The Battle for Life

I always used to wonder what’s the most difficult situation I've been in? Have you ever been in one? What’s the saddest moment of your life? I recently went through one.

A young uncle of mine was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. For the sake of privacy I won’t be revealing a lot of details, including what type of cancer. Even though it was a stage 3 cancer, the doctors were quite hopeful it could be cured. I have seen people suffering from cancer, battling for their life and recover from the verge of death. We were quite positive that this could be cured.

He received treatment at a private hospital in the city.  Although a famous hospital, he had to travel to another hospital frequently to receive chemotherapy and radiation. Since the cancer was in the abdominal region, his kidneys needed to be in check, so a diagnosis was done in another kidney-dedicated hospital. This was kind of messed up to be honest.

After a month of chemo and radiation, the updated test results showed no improvements. That’s when it was decided to shift him to a different hospital in another city quite far. Now this was a famous and reputed hospital, one of the best in the whole nation and people visited from various countries for treatment. The main reason for shifting was done in order to receive all kinds of treatment under one roof and get ultimately get cured.

It was a pain to take him all the way there. And to get him admitted was another issue. One had to go through a long process of acquiring appointments and waiting in queues. Being a cancer patient, he was admitted in casualty ward, the doctors ran tests and dismissed saying, “there is a problem, but it is not emergency”. So obviously he had to meet a few doctors before they would admit him. Now he was in deep pain and the first appointment with the doctor was available only after 3 days. Multiple appointments were made with other doctors too, like the surgeon, urologist, radiologist etc, which extended to the following weeks. If he were not getting admitted soon, things would turn pretty bad. Eventually, a small group of us including his father and wife waited for the appointment day. I must say here that his wife showed exceptional courage and stayed very positive all the way, she was 100 percent sure he would be cured and was most hopeful. We stayed in a lodge opposite to the hospital. I don’t have the strength to describe the tedious process of waiting. It was horrible.

 On the exact day of appointment no. 1, his token number was 16, which meant the doctor had to see 15 patients before him. He waited with the agonising pain. But with a few strings to pull in the administration, and a request made to the nurse, we were able to see the doctor early. When the doctor uttered the words, “get admitted and cancel the remaining appointments”, we were so happy. Really really happy because once you are admitted, the doctors take care of everything and you don’t need to wait for further appointments and consultations.

I left the hospital a day later back to my place hopeful that everything will be taken care of, constantly keeping in touch with him and his wife. He went through various tests and scans and minor procedures as other health issues cropped up. A week later, it was informed that he had a block in the intestine and he needed surgery. He was vomiting severely as he could not excrete because of the block. Now imagine for yourself when I say ‘vomit, because he could not excrete’, it is difficult for me to type here and I pray no human should suffer this kind of a situation.

He was also on morphine, which is a narcotic drug and this made him drowsy and lose consciousness. The doctors recommended an immediate surgery to remove the block. Again we were all hopeful. The actual treatment for cancer, which was chemo, had not begun yet. This block had to be removed first.

I spoke to him and my aunt the night before surgery. The surgery was performed late in the evening. He was back in his room next morning. We were looking forward to start the chemo soon. But things took a drastic turn. The following afternoon, his pulse rate reduced and he developed breathing problem. The doctors were informed of this difficulty and they had to take him to the ICU (Intensive Care Unit).

What happened next was for the worst. The cancer had spread to other parts and the tumor was bigger now, causing obstruction in the intestine. Because of the block, he could not urinate. The kidneys failed. Dialysis was an option to flush out impurities, but his blood pressure was too low to perform dialysis. He slipped into unconsciousness. He was sedated heavily. This was on for two days without improvement. Medication increased. The doctors told his wife to summon his children so they can see him as things were now getting out of control and anything could happen.

The family and relatives were in complete shock. Traumatised. I saw him in the ICU. His life was hanging on a thread supported by a ventilator. Tubes in his nose, pipe in his mouth, the man had no idea what he was going through. He had not woken up for two days now; his life was on with the help of a machine.

The visiting hours in the ICU were only for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening. We were allowed in very small groups to see him. His two young kids and wife were pleading, calling his name, shoving him asking him to wake up and see. Standing by his side and desperately trying to get a response, hoping his blood pressure and pulse would increase with each call. No. Nothing happened.

I had asked earlier, ‘What’s the saddest moment of your life?’

It’s ‘helplessness.’ To see his family stand by him and try everything they had in them to just get this man open his eyes was the most saddest thing I've ever seen. He was talking and fine two days ago, here he was now struggling for breath, body turning blue, face looked like life was creeping out. The image was unbearable.

I stood there, watching the scene, crying uncontrollably. My heart wept. This was one last chance to save him, if he woke up and the BP increased, there were chances to save his life. But he did not respond. He would raise his eyebrows or turn his head slightly once or twice with repeated pleading trying to wake him. This would give us hope, but the doctor said it was because he comes in and out of sedation and responds slightly to his name being called. But that too lasted for a split second. It got worse.

All his relatives tried their best; I too called him, asking him to wake up, telling him he’s cured, asking him to wake up so we could go home. Nothing. He was suffering. He was fighting for his life. The doctors told it was just a matter of hours. The urine was bound to infect the blood; multiple organ failure or lead to cardiac arrest would lead to death.

We were all devastated, especially the family. Yet we waited for a miracle. I had no words to console his wife. Battling tears we all waited. It was a heart gruelling situation.

 He died the following evening losing his battle for life.

He never got a chance to see his kids before death. On the way to the ICU three days ago, my aunt had to run a quick errand, by the time she returned, the doctors had taken him in. Missed him by a minute. She did not speak to him properly, nor did my uncle get a chance to see her after that. What sort of cruelty is this? Never did anyone imagine things would turn this bad.

Initially I used to pray for his full recovery. Then when he was in ICU, I prayed for his blood pressure to increase, even though his kidneys had failed and nothing could be done. When the doctors gave up, I prayed that he would just open his eyes and see his wife and kids one last time, before death. None of this happened.

I don’t remember God answering most of my prayers. I remember praying like mad asking God to help pass me in exams and get admissions in colleges. But when I look back, I realise it was bound to happen. I am not an atheist yet nor am I agnostic. Fine, forget me; I may not be the perfect devotee. But my uncle’s father (my grandfather) had immense faith in God. His career was in a temple most of his life praying for everyone’s welfare. Never missed a prayer. Yet he had to go through the torture of losing his son. My uncle too kept saying, “God will save me, nothing will happen to me”. His wife and kids prayed day and night with firm optimism. Yet this is the same God that could not grant a wish. If you have to suffer for your karma, then why do they say everything happens according to God’s will? I agree death is inevitable. Could God not even grant a small wish? If his life was meant to go, let it go. But could God not bring him to his senses one last time, even if it was for 5 seconds, so he could see his wife and kids one last time? They pleaded and begged. Where was God?

Time goes on. Life moves on. The funeral took place, a lot of mourning, a lot of wailing and crying. I watched his last rites being performed. I saw one last time the lifeless body go all the way into the electric crematorium. The doors shut and all that came out was ashes.

Is it wrong to be angry with God? Is it wrong to question his act? Put aside karma, I agree we suffer for our acts and in my life I've readily accepted mine whether I like it or not. But the fact that it had to end so drastically makes it hard for me to cope. Oh God, he could have just opened his eyes for a moment to see his family standing there. It would have given them solace. Why does he never hear us? I know I am overreacting. But I can’t come to terms with the fact that in the end everything was way too unpleasant. But this thing called ‘acceptance’ kicks in once again I look up to God. Why is there so much pain? Only if we had the answers. At the end of the day it is us who pacify ourselves and move on with life.