An old ailment gives trouble
Henry Jayasena Column - 163
The Story of a Cancer Patient - Part 6
"Chandrakumar, would you like to act? On TV? I tease him. He shakes
his head to say 'no'. "Then I will take you to a temple. You can sweep
the Bo-Maluwa, can you ?" I ask him. He shakes his head to say 'yes'.
His eyes fill over again. He must be thinking of home.
"Okay, okay, don't cry now. Your father is coming to see you next
week. We got a letter from him..." The nurse concocts a story to please
him.
It was a surprise to all of us, when, in fact, the boy's father
turned up the very next day, which was a Wednesday. That was 'cleaning
day'; for the ward and I got permission to sit outside - to escape the
cold in the ward.
A middle aged man in a white sarong and a striped short-sleeved shirt
came along and peeped into the ward. When he saw that the ward was being
cleaned, he quietly squatted on his haunches outside the ward and
waited.
"That's Chandrakumar's father." I heard a nurse telling one of her
mates. There was a little displeasure too in my mind about this man. Why
had he not come to see his son for fifty odd days? Is he such a callous
man? I had been thinking each time I observed the poor boy crying.
Yet, all the chagrin and all the displeasure about the man
disappeared from my mind, the moment I saw this man. This quiet man with
a well-trimmed moustache, in a white sarong and shirt, must be an estate
labourer. He gets his pay once a week.
Although he is not a pauper, he would find it hard to bear the
expenses of a long journey all the way to Colombo from the plantation
where he works. If he is absent, most likely he would lose a day's pay.
Chandrakumar's bed must be visible to this man from where he is
squatting quietly. He shows no hurry at all. He waited patiently till
all the washing up was done. Then he donned the green-anti-germ coat and
shoes given to him by a nurse and entered the ward.
By now I was also a little tired of sitting outside and quietly
entered the ward and stretched myself on the bed. My eyes wandered
towards Chnadrakumar's bed. The boy was still frowning, but within the
folds of the frown there was joy.
The father was telling him something in Tamil. Chandrakumar's smile
was widening and the father pats him on the back. Chandrakumar's joy is
complete and he sits huddled to his father.
Very soon however I was in trouble. The I.C.U. is heavily
air-conditioned. This I believe is to protect all the sensitive and
valuable equipment in the ward.
Although my mind was up to the intense cold, apparently my body was
not. An old ailment of mine was beginning to give me trouble. That was
an acute rheumatic problem in my knees and down the legs. My left knee
swelled up and was looking and feeling like a husked coconut. It was
extremely painful too.
Going to the toilet became a huge effort for me. For my misfortune, I
cannot use a bed pan and have to somehow manage to crawl my way to the
toilet. Although I was helped by the nurses, once inside, sitting down
was an extremely exhausting and painful exercise. Any movement spent
spasms of pain all over the body.
And getting up was a mournful, teeth-gritting task. When I became
utterly helpless, I even prayed to my dead mother and asked for help!
"Have you finished, Mr. Jayasena? Shall we help you?" The nurses
would enquire from outside and I shivered with shame. Somehow I would
manage to stand on my right leg and get ready to be helped back into
bed.
Standing on one leg could bring too much strain on the operation cut
and even dislodge the stitches. Somehow, with help I would crawl back to
bed and then a nurse had to lift the left leg on to the bed. With all
this hassle I could feel my entire body going limp.
"What shall we do about the rheumatic problem in your leg, Mr.
Jayasena?" asks the head nurse. "At home of course I take a couple of
prednesolone and kill the pain, Madam... But I know we cant do it
here..." I mumble to her. "We cant do that without the doctor's
permission, Mr. Jayasena. That could sometimes cause internal bleeding."
Says she.
"Yes, I know that, Madam... Do you think you could call my wife and
ask her to bring my crutch from home? I have a crutch at home which I
use when I am in this condition, madam...and please forgive me for
giving your nurses so much trouble..." I suddenly remembered my crutch.
I have had it for more than twenty five years.
Whenever my knee problem bothers me badly I had been using it. And it
has helped some of my friends who would occasionally come up with a
broken bone or fracture or some such thing.
And that very evening Manel brought me the crutch - the dear old
crutch. We came to know about a bomb blast at the Mt. Lavinia main bus
stand. "A bomb victim in a serious condition is being brought here. So
we have to send you back to ward 23, Mr. Jayasena."
The head nurse told me that evening. I said that was perfectly okay.
Actually it could mean some relief for me. I had only a few more days
before I was to be released and the cold in this ward was becoming too
difficult for me.
Once again I was put on a stretcher and wheeled away through a myriad
of corridors. My crutch and the bag with my clothes were all piled on
the stretcher. This time also I noticed the white ceilings, the roof
beams where there were no ceilings, cobwebs and the Sinhala ulu.
Secretly I told them that I was okay and that my 'Satyakriya' had
worked! The staff in ward 23 welcomed me back heartily. They were
surprised to see me with a crutch though. "What's this, Mr. Jayasena?"
Mrs Nanayakkara the head nurse asked me as soon as she saw it. I told
her about my rheumatic problem.
"You don't need a crutch in our ward, Mr. Jayasena. The toilet is
close by and our staff will help you." Mrs. Nanayakkara declared
emphatically. "And you should not strain your cut wounds with a crutch.
What if you give yourself a rupture...?"
I kept mum, got into my bed and leaned the crutch against the wall.
"I will use it only if it is absolutely necessary..." I assured her.
"You have been behaving very badly at home...I did not know about
these things..." Dr. Dayasiri was chiding me from my bed side. He was
smiling his usual cheerful smile. "That's impossible, sir." I told him.
"I am supposed to be a good chap..."
"I am told you have been taking predniselone. That is a drug with bad
side effects and should not be taken without medical advice..."
"That's true, sir. But what could I do when I had a performance, or a
lecture or a workshop and if this bothersome thing turned up...?" "Does
it hurt you very much...?" He asked me touching the sore knee.
"Sometimes it is pretty bad, doctor. I could scream because of the
pain..."
"Perhaps the cold in the I.C.U. may have aggravated your condition."
He said with kindness. "We put you there to make you more comfortable."
"Yes sir, I know it."
"Just hang on for a couple of days, Henry. We'll be removing your
stitches very soon and then you can go home. He said while examining the
cut on my abdomen. "This is okay, it's healing well." Murmured the
doctor. I was very happy to hear that I could soon go home. "I feel very
much at home here too, doctor.." "Really..? No. That's just to please
us. You can go home, my dear. But you have to be very careful...."
The doctor moves to another patient. He examines each and every
patient. Talks to them. Asks them how they are faring....The dedication
and discipline he brings into his profession spreads right through the
hospital. It's like a magic touch. And it comes through, to the patients
too...
To be continued...
****
Thought of the Week
In the 19th of this month (October) we did a good thing at the
Maharagama Cancer Institute. A DVD titled 'Mage Kathawa' on the
experiences of a cancer patient [In this instance I am the patient] -
his fears, doubts, acceptance and the fight for survival - is depicted
in a 20 minute long conversation.
The DVD which was produced with the help of private contributions,
including Namel and Malini Weeramuni was produced by a Cancer-Friendly
society by the name of 'MITHURUWELA'. It was handed over to the Director
of the Cancer Institute at a simple and touching ceremony on that day.
I was happy that Dr. Jayantha Balawardhana - who treated me during my
illness - was also present on the occasion and paid a glowing tribute to
Manel for looking after me with such abiding care. I am thankful to him
for that because if I tried to speak about her dedication and loving
care, I would have broken down.
MITHURUWELA is essentially a voluntary organization which supplies
information, advice and any possible guidance to cancer patients. Its
literature is available in all three languages and even the DVD too will
have a Tamil version very soon.
Their address is at 70/1, Peterson Lane, Colombo 6. There in no phone
contact but one could contact them on e-mail at 'mithuruwela @ gmail.com'
Right now they need a few more dedicated and committed volunteers to
handle the befriending and communication with patients and their care
givers.
They also very urgently need a place - preferably in walking distance
to the Maharagama Cancer Institute - to set up their meeting place with
patients and their care givers. Information about material and financial
help could be had from the Treasurer at the address given. [email protected]
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