The Unwritten Year of My Life

Surviving Hodgkin's Lymphoma- My personal testimony

October to December 2007

      It was just another Saturday in October 2007, until my room mate asked why my face was so puffed up. I had slept like a log and when the swelling subsided in a few hours, I had pushed it to the back of my mind.  Only, it started happening fairly often after that, and I decided to get it checked when I went home for Christmas. I was in Coimbatore then, doing my Post Graduation. When we parted with Happy hols and merry Christmas wishes, we didn't realize it would be a very different me they would all see in 2008.

      I traveled home with a sense of foreboding. In November a classmate had asked me why she was getting Bible verses related to darkness when she prayed for me. The same day mama had called me, upset about a nightmare, where she and I had been alone in a dark room. Darkness again! I was scared. I feared it signified death in the family. Down on my knees I had gone and prayed, "Lord, whatever it is, let it fall on me." And that is what happened.


      The next day we met with my Family Doctor, who identified swollen lymph nodes, ordered an X-Ray of the chest and showed us a huge mass near the lungs. An FNAC, followed by a biopsy sent to The Regional Cancer Center, Trivandrum confirmed it was Hodgkin's Lymphoma (Cancer of the lymph nodes), Stage 2 B. Hodgkin's is very difficult to identify in the earlier stages. I had taken a medicine for acne, which thankfully brought out symptoms which helped in an early detection, and cure. Christmas came and went. We entered 2008 with anxious hearts and heartless greetings, putting up a brave face to each other. 

      My father is a very wise man. As soon as he realized that things were going the way they were, he said that we would keep this to ourselves, and that was the best decision ever. So during this trying period we were saved from what only those who have gone through a similar experience can comprehend.

January 2008

      The university had reopened, and my friends started calling, to ask why I hadn't gone back. I didn't answer their calls. Everyone back home assumed I was back in Coimbatore. Days went by without talking to one human soul other than my parents. There were numerous tests and procedures to be done. The bone marrow test was done painlessly. We were hoping and praying for a miraculous cure without treatment. It was soon the last week of January, when the doctor said it would be 6 cycles of Chemotherapy administered in a total of 12 sittings(Once every two weeks), followed by a month of Radiation. He said we would start with the first round of chemo that same day. I was totally unprepared for that. We understood that a miraculous cure was not part of God's plan. I waited for the nausea, and the much feared hair loss. But it didn't happen. But I knew it could show up at a later stage. We prayed fervently that I shouldn't face the hair fall side effect. 

February 2008

      After repeated attempts to reach me, calls from friends dwindled. At home we maintained a sense of normalcy, by not referring to the sickness. I had a round of chemo once every two weeks. Over eating, odd sleeping hours, switching from lenses to glasses made me a stranger to myself. I had forgotten the spring in my footsteps. Days dragged by. But through all this, we still managed to laugh and have a good family time.

      And then my father broached the unspoken topic. It was mid-February. He asked me what I had decided about my studies. I hadn't thought there was anything to think about it. Immunity issues made it impossible to travel from Nagercoil to Coimbatore, and back to Trivandrum every two weeks. Nor could I let anyone see what I had become. He said that this was just a phase in my life- an year I would look back at from a happy point in time in the future, and that I shouldn't give up now.

      Did I tell you that my father is a very wise man? Those were pearls of wisdom that he had said, but I didn't realize it then. Now I understand what he meant. I understand how much he cared for me, the sorrow he had hid, the pain he felt on seeing his little girl go though what he would gladly have taken up on himself if he could have. But at that time I thought he was horrid for being so practical, for not understanding how I felt. But father wanted me to think about it.

      Again I went to the only consolation I know, my heavenly father. Anger and helplessness poured out in hot tears. As I stood on my knees, it happened. A plan descended from above (None of my thought process involved, I swear) and I knew how it was to be done. I had to move my cycles from Tuesdays to Thursdays, travel to Coimbatore and stay with my mom in the hostel, talk to the professors and get schedules adjusted, work hard and cover all lagging assignments and tests. Then I would travel to Nagercoil on the Wednesday of the second week, get treated, and I could be back in college by Monday. I told my mom who through tears said she had had the same experience in her prayer and had come to tell it to me. We checked with my good doctor who said I could travel with caution, and wished me the best. Everything was happily settled, I knew I could do it - It was God's plan.

      Appa, mama and I prepared to travel by the night bus to Coimbatore. Just before setting out of the house, I was combing my hair when I saw great locks of my hair coming off. I was stunned, as were my parents. I cried. Just when everything had started to look bright. But dad said, ''Let's go, we have everything set. We planned this.''

      "No!" I wanted to scream. We didn't plan this. I didn't plan for this. But he said I could always come back, and that we'd go this once to see if anything could be done about my studies. And so we went.

      I said I had altered much, but I wasn't prepared for friends and professors to pass me by without a hint of recognition. And when they did recognize, I wished I was back home away from all eyes and enquiries. But we had come to get something done, and so we met one professor after the other, always maintaining that I was ill, but not letting out that it was malignant. Everyone was understanding except for one, who I address here as Mr.X. So many changes had taken place in my absence and Mr. X was the new acting Director. He was against my continuing that year, and said to my Dad's face that I was wasting everyone's time. My father managed to persuade him to give me a chance. He agreed to decide after continuously monitoring my progress. I had to stick to the original plan of travelling between Coimbatore, Trivandrum and Nagercoil in order to sit for the exam that year.

      So Papa went home, mama and I stayed behind. It was more difficult than I had thought. Everything was changed and everyone had learnt to live without me. Even those friends who really mattered had to be kept away because of immunity issues, and because they couldn't be let in on my condition. I missed the carefree life, and craved to be a part of the fun group I had once belonged to. Chemo reduces the body's resistance and I knew that one sickness would be a major set back on what I hoped to achieve. That and the ever rising back log ensured that I left the minute classes got over. Most professors were good enough to schedule my tests as late as 7:00 PM and then I would  head to the library and would go back to my room at 9:00 PM when they closed the library. By now I was experiencing Nausea, sleeplessness, and my receding hair was an ever pressing concern. I took longer to recover, and I was in college for fewer days than I had planned.

      And it finally happened. I woke up one day to see the look on mama's face. No words were needed, it was past the stage of covering up. In the cover of darkness we left the hostel, and bought a suitable wig and caught the night bus to Nagercoil.

      And I thought that was the end of my adventures. I had given my best, maybe this is how far God had intended me to go. But again my dad persuaded me to go back. How could I go back from scanty hair, to a head full of locks? Everyone would ask. Papa said no one would. I don't know how I managed to go back, but I did. Somehow no one asked, and I am grateful. And I thought it couldn't get any worse. I was wrong.

      It was time for the exams. We had four papers, and each paper had two internal tests. There was a minimum score to be able to clear the exams, both in internal and external. I had only Mr.X's internals left, and I went to his room to collect the question paper. With a grunt he handed me the sheet, and it was tough - as if customized to 'monitor my progress'. I was doubtful of my performance, and back at the hostel everyone booed over the difficulty of the questions set. The next week I went for the second internal test, praying to get a easier set of questions, or I wouldn't get an MBA degree after all. With a grunt he handed me the question paper, and Thank God, it was the same set of questions - Only this time I knew all the answers. I looked at him, wondering if I should tell him. Conscience! But his nasty, "What?" made me change my mind, and I started scribbling all my brilliant answers, and needless to say, I cleared in flying colors.

      Phew! All troubles were now come to an end. But I was wrong again. Eight of us were called to the office for "Lack of attendance." Mr.X, as the acting Director had the authority to allow us to sit for the exams after paying the necessary fine amount. He let the other seven who had bunked classes to go to movies and outing to pay the fine, but said I had to repeat the year, as my foundation wasn't strong. I sat there in the big hall, feeling numb, as everyone received their hall tickets, surrounded by friends who were murmuring, "If only Pathi sir (Our Director, who was in Singapore on a Teaching tenure) was here, he would have taken care of everything ." But he wasn't there. All the struggle of so many months - all for nothing.

      And suddenly all buzzing stopped, and the crowd made way, and I looked up and saw Pathy sir walk past astonished students, obviously enjoying the sensation he had created. No one knew he was in India, in fact he had arrived only that day, and left on the same day. He handed me my hall ticket, wished me and left. God had sent him at that crucial moment. Bless him.

May 2008 to 2009

      I started for home as soon as my exams got over. I had done well. Mama had another dream, where I was wading through a torrent but almost at the shore to safety. The results were published. I was officially an MBA Graduate. My treatment came to an end by mid September. My hair slowly started growing back and in the last week of November, I went to Chennai to search for a job. With the recession, all attempts at getting a job with a decent salary failed, and in May 2009, I joined RedEgg, Nagercoil.

December 2011

      By now I was back to my old form, long hair and all. I was in perfect health, the disease in remission. I still followed up once a year. My career life was blooming and the question of my marriage arose. Proposals were coming in plenty. I wanted the boy to know about my medical history. I knew telling them about it might scare them off, but if there was a possibility that he wouldn't marry me if he knew, he should have the choice. I also trusted God to bring the right person to me, and if it was God's will that I should remain single, so be it. I prayed I wouldn't have to face a turn down, or to make a compromise in marriage because of my history.

      I believed in miracles, I have seen plenty in my life, and I hoped for one now. From the age of 14, and throughout the period of treatment and after, I had continued to pray for Andrew - my Andrew whom I didn't even know existed. (You really need to stop here and read https://vidyascolumn.blogspot.ae/2012/07/power-of-prayer-my-testimony.html to understand)

      I had been rejecting proposals by confusing reality with fantasy. Into the night I begged God for His forgiveness. But the next day morning, we got a call, and I met Andrew the next day(Yeah, Andrew was for real after all, Hurray). He was perfect - the man of my dreams. We were thrilled as a family, but Andrew was yet to be told.  Would he and his family still be happy to proceed if they knew? Now that I am a mother, I can understand the conflicts my parents faced, knowing they'd forever be tormented if things didn't work out.

      I will never forget that New years day. My parents left for Andrew's home, to tell them about my history. I stayed back and cried - I cried because I had put them through this, I cried because my parents were facing possible humiliation on my account. And that was a crushing thought. I spent the entire time in prayer, and my parents came back, and mama gave me a thumps up sign through a teary smile. And we breathed.

      Andrew had resorted to prayer as well. Andrew's cousin, Sheeba acca, a Gynaecologist had guided him spiritually and medically. Andrew's dad had, as well. It helped Andrew to proceed in his decision with confidence. We started talking, and very quickly I understood God was giving me a gem of a human being. And we got married on my birthday in 2012. And it is Andrew who encouraged me write this today.

(Photo: Andrew and me in 1991)

      There were days when I had wondered why they called it a cure. The treatment was painful, the ensuing days filled with nausea, and pain that I thought it would have been an easier end, had there been no medicines. Now, 8 years later, I am living the happy time that papa had spoken about. I am glad the medicines were invented. Because of that, I lived to see this day, and hold my dear children. Too many coincidences that it is impossible to doubt the existence of a living God. He makes a way even in the ordeal He allows us. Thank God for using me as His living testimony.

      I hear you, I read your thoughts! It would have been much better if He hadn't let any of these happen in the first place. But who am I, mere mortal to declare what is or isn't good for me? I don't even know if it's a head or a tail in the toss of a two sided coin.
     
      Would I have prayed differently if I had known what I was asking for? Probably not. I grew closer to God and my family. Regrets over missed opportunities chocked me, built in me a drive to succeed, and to overcome my fears. That it made me intolerant towards those who didn't understand the preciousness of time and life was the downside of this. I wish that I had learnt to strike a balance. I wish I had learnt to be more patient and tolerant. Those lessons took longer to learn. Forgive me for that.
     
      To my appa, thank you for being my strong hold, for being strong when I was weak, for being my guide, for pushing me forward when I would have faltered. Thank you for not letting me give up.

      Thank you, mama, for being with me throughout, for growing stronger as I grew weaker, for always making me laugh even when the medicines flew through my body, for always being my friend, my spiritual guide, for forgiving my impatience and my temper.

      Thank you bro, for being as always, my "big brother". Your support, love and understanding meant so much.

      Thank you love, for being my rock. Thank you for being mine, wonderful father of my children. I am a better person because of you. And because of you I can talk about this today.

      To you, dear reader, I ask for understanding. I hope reading this helps answer the many why's and how's you had about me.

      God's will be done. Good or bad comes from above. But in the end, He does make things beautiful in His time.

" God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
  Courage to change the things I can,
  And the wisdom to know the difference." - Reinhold Niebuhr