So, lately it has been quite emotionally obliterating at the
work front. One of my staff has his daughter admitted in a tertiary hospital in
Delhi and she is in a terminal stage. She has been diagnosed with
SLE with
severe complications in the heart, brain and kidney. She was being treated for
the above conditions in Nepal, near the place where they belong, and now they
are here. Under our care. Its been 9 days now since she has been put on
ventilator after she suffered two major seizures. And there has been no signs
of improvement, yet. Infact, the blood work-up says that she is drowning with
almost 99% chance of fatality. But besides her sits her father and mother who’s
been with her for the 18 yrs of her life. All 18yrs when Neetu had been every
parents envy.
Neetu had been an achiever ever since kindergarten. She has
never stood second. Be it studies, co-curricular activities or sports. She used
to excel in this all. But what made her the blue-eyed of everyone was the
modesty she possessed in limitless amount. And that wouldn’t be too surprising
for anyone who knew her father personally because he was an epitome of
dedication, honesty and modesty himself. Neetu could sing, speak many
languages, used to teach many children in the neighbourhood, knit clothes for
winter..she would do it all. All this till the beginning of this year when one
after life unleashed misery on this dream-like family. Neetu started falling
ill and she never really recovered inspite of the medications she took and
despite the numerous doctors she visited. And how would she, she wasn’t
correctly diagnosed till very recently. And in all this time when she was being
treated for the conditions she never really had, she was there getting worse.
Nearing the stage she is in now.
Today, she is here. Living, yet life-less. Just a few minutes before she got that
massive seizures she told her mom not to worry and that she needs to return
back to their home in Nepal because her younger sister was there all by herself
and her exams were near. How she would assure her mom that things would be
alright soon and that she was feeling a lot better than what she was already.
When I think about Neetu, I am overwhelmed at the unwavering
courage she possesses. I am also convinced beyond doubt that all the stories her dad would tell me on
the phone, whenever I call him to find out how Neetu was, is so true. How the
old man would try and get some strength while proudly speaking about his elder
daughter. He would ask me, “Sahab, when will she be ok? She will be ok na?”. And
my silence or my desperate attempt to give him an answer that wouldn’t be too
harsh to hear, would answer all his questions. Yet he says, he is hopeful that
Neetu will bounce back to life. I know exactly what that feels like, because I
was there too nearly a month back, while taking care of my father-in-law. And
for the same reason, I told him to hang on inspite of knowing the bleak
prognosis because I saw a miracle in my life with Babi’s dad.
All I want right now is her to be better. A lot better. I
want her mom to finally wipe her tears and smile. I want her father to know
that hope is a good thing. Beyond anything else, I want Neetu to live the life
she deserves to live.
I just wish that when I call her dad tomorrow, he has
something better to share. The silence and the pain in his words are killing
me. Its bringing me to my knees. Please pray for her all of you. Pray for the
miracle she so much needs.
Amen.
