FAQs

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS (FAQs)

Q1. How are you? How are you feeling?

A-   Good.

Q2. So are you cured? 

A- err..no..not really..well yes..for the time being..not in treatment.

Q3. So are you feeling good?

A- well - good within the framework of cancer.

Q4. How's the food?

A-   Great!

Q5. So why are you not eating this? Or that?

A - actually am following a diet.

Q6. Which diet are you following?

A- my own diet plan - after trial and error.

Q7. Really? And your doctor allows?

A- err..never ask him.

Q8. Can you drink?

A- YES!

Q9. Doesn't alcohol cause cancer?

A- yeah. But I already got it. A beer or an occasional martini won't kill me-;)

Q.10. Do you go to work?

A- yes. I do. Every day. For a few hours - as many as I can manage.

Q11. Do you go out?

A. Yes I do. Choose the occasions and the timing. 

Q12. Are you on chemotherapy?

A. No I am on Stand By.

Q13. How do you pass time?

A- I don't. Time is passing me by.

Q14. ( some times) and Sunita- you have been dying to say something?

A- err. I am dying. I mean we all are..I mean yes.. I wanted to say...

Q15. What is your prognosis?

A- Don't know. Don't want to know. ( go google on OVC stage IIIC!!!!)

I UNDERSTAND

I UNDERSTAND.

This statement and its presence in my life is almost hysterical. In the last two years, the amount of things I have 'understood' as well as the amount of times I have been 'understood' would easily be beatific if not saintly. Since I have 'nun' such ambitions, have found the most peaceful way to move forward in life is with a gentle nodding of the head and a quiet, " I understand".  So if its an uncalled for situation - I understand ( my heart battles on the inside with the right kind of words) ; if some one is insensitive, "I understand".  If there is a pitiable excuse for a last minute cancellation," I understand". If there are no-shows/ slip-of-mind/non-acknowledgement,"I understand". "I understand" the neuropathy, the pain, the silent symptoms that you cannot even voice. "I understand" that some of the people around me have chosen silence whereas others have chosen inane conversation and yet others are giving a whole new meaning to existence. "I understand". As do others. I hear these words said to me as often as I say them. I could be breaking into a helpless tantrum; being late for an appointment or even be in a plain bad mood.."I understand" is the magic password.

So what do I understand?

That in all likelihood I will die of a toxic overdose of understanding - after all there is a limit to how much of one thing one person can digest-;))

The 5 year conviction

FIVE YEAR survival rate is the benchmark of a cancer prognosis. You are considered a survivor if  you stay cancer-free for five years. Or your prognosis is based on the "five year" statistics of  the kind of cancer you have been diagnosed with along with the stage it has been discovered at.  Any time that you are able to stretch over and above the five years is a bonus. So five years as a term and as a time period become your  mental goal posts. There are no hard and fast rules. As I said, these standards are based on statistics and statistics too keep evolving. But five years is the long and short of it.

So what's this about Salman Khan conviction? Five years? Too long or too short? Or not at all - as we witnessed the quick facility of bail accorded amidst the eieieio of FIVE YEARS.  

Spirituality Ahoy!!

Spiritual / Spirituality - these words connoted a personal space, whatever it meant and however you practiced it -  in my growing up years. When and how they became the "business" of every one around must have happened in the intervening years. I seemed to have missed the hype or perhaps unconsciously kept it out of my radar. But whoosh!!! How these words keep getting swept under my nose now that I seem to be in a tight corner, errr..spiritually. 

Born in a liberal Sikh home, schooled in a Convent School and read the underlined and foot-noted English version of the Quraan ( as guided by Papa to 'know' before speaking) , studied almost every metaphysical school of thought as part of the Philosophy degree, survived the very very turbulent time in Punjab, the base of which was religion and survived with all bonds intact, married into a Hindu family, raised a child to think for himself -  thinking and believing that my theory of  honesty of intention, kindness & compassion in words and action & along with a listening ear is a  good spiritual companion.

But then cancer happened. And no one wastes a second in demolishing a lifetime of belief  and throwing a new theory to PRACTICE  straight onto your face. This leaves me gaping usually, some times in amusement and others in irritation. I respect that my loved ones pray for me - please do, you are supposed to -;)) - but to expect me to suddenly take on Godly matters into public space and to start doing rituals just because I seem to be in need. Sorry folks! I still abide by my theory of  life and if you abide by yours - factor me in your prayers- but don't pressurize me to do what you do. Respect. Thank you. Happily equipped forever.

Earthquakes, tremors,after-shocks

One of my all-time favorite mother-son anecdotes ( from much before cancer became part of our vocabulary) is watching the movie Dil Se on the tv in Ludhiana - with everyone sprawled all over the living area. Me on my designated armchair with U ,who would be 3-4 years old, and suddenly the earth shook. For a flash of a second there was day-like light and birds came flying out of their nightly resting places. As soon as we realized the magnitude of what had happened ( am not going to refer to google for the correct citation but think it was Uttarakhand) the usual conversation went to the fragility of life. U asked if that meant we could have all died? Remember telling him it would have been the safest and blessed way to go if we were meant to go.

Reading various posts in the aftermath of the Nepal quake, and yet again wondering about the fine lines between being and nothingness -  about the daily tremors in our lives and the instinct to sustain life and yet being aware of the finality of all existence. Can't help ( sincerely don't mean to downplay any fears - to fear death is NORMAL) but treat the running down floors/ evacuating buildings as a metaphor for surviving the cancered life. Every minute of it. Is a run to survive. To sustain. To just be.

P.S.  sorry about the missing laughs but perhaps this post can be taken only with an extra pinch of salt?

Cancer & Serendipity - in search of medicine man of Shimoga

How many promises of cure ? How many different ways to kill the cancer? How much economy and parallel economy running on the premise that there is relief somewhere?

As soon as I had a fair understanding of the nature of the cancer my body had chosen to carry - I have known that life will be about managing to keep above the disease - day to day - for as long as I live. That makes me open to all kinds of suggestions. The mainline options are clear cut. It is the alternate ones that range from unbelievable to doable to digestible to plain no-no.

I am usually suspect of any potion or powder to eat.  Fresh foods rich in anti oxidants are a big yes. But most of the time I can't digest them. So when the cancer is beginning to shine for the third time in two years of surfacing, and you have been studying the grim and grimmer options of treatment ahead - a video clip received via whatsapp talking about the medicine man of shimoga suddenly seems a very viable action to take.

So begins an intensive effort to search for the man. Three people contacted in Shimoga region come back varying information on his availability. Seemed like a no-go. Meanwhile, a plan comes together of a trip to Goa with two friends who have hand-held me through this journey of last few years. So off we go to Goa. Medicine, medicine-man, surgery all put to the side for three days.

Now comes the serendipity part. At the end of our trip, I decide to get a foot massage. The guy starts off by telling me I have something going on in my stomach. As soon as I confirm to him he starts off with details about the MEDICINE MAN OF SHIMOGA - he came from the neighboring village.

Much excitement and logistical detailing later, A, U ( who decided to look into this adventure) and I undertook a leap of faith and converged in Goa , early last Saturday morning. By this time fragmented reports of the man not being there were in but since we had the details worked out, decided to go ahead anyways.

So we land in the sleepy but apparently rich village of Narsipur in Sagara taluka, dist. Shimoga early on Sunday morning. People were hanging around the house. Cars ranging from Wagon R, to Innova to BMW were beginning to drive up. Chennai,Bangalore, Mangalore - people had driven all night. Most of them the second time because they had felt a relief. But the man was not there. Only large notices that due to many other people starting to dole out the medicine in the area, the forest department had put a pause to this guys disbursal as well. We were given the privilege of going into the house on telling our story but were told to that he doesn't have anything to give. We should try again after the 10th of May. meanwhile U had been looking around and was asking me what was the stuff lying around? I said the guy has supari plantations - this is the supari fruit. Betel nut ? Asked U. So you mean this guy is responsible for causing cancer and then cures it?

Oh well - we had a great holiday in an area I had long coveted to visit. The Western Ghats are a beautiful part of  India.

Will I go back for the medicine? Time will tell or if I could find another route to be discovered from another city-:))

You look good!!

Aahaa !! Sure I do. But do I look like myself?  Honestly, every time I catch my self in the mirror ( since the diagnosis) , its hard to recognize myself. It's a surprise each and every time because in my brain, I am expecting another me. Yet when I see pictures from pre-diagnosis days- cant recognize that person as well.

A few weeks before the diagnosis, a conversation about the "fair & lovely" biases of people with a friend had run aground to me being accused of not taking looks,colour and other such outer matters of life so seriously because I was naturally endowed and took beauty for granted. That conversation had to end there and then but I often revisit it to understand myself and my silence when any one compliments me!!

Do feel less angst than most women - most times it is hard to stay serious in bad-hair-day conversations of girlfriends. And feel light-headed at the hairdressers - sitting amidst young and old ,stressing over their hair , spending long hours and expensive treatments to keep it all together. Almost see a halo around myself ( a little narcissism is allowed no?) - floating above the skin and hair condition of humanity-;)