Countdown to pain

“What is bothering you? I won’t know unless you tell me,” my friend probed, her face reflecting both anger and concern. “Nothing at all. Let’s hurry,” I said with an air of dismissal. We had a lot of things to get done as I had only one weekend to help her out in Singapore. She was getting set to begin a new chapter of her life there. “I know what it is,” she said, almost immediately realising I was battling severe stomach cramps. She gave me a painkiller and said, “I’m so sorry about the timing. I hate to see you in pain.” She paid through her nose to ensure we travelled by cab everywhere so I remain in comfort. 

I never had the faintest idea that I’d be on this side of the fence almost half a decade later, telling her, “I’m leaving immediately. I’ll be there. I can’t see you in pain.”

She was groaning in pain. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like severe spasms that come in intervals and last for at least 30 minutes,” she said, moaning again. Did you know that moaning, groaning and sighing in pain helps one psychologically in dealing with agony? You end up Googling everything when there are characters like Tilotama dominating the house. 

I suggested she use a heating pad. That has helped me with stomach cramps every month. The warmth can help ease the suffering temporarily. While I helped monitor the temperature, her parents were pressing her hands and legs. How do you divert her attention from the pain? I began by telling her stories. 

As her sister went back to the US, I shuttled between my home and hers, more hers than mine. I always hated saying bye to my friend. Her eyes would well up as I get into the cab. Every cab driver would drive me home frustrated by the fact that I’m letting my tears literally sink the backseat of the car. And when I leave my home the following week, my dad’s tearful bye would haunt me for the rest of the journey. I was always torn between emotions.

Now, focus: her stomach pain. The doctor suggested a blood test the very next day. Her count had dropped. Chemotherapy can lead to lowering of blood count. When the WBC count crashes, every infection in the body escalates. “It’s important to keep her infections in check, starting with her Fistula,” said the doctor.

She had a separate room, bathroom, cup, plate, water bottle, etc. We were paranoid. We said no to visitors even at the risk of letting well-wishers think that we were brushing aside their good wishes. We dunked ourselves in sanitizers every now and then. The stomach pain was managed with the tablet Buscogast, three times a day for three days.

Never underestimate the power of Tilotama!

The next chemo cycle went by with her stomach pain refusing to bow down to Buscogast. Just when I was back home getting ready to attend a small family function, I received that distress call. “Baby I called the doctor. This pain is excruciating. Ultracet and Buscogast are useless when it comes to these spasms. He has asked me to take an injection to bump up my blood count. It’s called Filgrastim - GCSF. Can you help arrange this?” she asked, whimpering in pain. Needless to say what my answer was.

I’m so glad I’m a journalist. Sourcing contacts - one of the main JDs of a journo - came in handy. I called the PR of a reputed hospital and asked her to arrange this injection. I also asked her to help me out with a nurse, who could come home to administer the injection. She put me on to a person, who runs a healthcare facility near my friend’s home. He was a man of few words. I requested him to send someone to the hospital, collect the GCSF and rush to my friend’s home. All this while I was getting into the car to head to the venue. When you love your family, you end up pleasing all the members, irrespective of your plight.

I was on repeat mode. Call the man from the healthcare facility - call the hospital - call my friend - repeat. One thing I was always good at was coordination… until that day.  The universe was conspiring against me. The man at the healthcare facility claimed the hospital wouldn’t provide the injection without a prescription. I had to request my friend, who was writhing in pain, to check with the doctor for a prescription. I sent it to the PR, and requested the man at the healthcare facility to send his representative again to the hospital. It took me six whole hours by the time the man at the healthcare facility called and said, “I can arrange the GCSF injection through a known source. I can procure it in 10 minutes. It will save you all this trouble with respect to procuring the prescription and coordinating.” I heaved a big sigh of relief. “Anything for that injection please,” I almost cried.

He is such a blessing. He arranged the injection, and sent a wonderful nurse home, who was gentle with my friend. I didn’t know whether to remain angry with God for giving my friend so much pain or thank him for helping me procure that injection despite all those Herculean challenges. I realised I was at the function. I got up and danced. Danced away my sorrow and secretly thanked God.