Sunday, October 29, 2017

Prerna: From hopelessness to hope

Tata Memorial Hospital (TMH) organised a programme  to raise awareness on breast cancer and salute the individuals who grapple with the disease. The unique event, on 30th October, 2017 - ‘Inspiring Art from Adversity’, was built around the aesthetic exposition and expression of human will and determination in troubled circumstances. Bringing about a creative synergy to the experience of breast cancer, the students of the renowned JJ School of Art were commissioned by Abbott Pharmaceuticals to depict a cancer patient’s pathway using the refined medium of art. This grand initiative that generated twenty-five art masterpieces was appropriately titled, “Prerna (inspiration)”. 

I was invited on this occasion to share my experience. Here is the text of my speech:


I am honoured to be here and sharing the stage with Ms. Devika Bhojwani and Ruby Ahluwalia. Ruby is a dear friend and I have witnessed her journey at close quarters. When Nishu called me, my first reaction was that I have nothing to my credit so what can I possibly share…..But even as she persuaded me, I realised that all of us who have been through this experience have made some difference somewhere and if nowhere else, then at least each one of us has grown and transformed for the better. Destiny has a way of choosing its subjects very carefully …..choosing the ones who will make a difference as Devika, Ruby, and many more have done. So I try to remember that I am among the chosen ones.

Cancer was, and still is, spoken in hushed tones and obituaries thought of and drafted as soon as the diagnosis is delivered. It is also associated with a painful end. Our movies and media have only served to reinforce this. In fact, this notion was so deeply embedded in my consciousness that if I was playing rapid fire and you said cancer I would have responded with hopelessness or end or some such word. This is of course before my own brush with cancer. Now my response would be curable or second chance. I first saw cancer at close quarters when my father in law was diagnosed with the disease in 1995 and underwent treatment at TMH for the following seven years. It was a difficult journey for him and all of us.

It was while he was being treated for recurrence of cancer that I felt a very small hard nodule in my breast….I say nodule because it was so small it did not deserve the status of a lump. I ignored it. It didn’t even cross my mind that it was worth investigating. Soon it grew into a lump in a matter of four months. That’s when I first saw a doctor. The verdict was cancer. And as you will all agree nothing prepares you for this diagnosis. I had seen and nursed my father in law through cancer……but it is one thing to tell someone how to handle the diagnosis and treatment and quite another to practise it.

My diagnosis came at a time when my father in law was not too well and needed a lot of assistance and care. We did not want to upset him with my diagnosis and add to his burden so we kept up a pretence of all being well and I decided to do all initial hospital trips for tests etc. on my own. It kept me busy and left me with little time to brood. Further, I imagined the journey would be a long one and I wanted my family to conserve their energy for a time when I needed it more. After all life will and has to go on.

I count myself among the fortunate ones who are blessed with good health (yes I had cancer but I was in good shape otherwise) and resources …..I mean finances, friends and family. Friends were my great support. Family was my strength and weakness too. I realised that they were suffering as much if not more than me. And I can’t tell you how grateful I was to God that it was me and not them. This I could bear, that I could not have.

For me, the simplest way I can describe my experience is  that it was a journey of faith ……faith in everything…..doctor, hospital, god, destiny, goodness, self……that everything that was happening was good for me in some way……and believe me it was. I wasn’t young when I was diagnosed…..I was 43……it seems young now though…….but cancer made me realise that I was living life pretty thoughtlessly and like I was going to live forever. Putting off things for tomorrow……whether it was an apology, or charity or fun and enjoyment, or pursuing my interests, or calling and visiting old friends and relatives. The biggest reminder this disease gave me was that I was mortal….. Tomorrow may literally not come …….Life as it existed would end one day. So every moment is precious…..not necessarily to be used in some way but definitely to be savoured.  To be alive took on a new meaning. My doctor (no marks for guessing who it is….Dr. Badwe) helped me realise that it is not the length of one’s life that is material but how well it is lived. And that thought or sentiment stayed with me and guided me through. You know, after my mother underwent cataract surgery, she was delighted because, though nothing in the house or environment had changed, all the colours seemed brighter and clearer. Cancer did that to me. That’s the closest analogy I can think of. Everything was the same as before but every experience became sharper, sweeter, and brighter.  I consciously stopped thinking or questioning how long I would live. Tried to live each day as well as I could in the circumstances.

I am by nature impatient. But at TMH you have to wait and wait and wait. You will be seen but you have to wait.  The treatment and TMH taught me patience or maybe surrender is a better word. By surrender I don’t mean give up. Sometimes you have to surrender and conserve your energy rather than fighting what cannot be changed. During chemotherapy, often the discomfort is not eased by anything….you just have to wait it out. You can crib or cry or curse but the body and the drugs take their own time. One learns “This too shall pass”. And this training has stood me very well in many life situations faced later.

I learnt many things about breast cancer, its increasing incidence in urban India, lack of awareness about it which made for poor prognosis and survival, and cultural inhibitions among women in talking about their bodies and bodily changes and so on. I was also acutely aware of all the emotional upheaval that the patient and family goes through. I was very keen to contribute in some way towards spreading awareness about breast cancer and also providing support to those going through it. One always emerges stronger from this experience but it is nice if there is someone to hold your hand while you walk just to encourage you when you may be losing hope or help you shift your perspective. I had so many who helped me on this journey and I almost felt compelled to contribute in some way.

I was a risk averse, tread the straight and narrow kind of person. Having come so close to losing it all I learnt to take some risks. Cancer gave me the strength and insight to confront my insecurities and gather the courage to leave a job where I was stagnating in every way but was not quitting because status quo was so comfortable. Then I could devote time for volunteering at TMH and other social causes. Between then and now I also did things which I never thought I would attempt……I started a blog, learnt swimming and singing and blithely performed at social gatherings! These maybe easy things for many but for me they were milestones!

However I did have inhibitions in talking about cancer and my experience on a public platform.. It took me quite some time to get over that. It is my doctor who egged me on and the first time I shared my journey with breast cancer was at the breast cancer support conference in 2006. Talking about it publicly was cathartic and I realised that was when I healed completely….. inside out.

In 2007, along with a survivor I met during my treatment and now a very dear friend, and supported and encouraged by Dr. Badwe, Dr. Parmar and Dr. Sarin we introduced a post operative rehabilitation cum group counselling session for the breast cancer patients with a small takeaway which includes a bag to carry the drain and a small cushion to support the arm. This is well institutionalised now. And this friend is none other than Mamta Goenka, now a three time survivor and a very well-known face and loved volunteer at TMH.

For me coming to TMH has always been like a pilgrimage. The courage and resilience of the patients never fails to inspire. My own troubles fade into insignificance and remind me to be grateful. I deeply admire all the doctors and staff here and have learnt a lot by observing their dedication and compassion. So I will sign off by saying that I do believe that my tryst with cancer has been enlightening and transforming and since my husband and daughter are not present here to contradict me… I can safely say that I am a better person for this experience. I try to never forget

Que será, será
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que será, será


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