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Henry Jayasena Column - 169:
Story of a Cancer Patient
Reflections - Part II:
For the benefit of my readers I should add something. While the
reaction to chemo at the beginning is not exactly pleasant, one gets
used to it after a few weeks. You slowly get back your appetite, not
totally, but adequately.
There comes a funny feeling as the chemo gets hold of you. Or perhaps
it may be the effect of the battle between the chemo and the bad cells -
I am not quite sure. I have not asked the doctors how this feeling comes
exactly. One does not waste the time of those overworked persons with
such inanities. They have thousands of patients in their hands and they
have much work to do.
Anyway, the feeling is that you want to keep your mind and throw the
body away. That is how I felt. The mind is good and functioning well,
but the body is a mess full of the unpleasant odor of chemo, weak,
irritable and totally unpredictable... In any case whenever I was in the
doldrums with pessimistic thoughts, I would recall the words of my
healer - Dr. Jayantha Balawardhana.
"I know you will face up to it. You are a courageous man...!"
I had taken to listening to Pirith too. The Maha Mangala Sutta,
Ratana Sutta, Karaneeya Metta Sutta, the Dhajagga Sutta and the Maha
Moggallana Sutta, specially.
The moment you come to know that you are afflicted with cancer - nay,
even the trace of a cancer, your world crashes around you like a house
of cards. The warm, safe little world that you had built around you is
no more.
People always think that cancer is an affliction that others get and
not you. When we come to know of someone afflicted with cancer -
especially someone near and dear to us - our faces fall. "Not possible!"
We say vehemently. "Why, I saw him only the other day! He was looking
fine! I can't believe this... There was no sign at all... Good God, what
a tragedy!"
This is the kind of reaction we come out with. And beneath all this
is a kind of 'Death Sentence' that we pronounce silently.
"God, he is finished! Poor fellow...!"
When I came to know for the first time that there were these bad
cells - malignant they call them - in me that would eventually turn into
a cancer, my world too fell around me...These doctors are trying to hide
the truth from me... They are covering up the wound with all kinds of
soothing balms...They are dressing up the truth...I thought. Why are
they trying to treat me if I don't have a cancer? God, How and Why did I
get this...? Why me...?
Here I was planning to retire from the stage, the cinema and
television, and lead a quiet life. Read all the books I had missed
reading. Listen to some good music... Visit friends... Go to places I
have not been to... Indulge in my favorite pastime, gardening... write a
little bit perhaps... when suddenly, like a bolt from the blues, comes
this! What crime, what atrocity, what sin have I committed...?
The first few days of such despondency took their toll. I lost
weight. My face became horribly drawn. I was looking like a ghost. I had
become a different person.
Yet, my inner self must have been waging a war against such
despondency. The courage displayed by the ones dear and near to me,
comforting words of my friends, the enlightening attitude of the doctors
who were treating me ...all these must have given me strength in my
fight against depression.
Many people dropped in to see me. Even those living far away. Some,
whom I did not even know. Some came not once, but several times.
Strangely, those who rushed to see me when they knew I was very ill,
were not those whom I would have considered 'close' but those whom I
least expected.
Some were old associates who, in the constant changing saga of life,
had moved totally away from our lives. Some were people whom I had never
met or known, but who cared for me for one reason or another.
Some enquired about my health from my wife. Curiously, those who
lived quite close by were the chaps who dribbled in quite late in the
day. Some such persons called over only after they were sure I had
recovered. Perhaps they thought that cancer was contagious! They come
and say - "You know we intended to come much earlier, but don't you
know, with all this work..."
"Don't worry." I would tell them. "I am not all that badly ill.
Please do not neglect your work because of me..."
Then they would look at each other and sigh as if to say - "This man
is not all that ill...What a waste of time...!"
Some who dropped in would hold forth about people known to them who
had cancers and what treatment was given to them, how they faced up to
it... who died and who was spared etc... Some would recommend upon their
souls various others ways to treat cancer - oils, concoctions, herbal
treatment, self treatment, meditation, Bodhi Pooja and a host of other
things.
Listening to them out of courtesy, I would feel tired and retire to
my bed. Some would follow me to the bedroom, sit there and carry on
relentlessly until my wife would find some ploy to wean them away from
me.
"We never even dreamt that you would be afflicted with something like
this..." Some would say - a death certificate written all over their
faces.
Very soon I got used to this kind of 'assault' and devised my own
quiet ways of defense - like thinking of something else or drawing their
attention to something more interesting, like a juicy bit of gossip.
One cannot imagine the amount of advice and health tips one gets in a
situation like cancer. I even received letters recommending certain
clairvoyants who could cure by getting inside my body.
Others wrote in to give the names of persons who could cure by
certain methods and they had specified the amount payable too.
I am sure a fair number of people in this country still believe that
cancer is contagious. It shows in their faces and no amount of assurance
that it was not so would convince them. Finally both of us gave up and
just kept on smiling which invariably put them off. Some even looked
peeved at our smiling effrontery.
Occasionally someone would call and cheerily suggest we go out for
dinner. "I say, there is no point in being confined to your home like
that. Let's go out and have a nice dinner...!" "That's the most
difficult thing for me right now..." I tell them weakly.
"What? What is difficult?" "Eating.." I would say simply. "But that
is impossible..."
The caller says horrified. "It is quite possible!" I insist. "The
effect of these drugs is such, that I get annoyed even to SEE someone
else eating!"
"Really...?" Concludes the caller and the phone goes dead. Now when I
think back I feel it was cruel of me to have responded in that manner,
but the apathy regarding food at that time was such, I could not help
myself.
"We did not know it was such a big operation. We thought it was some
small thing like a hernia." One lady who came visiting ventured to say.
She was a person who had worked with me and knew me for a long time. I
felt a little annoyed.
"So my dear, your visits depend on the length and breadth of the
operation...?" I could not help saying. The lady pulled a long face and
refrained from joining in any further conversation.
To be continued
***
Thought of the Week
Monday, the 3rd of December was a happy day for me. We launched my
book ‘THE PLAY IS THE THING’ on that day at the Library Services and
Documentation Board auditorium. Vijitha Yapa Publications were
responsible for the publication.
Although I had written and published at least two or three books
during the past few years this is the first time after a long time that
we actually enjoyed the delight of a ‘launch’ and I am thankful to Mr.
Vijitha Yapa for making it possible. I am also grateful to Dr. Tissa
Jayatilleke for speaking about the book in a sort of assessment.
It was a very homely and lucid assessment and I feel honoured that he
praised the book as well as me, as a person, so much. Dr. Lakshmi de
Silva to whom I owe a debt of deep gratitude for ‘pushing’ the
publication, so to say, with Mr. Vijitha Yapa, also spoke a few words
recommending the book not necessarily for ‘Theatre’ people, but to any
reader interested in the happenings and doings of a particular era.
I was also very happy to meet some of my old friends like Sylvia
Weerasinghe, Indrani Premawardhana, Santin Gunawardhana, Nimal
Jayasinghe, Lucien Bulathsinhala, Somapala Hewakapuge, Daya and Aditha
Dissanayake, Chula Kariyawasam, Cyril Dharmawardhana and his writer wife
Swarna Rajapakse at the event. I was more than happy that Ramani and
Somasiri Alakolanga who looked after my well being when I was very ill
way back in 1999 had turned up.
Old friends such as Somalatha Subasinghe, Lionel Fernanado, Irangani
Serasinghe, Punyakanthi Wijenaike, Damayanthi Peries, Dr. Abey Gunapala,
Preethimalie and Darshani Abeysekera were also there to share my
happiness. This was also the first time I clearly saw the faces of Tissa
Devendra and Nandasena Bambarwanage - two of my e-mail buddies.
Tissa had contributed a very appreciative review of the book in the
Sunday Observer of 2nd December.
To all of you and all the others present, my humble thanks.
[email protected]
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