few steps ahead of me and turned to enter the same building that I was headed to. As I was about to climb the stairs of the building from the street, I noticed a patient in hospital gowns atop the stairs, pushing his own drug infusion stand. He reached the edge of the stairs and hesitated a moment.

The lady ahead of me was jumping almost three stairs at a time now. Just when she was about to reach the top of the stairs, the patient asked her. “Can you grab a copy of the ‘Toronto Sun’ from the street??”. She stopped. It was obvious he couldn’t go down the stairs – the IV stand attached to him. Not a moment’s hesitation before she smiled. “Sure”, she told. About turn, went down the stairs past me, to the store on the street – got the paper, paid for it and came back and gave it to the old man. “Have a nice day and get well soon.” – she said – politely refusing his attempts to pay her back. Finally, he gave up and smiled back.

Into the hospital, I walked past her (as she was walking much slowly now) and I couldn’t help but notice she had the most content look on her face now, having achieved something much more than getting to a meeting on time – a smile.

We all know about the Iron Man, Superman and all the heroes. Nobody gets to know about these everyday heroes – the ones that don’t hesitate in making people smile. But then, you don’t need to know them at all – All you need to, is to be one.

Be an Everyday Hero.

True Stories – Victory

True Stories – Victory

I think the more we read about history and what was done by people in the past, the more we realise that we humans are a very cruel species. But thats not just it. What surprised me more that some stories of cruelty and discrimination did not happen that far back in time, it was just covered up. Covered up neatly so that only one only side of history is highlighted. Only the bad deeds of one side is known to all, propagated by all, condemned by all. There does exist a selective criticism, selective anguish and selective propagation of history and we are responsible for it, we are all victims of it.

today I heard 2 stories. I googled them and verified the facts. First is the Tuskegee syphilis study. Here they were trying penicillin for syphillis in a randomised fashion. For their control arm they took 300 african-americans, gave them syphillis and then did not treat with penicillin. Not one white was enrolled in the control arm. The African Americans were scarred for life with untreated syphillis to the extent that it was transmitted vertically to future generations who get congenital syphillis. This is not in the era of Genghis Khan or Asoka. This is done by the Leader of the Free world, the United states, in the early 1900s. I was so sad hearing it. How can somebody give somebody a disease and watch them suffer from it, while purposefully withholding the drug to treat it. Men women and children, exploited because of the colour of their skin. Just 100 years back we were doing it and thinking it was the correct thing to do, its ok to do that to African Americans.

The second was about the Willowbrooks Hepatitis study. Mentally retarded children housed at the Willowbrook State School in Staten Island, New York, were intentionally given hepatitis in an attempt to track the development of the viral infection. The study began in 1956 and lasted for 14 years. 14 years - they gave mentally retarded children hepatitis and watched them suffer. This is just 50 years back.

The Shiva Trilogy book has a dialogue. " The Devas and Asuras fought each other and the Devas won. Do you think it will the same version of history that you will read had the Asuras won? " - I think that is a very relevant dialogue for the human civilisation. Everybody knows about the Nazi human experimentation, Joseph Mengele and about Hitlers concentration camps and Ghettos. Even the movies propagate it blatantly. But very few people know about blacks being given syphilis and left to die or mentally retarded children given hepatitis to study the behaviour of the disease? Is this because the Germans lost? Are all the history/everything that we read a skewed version propagated by the winner of the situation? Is the American president or the community that allowed children to be tortured, blamed or condemned equally like the Germans or Genghis Khan? I really don’t think so.

It happens today also. Tipu sultan, who raided many a kingdom, who killed his opponents mercilessly, tortured the Hindus, stealing wealth from all temples of Kerala is projected as a Hero by one government because of his extraordinarily valiant efforts against the British while the next Government will change textbooks and cancel holidays claiming he is a tyrant himself. This shows that the history that we read, perceive and believe is what the Government, the people who won and the people in power, wants to propagate. What we learn from history is that we do not learn from history.

Then I came to a knee jerk and biased conclusion that it is not about Germans or Nazis or RSS or Mughals. It is a human thing. Mans never ending thirst for power and dominance will make him do any amount of torture and any amount of murder to whomsoever he pleases, If he is given the opportunity. People might say Hitler was crueller. I think that’s stupid. At a certain level there is no more or less. People who gave even a single innocent mentally retarded child hepatitis virus is as bad as Hitler who led to the murder of millions. There is no more bad, less bad. everyone is equally worse.

This information woke me to the reality of ignorance. We should all keep reading and enrich ourselves. The knowledge we pass along should be that you can very rarely take sides in an ideological battle. you can just take issues one by one and ask your conscience what is right and what is wrong. All establishments, all parties, all countries and all religions have un-removable statins of blood and torture in their hands. Because establishments parties, countries and religion are run by people. And people have agendas. Agendas of power and dominance and nepotism. Conscience compassion and service to the fellow human being, those come much much later.

Happy Dussehra – The celebration of the victory of “Good” over “Evil”

True stories - Man's best friend

True stories - Man's best friend

I was stressed. Work related tension and being alone at home. Husband had gone to visit his sister and I couldn’t get leave. It was a cold and snowy January night and I was stuck with Max - our Rescue dog. I decided to go out, although it was sub-zero and it was 10pm.

I took Max by the leash and walked a block. I was about to turn into an alley when Max indicated he wanted to go the other way. I obliged, and turned and slipped on the ice and fell heavily. I first thought I was dead. When I realized that I wasn’t, I thought nothing happened. When I tried to get up, a sudden shooting pain went up my shoulder and I realised painfully that I had broken my upper arm. Panic took over me for one second as I realised I won’t be able to get up in the slippery ice without my arm. But after a few seconds, logic took over. I reached for my pocket and found, to my luck, that my phone wasn’t damaged. I called my best friend, who lived a couple of miles away and told her an approximate location. She said she would reach ASAP. I cut the call and waited.

I was terribly cold and started to shiver. Max was free, the leash long gone, but he didn’t run away. Instead, he tried to push me up with his head below my chest. He was unsuccessful and then he came near me. He saw me shivering terribly and hardly able to speak. He might have realised that I needed some warming up, so he climbed over me and lay on my chest, his head below my chin. All the warmth he could give me. When he heard my friend’s car approaching, he stood up and barked. They found me and took me to the nearby hospital. My friend told me later that she wouldn’t have spotted me lying between two large heaps of snow and probably would’ve driven round and round in the falling snow, if Max hadn’t barked and indicated where we lay. The doctor said that the cold did more damage to me than the fracture and I would’ve been in a serious condition if i wasn’t kept warm and brought to the hospital on time.

Max was a rescue dog. He was in his shelter for abused dogs from where we found him. He was ill-treated by us humans before my husband and I decided to adopt him. Max chose to forgive and love and trust humans because of the love we gave him. All dogs will love you with everything they have, if you give them part of your affection. It doesn’t care whether you are rich or poor, dumb or smart, handsome or ugly, white or black, Hindu or Muslim, male or female, gay or straight - all the labels that we designed to segregate and judge ourselves. All it cares about is whether you love it or not. And it will love you back. Much more than anybody has ever loved you. Believe me when I say this. There is always more room for living beings to love. Adopt an animal, save your soul, be loved and rescue yourselves.

Happy Friendships day

ASCO 2018

ASCO 2018

                                     

The most exciting part of winning an international award, getting to visit the US for the first time, meeting your best friend, roaming around Chicago, going to the American Society of Clinical Oncology (ASCO) annual meeting (who had 40000 registrations this year) – was the people that I got to meet - the fellow IDEA (International Development and Education Award) recipients.

A group of bright young people from parts of the world having similar problems, if not worse, than ours. Some of them, who took palliative and end of life care as a passion. Edom was the only female oncologist in the country of Ethiopia which has one Radiation Machine for 100 million people. Pesona is one of the few gyne-oncologists from India’s neglected Northeast. Ishamel complained that Ghana doesn’t have enough mammography machines for screening and hence all his patients come in an advanced stage. Patience from Zimbabwe and Angela from Kenya took oncology training abroad and came back to their home countries to ensure that quality care is not denied to their patients. Eunice moved to palliative care after the child she treated with a lot of love, left the world. Das from Bangladesh and Jennifer from Guatemala were the first recipients of an ASCO award from their respective countries. Along with 11 others who had similar inspiring stories. Stories of struggles, hardships, undying passion, and determination.

They did not complain or resign to their fate when faced with adversities. They were focused and they fought. Fought against everything from natural calamities, corrupt governments, to poverty and disbelieving patients. All of them had a fire in their eyes and an intense passion for service.

Every great dream begins with a dreamer.

ASCO - IDEA winners 2018.

True stories -Sculpture

True Stories - Sculpture

                                       

It was news to me that the term 'Basilica' means a cathedral blessed by the Pope. We went to Basilica of St. Mary's at Minneapolis today - it is the first Basilica in the USA.

There, outside the Basilica, I saw this sculpture, without any sign boards or other markings. (Hence my views on what i saw are personal and non binding)

If you look closely you would see that the frail man under the blanket has puncture markings in his feet. With a jolt you realise that it is The Lord that you see, cuddled up cold in a bench in the park, under a seemingly thin blanket. Now what could the sculpture mean?

I think it means that the Lord might lie among the poor, the hungry, the homeless and the sick. That also means service to the poor, the hungry, the orphaned and the diseased is service to God.

As the famous Malayalam movie says, it is not the person who donates the Gold Cross to the Church who is God's favourite, but it is the person who treats the sickness, hunger or sadness of at least one person who is beloved to the Lord.

Such a profound message through a simple but elegant, unmarked sculpture on a park bench.

Happy Father's day. 😊

True stories - Family

True stories - Family

Family relations in India are different from the rest of the world and often complicated. As doctors in India, we have many-a-times seen the family assisting in the treatment of a patient half-heartedly, just because they don't want to appear disinterested in front of their neighbours/relatives. Mostly the patient senses such emotions and I can't explain what would hurt more, the disease or the loneliness.

So I thought I was facing a similar situation the other day when one of my patients, Rahul, who has just recovered after a stem cell transplant, looked gloomy. "What happened, why do you look sad today?? Is there anything I can help you with?." I asked him. "The cost, sir, I have only now began to realise the amount my family has spent in completing my treatment. I don't know how I will survive, once I am discharged." I did not know what to say. He had Acute myeloid leukaemia, and went through a long a complicated induction chemotherapy which was followed by an unrelated donor transplant. The cost surely would've been high, at least on the north of a million and a half. The patients elder brother, Saurav, was rarely seen during treatment and the responsible person in the family was a cousin. However there was never any hesitation or delay in getting any of the medications or essential ingredients, at any point of time , throughout the  treatment course. Rahul started speaking, "Once dad expired, me and my brother had divided the family land between us. Once we found out about my disease and the cost involved, we understood that we will have to sell my share of the land. My brother was speaking to a land broker a couple of days before I was admitted. They must have got a good price for my land and that's why I could complete my treatment uninterrupted. Now that I am better, I need to find a job to raise my family, before whatever is left from the sales gets over. But now I am worried. All I have done in life is farming, that's all I know. What is there to farm without farmland? To complicate things, Saurav has hardly visited me 2-3 times in the last few months. Why isn't he helping me??" Rahul asked. He was genuinely depressed. I tried to console him, but I did not know what to say. Doctors are trained for treating patients and even lifting up their spirits for fighting the disease. But what after that? How will I explain or console a person whose family seemed like they didn't want to support him??  I realised Rahul's concerns were genuine and I really didn't have a solution. 

So the day before Rahul was due to be discharged, Saurav came to my room to speak about post discharge precautions and advice. I casually asked him about Rahul's work plans. "He will supervise work at his farm, sir. That should be enough to provide for him and his family without having to strive too hard. ", came the reply. I was surprised. "But Rahul told me his share of the farm was sold??", I spluttered. His brother was silent for a moment, then smiled a weak smile. "It was my share of the land that was sold, sir. I realised that if Rahul gets out of the treatment, he would not be able to work hard and would need his farm to feed his family. In case he did not make it through, still his wife and kids would need the farm to keep themselves going. I am young and healthy now, sir. I am now working as a labourer in another farm in the village and that's why I couldn't come to meet him or you often, during the treatment.. "Saurabh said. He continued, "Rahul would've never let me done this, if he had known. So I somehow hid it from him. But I guess he will know soon enough. I have only one sibling, doctor. I can't let him or his family suffer. Money will come and go. I am just glad that he got better." My throat went dry and I was lost for words. I gave Saurav the discharge instructions and somehow told him he had done a great job.  Saurav just smiled. Rahul left the hospital, still a little gloomy, because I never told him the truth. I wanted him to find out from his own blood, when the time was right.

 Today Rahul came for his D+100 visit. He was doing excellent without any trace of the old malignancy in his body. Saurav came with him. They brought me a big box of Apples. "This is from our orchard", Rahul told. "When I realised what Saurav did for me, I realised how foolish I had been to think about property and money. Now we run our farm together and It has prospered in all these days. With hard work and a little luck, soon we will be able to buy back Sauravs land." Both of them beamed as he said this. They left my clinic and walked away. Rahul's right hand was on Sauravs left shoulder, a support he now knows will be there for him, till his very last breath. 

Love works in very strange ways. But one thing is for sure.

Love always wins.

True stories - Brother

True stories - Brother

I was the Tom-boy among all my friends during my childhood. Having 7 brothers definitely helped. I was strong brave and did almost all activities that the boys of my age did. My friends looked up to me and I was their little hero, while I enjoyed the caring love and affection of all my brothers. 

It was in one of those dares my friends threw at me that I decided to climb that walnut tree by the pond. I was 8 years of age, but jumped up to the dare, and threw myself up a difficult branch, but then got stuck. Neither could I reach up to the next branch nor could I climb down to the branch I jumped up from especially with the pond looming below. For a moment I was frightened, I didn't know what to do. The kids below got frightened too as I was at a considerable height. They began shouting in panic and then ran away fearing the wrath of the elders. My mother had appeared at the backdrop but did not come out probably because she had my younger baby sister in her arms. (She later revealed that she didn't come out as she dint see me atop the tree and she had actually thought somebody had jumped into the pond.) I was up at a considerable height, scared and confused and alone. Then I saw somebody running towards the tree. It was my little brother, all but 4 years old, small and skinny. He came below me, looked up with his wide eyes, held out his thin hands and shouted. "Jump, my sister, I will catch you. Don't u worry. I will save you." Tears sprang to my eyes. His bravado, his concern, his love. I still remember that scene vividly. The view from the top, the frightened me, the pond full of water looming below, Amma and the baby and the skinny little kid below me with wide eyes, arms stretched out, calling out to me to jump,a wide reassuring smile in his lips, full of concern and love.

Fast forward 60 years. My brother, because of his concern and love for all, because of his unmatched brilliance and bravado,  grew above all of us, conquered the world. Today is his funeral. I cannot bring myself to look at him today, but I did, somehow. Seeing him brought me back to that day 60 years back. His wide and glowing eyes were shut today, his arms which are not skinny now, are now folded across his body. But that smile, I can still see that reassuring smile in his face. That smile of defeating us all, even in death. That smile, of knowing what lies beyond. That smile, telling us not to cry for him as he is now free from the world of suffering and is now resting in the hands of the Almighty. 

Dear brother, you outdid all of us in all aspects of life but this is one time when I wish you would've let us go ahead into the arms of God. But when I close my eyes, I can still see you, healthy and happy, arms stretched out, eyes wide and the same reassuring smile in your lips. That view is enough for me, till the day i join you, when I'll take that jump into your arms.

Just like that day.

Lots of love,

Oppol.