Uncertainty. It’s around you, it surrounds you; you sense it and eventually learn to cope up with it. Life is no scene from “Mary Poppins” and change is the only constant in the world. Everything else is up in the air. Being uncertain makes us feel lost at times, but the idea is to breathe, plan, pray, and keep progressing. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel and if it is still dark, you learn how to shine in the dark.
In April this year, our family took a trip through the tunnel, travelling more than a month to find that light. On April 5, Papa thought of getting his usual blood work done. To the surprise, the doctor suggested to him something he was not prepared for.
“Can you please get your chest X-ray done?”
My father, perplexed and reluctant, abided. Need I say how lucky we are that the doctor suggested it? Sometimes He himself comes disguised as a human to make us aware of the situation.
My father went to get the X-ray done and it was not until hearing the radiologist’s questions that he became alarmed.
“Do you have difficulty in breathing?”, popped one.
“No,” he said. But the calm sea in which my father was residing was disturbed.
“Do you feel any pain near the chest area?”, came another.
“No.” By now he was anxious.
Once the finally radiologist surfaced from his questioning, my father wanted to dive into some.
“What is it?” He asked, getting a grip on his racing heartbeat.
“A tumour. Right next to your heart. Please get it tested urgently.”
Without any further delay, Papa got himself hospitalised. Soon, a sample was withdrawn from the tumour and was sent for a detailed biopsy. Those 10 days, when we waited for the results, were horrendous. The waiting game takes a toll on the players involved.
Meanwhile, our family and our extended family were informed. Everyone was startled and prayers started flowing in from every part of the world. There are times when a human feels so weak and helpless that they realize how small they are in the bigger scheme of life. Many of us are spiritual on some level but somehow spirituality, in its true form, only rises in times of need.
Time is always running, but in times of crisis, I knew I needed to slow down, kneel before Him, and seek His blessings. When I beg and cry in front of Him, I feel His presence, around me, inside me. That’s the power of connectivity. Now imagine a whole family kneeling and praying–that’s the power of collectivity.
Ten exceedingly long days crawled by and the tumor was identified. I, in Hyderabad, was on a video call with my younger sister in San Francisco, when the medical reports came over email. I remember how she closed her eyes in gratitude before spelling out: “Benign”. We exchanged the look siblings do when they are sailing in the same boat. Miles apart, we speak the same language; after all, it was our father in question.
Every human being has their own way of handling stress, especially in matters relating to health. I am a person who is practical in life. I keep every possibility open. So when I came to know about the tumor, I promptly analyzed every possible outcome that we might have had to encounter and also the course of actions in those scenarios. On the contrary, my sister is a complete believer, who feels “sab achha hoga (everything will be fine).”
It’s difficult when two individuals who are poles apart in rationality and spirituality talk. Our outlook differed but our desires completely met. I kept quiet on this subject and hardly spoke with anyone. Iin times of distress, the less you talk the more it benefits you. Everyone has unsolicited advice and suggestions to, and questions to ask, and when you are feeling. But all you want is not being poked on that subject.
Even though the tumor was not malignant, it had to be disconnected from my father’s chest as soon as possible. He was carrying a huge threat; 800 grams of threat. In a short span of 15 days, all was done at a lightning speed. Dates were fixed and on April 27, this year, my father underwent a major surgery at Max Saket, Delhi. He was hospitalized for a good ten days. The removal of 800 grams of tumour was a six-hour operation. An expert panel of doctors and surgeons, a lot of blood and courage, and more prayers from all parts of the globe. Papa was lucky to survive the tumor. The memoir it left on him were 35 stitches, strategically placed from under his left arm to his nipple. One of his ribs and a phrenic nerve were compromised, owing to the location of the tumor. It will take time for him to recover fully, but, as of now, he is healthy and healing.
I will repeat–Papa is blessed to survive, knock on wood. Life is so uncertain that you can’t do much when it lays down its rules. You just have to play by those. You don’t have a choice. Do you?
Luck and blessings not only hold true for survival but also for a united family. We are lucky that we have a strong connected family who rises to help in the times of need. There were family members who did not blink an eye to stand next to Papa in our time of crisis. We had family members travel to Delhi to be there for an extended period; family members who abandoned sleep, laying on the hospital room floor and the waiting room; family members who donated blood to meet the hospital’s requirements; family members who went out of their way to organize appointments in a short span of time with one of the best surgeons in the country; family members who opened their homes and hearts to him; today and always. Above all, my father has my mother. Papa is a rational person; Mummy is an emotional human being. But in times like this, she becomes the rock who pulls us out of any hopeless situation, time and again.
As for us, the sisters, we act as the support system, the reassuring factors, the abstract cure, asking our maker, our father, to have faith. Because in the end, that is what a family does. Our parents taught us well and now we practice our upbringing.
Right after delivering my daughter in 2014, I had trouble walking. Due to the improper stitching done post normal delivery, I felt a gravitational force acting on the lower half of my body. I visited several gynecologists in Kolkata (where my folks resided then) who told me there was nothing to worry about and it will recover with time.
There was one who even suggested “Don’t worry. The err will be rectified after another delivery.”
I knew I did not intend the second time, so when, even after three months of delivery, I could not walk properly, I became massively depressed. New mothers are much more prone to such emotions. One fine day, when I came home after another doctors’ appointment, I found my father seated in the hall. After a quick chat, I confessed to him, “I don’t think I will ever walk the way I used to. This uncomfortable feeling is here to stay.”
He looked straight at me and said, “You had a whole human being come out of you. A human body can endure any sort of pain. Childbirth is a natural phenomenon. Just give it some time.”
In a month, the Kegel exercises kicked in and got me out of dire straits, but what pumped me to believe in my health recovery were those golden lines. That’s the power of parents!
Parents make you believe in you like no one else. When things start to fall apart, they will catch you while falling. “Haan Beta, ho jayega. Phir se koshish karo (It will happen. Keep trying).” A child may not succeed but the parents want them to keep trying, for themselves. Maa-Baap kahi nahi jaatey. Parents will never leave you. They are in you, by you, with you, for you.
Two weeks ago, my Macbook died and I decided to buy a new one. The moment I mentioned that to my parents, my father spoke from the other end, “Mera le lo Saumya (Take mine). It has a great processor, good storage. It’s Dell Inspiron 2016 model. What will I do with such an expensive laptop? I just read news on that, I can buy another cheaper model for that purpose.”
I was left in tears by the time I disconnected the call. Turning to my husband I said, “Parents don’t even think twice na? When it comes to their children, they can donate very drop of their blood.”
It’s not about a laptop, it’s about providing for their children, even when those children are grown up and have their own children. They will be parents till their last breath.
When I heard the news about my father’s health, I was taken aback, but not shattered. I believed in the power of Good because, of all the valuable life lessons my parents taught me, the most important one is belief. Believing in myself. Believing in the good around me. As for the rest, we have prayers–connective and collective.
My wishes and prayers go to everyone out there who are fighting the evil that has made them or their loved ones a hostage. Even when there is uncertainty, believe in yourself–either you will conquer it, or you will learn to live with it.
Uncertainty is here to stay. The idea is to learn how to deal with life’s curveballs. You may feel low, lost, and depressed, but that’s okay; it simply means you are living.