When fate hands you a lemon - II
If horses run, can dogs be far behind??
Ankhiyon se neend churaata hai
Sachche jhoothe khwaab dikhaata hai yehi
Hansaata hai yehi yehi rulaata hai”
Yeh to chemo che, ye to chemo che!
That’s one thing I found common with love and chemotherapy. Saari saari raat jagate yahi, ankhiyon se neend churaata hai! Sleepless nights, drowsy days, nausea, all were part of the package called chemotherapy, the life saving treatment for cancer. Still I found that cancer times can be fun-filled and normal, like any other.
With nausea hitting me in waves after chemotherapy, gulping down a few morsels was torture to me. Added to that was the agony of sounds, even normal everyday ones. A few days post chemotherapy, tolerating any form of noise was difficult for me. Imagine my exasperation and irritation when one morning my ears were assailed by the strident sound of drums from the nearby compound. It was unbearable. Then I really understood how the Gauls must have felt when Cacofonix, their bard, started singing. No wonder they gagged him and tied him up securely to a tree, while enjoying their merry feasts of roasted boars.
Wondering where hubby dear had disappeared, I looked around only to see him laughing his head off, in the balcony. He was there, beckoning me to join him, to view a hilarious scene, no doubt, from the expression on his face. Weak and feeling all nauseous, I smiled from my seat at the dining table, my mother cajoling me to eat something to regain some strength.
The drums had temporarily died down and there he was inside the room pantomiming what happened outside. The drums were part of a wedding baarat getting ready to leave. The decibel level of the firecrackers and drums frightened the horse, who took to its heels sans the groom.
The Sardarjis of the family ran behind the horse and would the dogs be left out? The street dogs, not to be accused of letting a fleeing horse run, raced behind, barking madly and the whole battalion in motion was an amusement to the bystanders! The scene enacted in front of me had the desired effect and I was laughing, a bit disappointed at not having witnessed the fun.
Alopecia is one side effect of chemotherapy. In two weeks my hair started falling in bunches and within a month I was totally bald. My doctor had suggested that I go in for a wig, but I chose to have the “Persis Khambatta” look. Combs, hairbands, hairclips all disappeared from my dressing table. Photos of my “motta thala” ( bald head) was sent to all my friends with the title “suppandi look”, which had some in splits and some commenting it looked cute! These were small things that added spice to my life during the treatment.
Getting a few hindi words mixed up also created some fun at the hospital. ”angootha andar kar do” the nurse would say as she was about to administer the saline. And I would be confused as to how I was to fold my fingers to keep my wedding ring in. I made kathakali actions to hubby dear standing nearby. He smiled as he explained “angootha not angoothi” It clicked!
With all this and more around, I definitely had fun during my cancer treatment and that was a relief too for my loved ones who gave me their undivided attention and care, when I needed them most in my life!
Many times I would despair. Luckily I was able to overcome that and most of the times the loss of hair on my head was the only giveaway that I was under cancer treatment.
I am sure that God must have thought that He better heal this lady fast or His mail box will get clogged with the fervent prayers my family and friends send Him! So here I am, fit as a fiddle, and plan to stay on this earth for few more decades, hopefully.
