Sleepless in Delhi

I have been having sleepless nights after sleepless nights for the last fortnight or so. Come to think of it all seems on course and choices made willing or unwillingly. The second opinion was a watershed in our chemo journey. On the face of it, it did not yield any reassuring counsel. It simply reinforced the fact that no matter what, 12 was the chosen number. I simply took it as a message from the empyrean an decided to just get on with it. Yet I found myself sleepless and somewhat disturbed till it  occurred to me that this was the time exactly 21 years ago when Papa was battling cancer. November has never been a happy month since that fateful November of 2002.

It was on November 5th that Papa was subjected to a brutal seven hours surgery that robbed him of his dignity in the name of probable cure. He would come home a few days and leave me on the 29th of this month. November is a month I now dread. But at the same time it is a month when I cannot but remember Papa and his struggle and ask myself the question: where did I go wrong. To mama's absolute and very vocal refusal of any kind of treatment, Papa's quiet and tame acceptance came as a relief, or so I thought at that time. Conventional medicine was the only option available. My knowledge of Cancer was close to nil and Internet did not exist, so all existing alternative options remained undisclosed. One simply had to trust the men in white. When Papa walked into the nursing home he was a healthy 81 year old when he came out 10 days later he was a mutilated man. For the surgeon the operation had been successful. But Papa never recovered. Seeing him lying helpless led me to pray for his deliverance and the Gods were merciful enough to hear my plea. I was left to live on with the guilt of having suggested the conventional approach. Mercifully he was spared the radio and chemotherapy. In my defence: I did not know better.

I wonder why God has put me in the same place 21 years later. I hope it is too somewhat rid me of the guilt I carry and redeem myself. As I lie awake in the dead of night waiting for the clock to show a reasonable time for getting out of bed, I find myself wondering whether I have done all that is in my power to ensure Ranjan's recovery. I ask myself is there is something more I could do to make it easier on him. I can imagine how frustrating it is for him to be housebound and unable to lead the active and fun loving life he so enjoys. My heart goes out to him as he meekly drinks his soursop tea in lieu of his 12 year old large malt whisky or eats his organic vegetables whilst dreaming snails and foie gras! I just dream of the table laden with all his favourite dishes that I will conjure for him once he is well again. I wonder how many sleepless night will reach me to that coveted morning.