Entering the onco world

"You’ll never know my value even if I develop a tumour that leads me to death,” my friend would say in exasperation during our regular fights. And I was always quick to respond, “Promise me you’ll do that soon.” Our fight immediately faded with an outburst of laughter.

Least did I realise that the tumour would manifest itself as cancer very soon.

She has been the anchor in my life, a sounding board when I needed a vent, a devil’s advocate when I needed perspective, and an irritant when I needed distraction. 

It was in March, 2021, when she first complained of severe back pain. 

“You are gymming too much!” 

“Stop playing tennis!”

“Don’t sit on the computer!”

Blame game overpowered concrete solution. And she lost 3 months over physiotherapy and chiro, before she went to a spine surgeon. An MRI of the lumbar spine suggested nothing, with the needle of suspicion pointing to a problem with her sacroiliac (SI) joint. Her pain at the right SI joint gradually worsened, her walking speed drastically reduced, and her dependency on pain killers instantly increased. 

A sudden turn of events changed life upside down when a consultation with an orthopaedic, who suggested an MRI of the pelvis, introduced her and us to the world of oncology. Just as she was setting foot into her dream job at Google after months of struggle in Singapore while working for Apple. Least did this Googler expect a Googly of this sort. 

It was in August when she said, “The oncologist has asked me to do a PET Scan to see what’s wrong with me. The orthopaedic was suspicious of my bone marrow edema. I am scared baby.” My world shattered to smithereens. I was scared too. “This just can’t be true,” I kept telling myself. She’d call me at night and scream in pain, sometimes cry, and at other times wail in exertion. I patiently listened through it all, silently crying into my pillow, helpless. 

It was harrowing and this was just the beginning of it all.

“The PET scan report is out. I seemed to light up like a jellyfish. The doc wants me to do a biopsy of the left axilla. He says it could be lymphoma,” she said, adding that she has decided to do the biopsy the same afternoon. 

She takes time to get close and comfortable with people. I termed her anti-social when I first met her. She has changed since. I was pleasantly surprised when she said, “My friend Bernard was with me at the hospital this morning. He dropped me home.” However, she asked him not to accompany her for the biopsy. I told you she is anti-social!

Sometimes, the strongest and most daring of them all are the ones with unexpected fears. She suffers from trypanophobia. I wonder how she braved it all alone. We were never lucky in our lives. Nothing comes easy. Every milestone in our lives came after million struggles. This biopsy turned inconclusive. Her family wanted her back in India. She wanted to dive deep in her new job and role. And life wanted to make things more difficult for her.

She took the flight to India on August 29, resigned to fate… she needed help, she needed us… she was weak and feeble. I knew she didn’t want to leave Singapore. Luckily, her new team and boss at Google were supportive and decided to send her on a long medical leave. I was at the airport, bag and baggage, ready to stay with her and her family, until we, together, fix her.

She arrived on a wheelchair, unable to stand, walk or sit. To see her suffer on screen is so different from seeing her almost crippled in person. I felt every nerve in my body twitching as her joint throbbed with pain. 

Thus, started her journey in India with Tilotama, the name we gave to this disease, tentatively then assumed to be lymphoma.