RIP: Dear Warrior!
By
Vivek Hande
I lost a
patient the two years ago on this very date , after a valiant
fight with his multiple ailments
for the past five years. He was sixty eight going on eighteen when he died. He
was under my care but on several occasions, I actually felt it was he who was doling
out medical and every other kind of advice to me.
He was actually more than a patient. I learnt
many things from him. I probably got much more from him than I could give him.
He was suffering from Hepatocellular Carcinoma(Cancer of the Liver). He had
undergone surgery for the same and suffered through chemotherapy and its side
effects. He subsequently developed Kidney failure and required weekly dialysis.
To make things worse, he also had severe bronchial asthma and required
nebulizers and a lot of other medications. He did not consider his Hypertension
a problem at all and that was considered part of the background score. He was
truly and verily , nothing short of a walking medical disaster. He gulped down pills and capsules by the
dozen thrice a day. He could recollect his weekly blood reports by memory. He
was a walking medical dictionary and read up constantly and updated himself on
all his ailments. He knew the adverse effects and consequences of all the
medical procedures he had been subjected to over the years.
He had every reason
to ask the Lord why he had been singled out for attention and why he had every
conceivable medical problem. He had reason to be frustrated and upset with
life.
And yet,
not once did I see him pity himself or curse his fate. I am sure, he must have
had his lows and felt miserable physically and psychologically. But not once
did he let it play out on his face. He always maintained a cheerful demeanor; a
smile playing on his face. He bore his infirmities with grace and dignity. He
would often ask me to take it easy and lighten up and start enjoying life. He
would tell me that before I realized, life would slip away. He would encourage
me to take the weekends off and spend more time with my family. In a large
measure, he was the one responsible for motivating me to take up Golf as a
sporting pursuit. Every time, I tee off , I invariably remember him . As the
disease got hold of him in a vice like grip, he knew his countdown had begun. His
days were numbered and he was ready for it.
I saw him shrinking away each day. He was passionate about cricket .He had
predicted an India – Sri Lanka final before the tournament got warmed up. Lying
on the hospital bed with drips and catheters invading him, he would cheer every
Indian victory on the television. He was not alive to see the match , but I am
certain ,he was fervently praying from the skies for an Indian triumph. He
taught me self belief, he showed me grace and dignity – the dead man truly
showed me how to live life!! RIP , dear warrior..
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