"Faith can be Fulfilling"

                                                                 By

                                                           J.L. Gupta

 

A nagging headache took me to the medico. After a few minutes, a look at the monitor indicated that my brain was still growing. To have a clearer view, the doctor gave me an injection. At the end, he merely advised me to show the film to an expert. I did.

After a look at the film, the doctor examined me. He asked, "Do you walk into people?

"Not unintentionally." Can you walk on your toes?" I did. Heels? I demonstrated that I could quickly take to my heels. Still,,  he announced - "you have a tumour in your brain." A few scans and tests were prescribed.

These were cumbersome. Heavy doses of medicated fluids and injections. However, in the evening, armed with all the reports, I was with another surgeon. He had a good look at the films and other reports. Then, he examined me. Finally, he announced – “You have a brain tumour. I suspect, it could be ‘glio blastoma.’ The size is 6cm x 4cm x 3cm. It needs to be taken out.” The date was fixed.

A day earlier, on Aug. 27, 2012, I had entered the medical facility. I was examined by the anaesthesia team. And then met Dr. Rana Patir, the leader of the neurosurgery team. We had a little chat.

He was candid. “The tumours, like the one you have are aggressive. These can reappear even after surgery. This problem is normally considered incurable. However, I shall do my best.”

Strangely, I was totally calm. Not even surprised. Nor inclined to resign myself to fate. I was determined to fight.  I told the doctor – “I know, you are being cautious. Do not want to give me any false hope. But let me tell you that we shall make history. You will do a good job. I shall be fine. Your words are based on the experience of other surgeons. I suspect that while operating, they are scared of the law suits and the billion dollar decrees. Afraid of adversely affecting a body function, they leave a part of the tumour inside.  It grows again. Ultimately, the problem is considered incurable. I can't imagine that in today’s world any condition  can be called incurable.

And then, I said, “you do your best. Be aggressive. Remove whatever looks bad. And if something bad happens, nobody from my family shall even point a finger at you. God shall guide you. Everything shall be fine!”

Next morning, the hospital staff came to wheel me to the operation theatre.

The whole family was present. Even the nephews and nieces with their spouses. I could see anxiety on their faces. Each one of them seemed to be saying a silent prayer. Together, they seemed like a solid wall. A big support. I chose to walk with them. Assured them that all shall be well. Soon I shall be back with them. Sent SMS to anxious friends ‘Dear ... About to go to the OT. Shall call ..!’

Minutes later, at exact 10.00 I was in the theatre complex. The team except the chief surgeon was there. With their permission, I spoke and said, “You are competent. I am confident. You either mend me or end me. Just do not leave me handicapped. And,   even if it turns out to be the last mile on the road of my life today, I shall like to walk it on my own gas. Not on borrowed blood. I requested the doctor to check my BP. He did and announced. 70/120.

What happened then? Late in the evening, I was woken up. In the ICU. The clock showed 7.30 PM. I requested the doctor to call my family. Though groggy, yet, I can recall a conscious effort to check my own vitals. Remember having met the family members. Could see anxiety in their eyes. But I felt totally relaxed. At about 10 PM, I requested the nurse to ring up the room and tell the family that I was feeling fine and going to sleep. Silently, I imagined that the tumour had been removed. The healthy tissue was healing. I shall soon be up and about. Back to routine. With that invisible thought and image implanted inside me, I dozed off.  As usual, I slept well.

 

Got up in the morning. Wanted a toast and a cup of tea. The nurse, who had been monitoring the flow of fluids and other parameters through the night, told me firmly– ‘not till the doctors’ round. And finally, when the doctors came, one of them removed the vent that had been put to suck out the blood from the site of surgery. Put a stitch. I was taken for an MRI. Before I was back to my bed, the surgeon had seen the images on his laptop. Always a man of few words, he looked and sounded happy. I was not surprised.

 

 

I was doing well. By a sheer coincidence, on my wife’s birthday, Aug. 30, I was shifted to the room. Being back with the family and that too on an auspicious day felt good. However, something happened. Hospital infection. Fall in Sodium level. And so on. Tests, which included a lumbar puncture, confirmed Meningitis. I was back in the ICU. Three effusion pumps were pumping antibiotics into me. Some days later, I was back in the room. Ultimately, on Sept. 18, I was allowed to leave the hospital. Since then, I have gone through Radio therapy and some cycles of Chemo. Met a few more medicos. All considerate and kind. Made difficulties look less difficult.

And then, Mohini and I watched the CDs of the surgery. The electric drill to make a hole. The cutter to cut a part of the occipital bone. The continuous cutting, bleeding, washing, suction and all else was there to see on the screen. At the end, everything seemed to have been done very clinically and cosmetically.

Looking back, it is clear that there was a real adversity. Yet, by His grace, I was totally calm, cool, comfortable and confident. No negative thought crossed the mind. How and why? Difficult to explain, but it was there. Was it on account of the innate  faith in Him and the unconditional surrender to Him? Or was it a purely divine blessing?

God has His own ways. Ordinary mortals cannot fathom everything. He blessed me with the continuous support of the family and friends. They have stood firmly with me like a rock. Prayed day and night. SwamiJi’s assurance that “There is an army invoking the divine blessings for you;” Andrew, whom I have not met so far, has been continuously sharing attunements. Alan & Jean Hammond have remained in constant contact. Support has been coming from friends in every nook and corner. All combined to make me feel wanted. Made the adversity look less adverse. The impossible look possible.  Just as fruit follows the flower, fulfilment of  wishes follows faith.