THE BATTLE WITHIN
Diary: Week One. The 6th of October is a date I can never forget. George Michael released his iconic song ‘Faith’ on this day in 1987. The Yom Kippur War started on this day in 1973 when Syria and Egypt attacked Israel. Adolf Hitler decided to go to war against France and Great Britain on 6th October 1939. Alfred Tennyson died on 6th October 1892 and I was reborn on 6th October 2019. The day started like any other — a beautiful autumn day in Chandigarh.
It was to be a busy day. Enroute to office I was to stop by at the Command Hospital Chandimandir for a chest CT, followed by back to back office meetings and an appointment with the Editor, The Times of India. The young radiologist who was to do the CT scan had seen my routine chest Xray the day before and called for this CT scan, which was done by 1030 am. Lytic lesions were found on a few ribs and vertebrae. The diagnosis was “Metastasis or Multiple Myeloma” and I was referred to the Hematologist. A quick check on google told me that I had a battle on my hands. With exactly 54 days left for my superannuation from the Indian Army, and my under-construction home at least six months from completion, we were already engaged with the impending transformation. But this turned everything on its head. The meetings for the day went through as scheduled as preparations for the Republic Day Parade and inter-directorate competitions for the Prime Minister’s Rally were nearing finalization. After a fruitful meeting with the Editor of The Times of India, I emailed an article to support their anti-drug abuse campaign ‘Bol Dal’, which was published the next day. I also needed to think this through before leaving for home at 5 pm. During the interludes I let my mind wander between images of the “Grim Reaper’s Scythe” and visions of a healthy and full retired life. But when I left for home, I was still undecided. Undecided how to break the news. Whether to feign bravado or wallow in self-pity. But the cosmos had already decided. The printed CT scan report had reached home just before me and Sherry had read it. When I casually mentioned the CT she pulled out the report and asked me how I could have gone to office and through the day, as if nothing had happened. And being a Saturday, we would now need to wait till Monday before meeting the Hematologist for a final diagnosis. Having borne the brunt of my mothers’ three-year cancer regression and her father’s three-year partial paralysis followed by his recent loss, she broke out in an anguished cry — God can’t do this to us! That was the moment something clicked — I promised her that all would be well and that if we were strong together, we would ride this storm too. We decided to go out for dinner as a family — the beer was good!
Sunday was spent researching the subject as a family learning the cancer lexicon, but nothing prepared us for the week that followed. On Monday, the Hematologist ordered a battery of tests and scans, preferring to reserve his diagnosis till the results arrived. Being otherwise completely asymptomatic but moving from hospital to hospital, test after test and sensing the concern and sympathy, can be disconcerting. I had to work hard not to start feeling sick and soon realized that the best way was to remain engaged — with work and passions. As the reports kept coming in, we continued to consult with specialists in India and abroad, spoke to survivors and joined a global and an Indian self-help Multiple Myeloma group. And as family and friends learnt about the affliction, the shower of love and affection gave us immense strength. By Saturday all the tests were in and the diagnosis was unanimous — Multiple Myeloma Stage 2A.
A beautiful verse from Gurbani struck a chord. “Dukh Daaru Sukh Rog bhayaa, jaa Sukh Taam na hoi” (Suffering is the medicine, and pleasure is disease, because where there is pleasure, there is no remembrance of God). Though always spiritually inclined, I now began to understand the true meaning of ‘the almighty’ through Guruji. A few months before my diagnosis, I connected with Guruji out of the blue. Seeing the suffering of other multiple myeloma afflicted on social media groups, I began to sense his blessings in my early diagnosis and I found my meaning and path in ‘Asa-Di-War Sahib’ (Sikh scriptures) and regular meditation. I realised that the pain of Multiple Myeloma was a medicine and the pathway to ‘the Almighty’ through Guruji and began sensing his presence.
TO BE CONTINUED
