The Fear of the C-Word.....

I was standing just outside the medical center. A strange feeling crept into my being, suddenly. I tried to identify it. Oh! The fear factor? Probably. But how could I be afraid of “nothing” – probably nothing – hopefully nothing. 

Before it could engulf me totally I tried to shrug it off. A deep breath often does wonders – that's what the oft-read guidelines said. I took a deep breath, pushed my shoulders back and stood tall; added some sparkles to my eyes and climbed the stairs with a beaming face. The doorman politely held the glass door ajar for me and i gave him the brightest morning smile with a polite, “thanks” accompanying it. 

Guess he was not used to such a response from the “mostly patients” types who normally walked in through that door. He was about to reiterate back into his “statue” mode when my supposedly contagious smile made him give me a quick glance – and this time he was smiling too! 

I stood in the queue at the registration counter, waiting for my turn. To my left there were around 40 people seated on neatly arranged sofas, in probably equally anxious state of mind. I would have loved to guess what they were thinking when the receptionist’s “yes ma'm?” interrupted my own thoughts. I paused for a brief second and whispered, “mammogram.” 

“A what ma’m?”

Aah did I whisper it a little too soft for those alert ears? By now I had gotten rid of the “oh-not-so me” slouch and was standing tall.

"A mammogram please.” I heard myself say with that resplendent smile back on my face. 

“Oh, how old are you?" Before I could answer that, there was a rejoinder from her. “Who is the doctor who has recommended that?"

I smiled, “No one.”

The queue existed behind me and she was aware of it. So the hurried pressing of the keys leading to the routine gurgling of the printer, ushered me into the waiting area, with the slip in my hand. I looked around. The 40-something crowd was as it would be, at any diagnostic center. A couple with a 4 year old with the worried expression of “anxious” alert parents of today, was seated next to me. A young couple, excitement brimming out of their faces was probably on the verge of starting their family. I love reading – be it books or people’s mind, but only those who are strangers to me. I was beginning to make myself comfortable doing what I love when I heard someone call out my name.

“Anjali!”  

I looked at the girl in white apron. She looked doubtfully at me, 

“A mammogram??” 

“Oh yes.” 

I followed her to the room at the end of the corridor. That feeling popped up again – only this time it was a bit familiar – i had felt it when i had arrived at the center. No, but why should I be afraid, huh! 

I was being asked to fill out a form. The initial questions were the usual Name, Age, Details thing. 

The next question asks any family history of breast cancer? I think of my mom and my sister and can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Nah, now is not the time. 

“The power of positive thinking” advises you against such thoughts. I quickly write NO and move to the next question. 

As I hand over the paper back to the technician, she directs me to the machine. While the first slide is being taken I wonder if the Police must be using this as “3rd degree,” to get the truth out of criminals! I cringe in pain. I am shocked by the brutality of the whole process. And when she releases the plates I ask her, 

“Aah is it over?” 

“No, three sets more of that!” said with so much ease, like I am being told about the joy rides I can avail of, in the package I have purchased at Essel World! 

She adjusts the plates at a new angle. My collar bone is about to crackle between the metal plates as she further brings them closer. I tell myself, it’s OK. I think of the small marble temple at home and of the deity within it. I resign. 

I am told it’s over. I smile weakly at her and say, “That was painful!!” Almost a whisper. Oh that’s not me! 

I look at her cheerfully and say a crisp “thank you”. 

She is confused. She attempts to smile back at me. I encourage her with a wider smile this time. And she is able to smile. She tells me to go back to the lounge and wait, while the films come up. 

I walk tall, find a place amidst the anxious people once again. This time I decide to read the paper. They are still talking about the new year! The celebrations and the jubilations! 

I fold the paper neatly and put it down. 

I look out of the window…..there is a dark cloud in the distant sky…..and i stare at it…....wondering if it has a silver lining! 

A Thing of Beauty.....

I was 3rd in the queue and she was 4th. So we sat in the same lounge, waiting for our turns, to be examined by the country’s top oncologist, in the world class hospital. I had seen her stepping into the lounge some 30 minutes back, with a middle aged man and wondered what was she doing here. It’s not usual to see someone like her in the breast-cancer section, so i conveniently presumed she was accompanying an ailing relative, maybe her mom.

I saw my name flash on the giant LCD, asking me to report to room no. 102.  I stepped in and was immediately followed in by her. She sat beside me. I never ever talk to strangers, be it a flight or a rail journey or a tourist spot in some city of the world....but i turned towards her, when finally i had no doubt that she was here for herself. 

I smiled and gently asked her, “So you are here for....”

An eager reply in a little accented English interrupted my query half way through, “Yup, a follow up!”

I mumbled, “A follow up? Err...u mean......u actually had ......”

“Ah yeah, I had a lump....and I got it removed here, a year back,” very casually put by her.

“Ah a lump? Benign? ” I was still a little shy with my questions.

“Oh yes benign!” You could not miss the sweet smile on her face.

“Why did you get it removed then? I mean.....if it was benign....”

“Oh well, you know I actually was treated for lymphoma just prior to that, so a benign lump also needed to go...that’s why!” She unfolded her denim clad legs and relaxed herself, appearing cool as a cucumber, in that high tension room.

“Lymphoma.....you had lymphoma....i mean you are.....too young....”

“Yup, I know, I am too young for all this..” She cut me mid-way and beamed again.

I turned towards her fully......had a good look of her.........and saw a  sweet, overzealous, petite frame of a bubbly  kid,  in a pair of faded denim and a tee to go with it!

“I... err.... i shouldn’t be asking but how old are you???” I muttered to her.

“Oh I am 20 now....” she looked nothing more than 14-15 though.... “and i had lymphoma at 18, just before my boards” another piece of information that took  the casual talk further.

“It must have been tough...”

“Not at all!  It was like, all right!!”  She smiled casually at me!

I grinned foolishly, “oh yeah, i mean yes i know, it’s all about how one takes it.”

The conversation just took off from there. When i replay the whole thing now, i am amazed how in just a few minutes, she knew where i came from, what i did, how my dad had been my guiding force and how i felt at sea, when i was left to do whatever i wanted, after moving to a hostel! How i was able to relate to my students and how i was so excited that college life never really got over for me! How I wanted to pursue literature and actually ended up studying engineering for the rest of my life, and not regretting it one bit!

In those few minutes, I knew she was still doing the sonnets of Shakespeare in the first semester of her Bachelors in English, and not the full plays! I don’t know why and how  i even verified that  she was being taught Keats and we could actually discuss him, sitting amongst 6 other ladies, who were stone- cold, with the fear of the C- word.

I actually did not realise there were others, till I was asked to proceed to the examining table, and she to the other. The intern called out, “Anjali.......and..... Priyanjali....” I turned towards her....was her name actually Priy-anjali.....and she grinned, “I knew it all along...had seen it on the display outside!”

I laughed softly, for no reason probably, but a little surprised, with the coincidence. Was there a little of me in her.....or a little of her, was me? Would this coincidence be able to justify the “connect” that was  there from the time we had met....would this justify how I identified her from the sea of people who sat in that lounge from the moment she had entered.....or did it really matter!

The doctor went through his routine questions. Smiled all along. Encouraging during it all. He enquired about any developments that I might have noticed.

I wondered, had I ever really cared to check......thought of the consistent pain, deep in my heart....thought of the person I had lost to the C-word, some time back........put up a smile, and said, “ No.”

He asked me to see him after a year. The intern was a little confused. She tried to point out that the reports I was carrying were yet to be seen, but was waved off by the doctor. She hurriedly waved a warm good bye to me, within minutes of my being on the table.  

I collected my stuff and came out through the various doors, into the lounge. As I was stuffing the papers back in my bag, I heard a nervous voice behind me.

“Are you through?” a middle aged Bengali gentleman, whispered to me.

I was about to brush him off with a mild “Oh yes” when he added hesitantly, “My daughter was immediately after you. I was wondering...”

I dropped my bag and the papers on the sofa....and turned to him, all charged up!

“Oh she is being examined right now and would be out any minute,” I informed warmly.“Sir, you must be one proud dad because you have a wonderful daughter! She has a long way to go...and she will be an inspirational story, for years to come! God bless her....” I gushed, all excited.

I saw the tears....roll down......

“Parents....!” I thought to myself.

“Sir, I will always pray for her health and happiness!!” I tried to cheer him up but was so overwhelmed.

I wanted to stay....to talk to him......to give him hope.

I wanted to stay...to meet her when she came out...and give her a big hug!

 

I could not do any of it because I was ushered out that moment, by a really concerned (and by now totally confused) someone.

As the car crawls out of the hospital premises, my thoughts go back to her....and guess she will always remain with me. 

The words of Keats - another common factor between us are ringing in my ears,

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever...its loveliness increases....it will never pass into nothingness!!"