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.

True Stories - Perspective

True stories - Perspective

Both the good thing and bad thing about CML clinic is that you keep seeing the same cohort of patients every week. Some of them are irritating, but mostly patients are considerate, willing to wait and not noisy. One of my favourite patients was a young lady in her early thirties, just because she seemed to be the happiest in the whole OPD, if not the whole world. She never jumped the queue, insisted the older patients and the wheel chair bound patients to be seen ahead of her and never ever complained about the system, which does not treat its subjects fairly. But what really really set her apart is one character. She is the only patient I have seen, who has the heart to ask at 3:00pm whether I had any lunch or whether she could get me something to drink. In the midst of their troubled lives and bizarre sicknesses, people, quite understandably, forget to think that the doctor seeing them at 4:30pm might not have had anything to eat or drink since morning. Just that one question, showing an extraordinary love for the fellow human being, in spite of her own illness, made her my favourite patient.

But she always came alone. As a policy we hematologists don't ask personal details of our patients unless required, probably because there is enough sadness running around and there is no need for an additional emotional burden. One day she came with her child. The little girl child was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Quiet and well behaved like her, with the most beautiful of smiles. Everyone in whole OPD gave the mother and child a second glance, just because of the pure happiness they radiated.
After examining the patient that day and writing her prescriptions I asked the mother, "How come I've never seen your daughter before, did she used to stay at home with her dad??" A moment of darkness crossed the mothers face. But it quickly turned into the perennial smile. "Oh doctor, you don't know. I'm a single mother." That was enough for me, the stupid me had blown off my mouth, yet again. Typical foot in mouth situation. You start the conversation and you don't know what to say. But she did not seem to be bothered and started her story.

"I was 4 months into my arranged marriage when I was diagnosed as CML. My husband left me on the day of diagnosis and I returned to my parents. I was devastated, lost, jobless and penniless. I contemplated suicide. Although the doctors explained to me that the disease would most likely be under control with drugs, I didn't want to be a burden to my parents or to anyone. I cried all day and night. Just before I went to bed, my dad came to me and told. "See you'll be my favourite whatever happens and whoever leaves you. You were such a confident, smart and ambitious girl when you were little. Bring that girl back. Tumhara hi zindagi hai beta, jaise vo bekaar-sa ad mein bolte hein, "Make it Large"....." I didn't sleep a wink that night. In the morning I decided I am going to face my disease with my head held high. I went to my best friend from school, borrowed some money from her and bought a sewing machine. Long story cut short, I own a stitching and designing shop in my hometown. I employ 6 girls now, all either cheated or abused by their husbands. 

Life is never complete without more people to love. Hence with the approval of my dad, I adopted her. Took some real arm twisting with all the paperwork. But now I am her mother and her only parent. It's actually quite funny. I used to get a lot of marriage proposals when I became successful, those have reduced since she came. But I'm not at all sad doctor, I decided that day itself, that I will not venture into anything myself, unless it was on my own terms.

I am surrounded by people who love me unconditionally doctor, and I came to realize that in life, that's all that matters."

She gave me the sweetest of the smiles, picked her daughter and walked out. The daughter waved me a ta-ta over her mom's shoulder. 

I closed my eyes to savour that moment. Oscar Wilde's famous lines came to my mind.. 

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.".

Happy Women's day.

True stories - Diwali

True stories - Diwali

This happened during rounds today.

Consultant to patient - I am glad you made good progress in the last week. We can discharge you today so that you can celebrate Diwali with your family. 

Patient - Sir, if possible I would like to stay in the ward during Diwali. Can u discharge me day after tomorrow??

Consultant <surprised> - Why would you want to stay in hospital on Diwali day. Don't you want to go home??

Patient <lowering his voice> - Sir as you know, I have not being working for 2 weeks now. If I am discharged today, my family would starve tomorrow on Diwali day. But If I stay here, tomorrow at least I can feed my kids the Diwali special hospital food that they give out for the patients. 

The consultant was too stunned to say anything. He felt his throat going dry, voice getting hoarse. "Sure, we will discharge you on Monday", he managed somehow, before turning away and leaving the ward. 

There was an awkward silence, and the residents walked behind the consultant saying nothing. Before leaving, the consultant took out his purse, grabbed some money and gave it to his SR without counting. "Buy some sweets for all the patients tomorrow, please.", he told before walking away.

As he was walking to his car his mobile beeped. The gifts for the family that he had ordered from Flipkart, Amazon and Myntra had been delivered.

Happy Diwali to all.