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An old ailment gives trouble

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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