More than once I have tried to
write another entry about my Leukemia in past few months but haven’t been
successful. I found a couple of excuses for my failure- no regular access to
laptop/PC at nights during my semester and a pretty bad writing speed with
paper-pen. In the end I come to the conclusion that I hate – my memories have
started to fade and I’m just not ready to let it all go. So I try and I fail.
“It’s like anything bad or scary happens, when you finish it or get
through it you’re so relieved you forgot how terrifying it was or how miserable
you were and you want to do it again, or you just remember the good parts, or
you tell yourself it’s helped you get to the new part of yourself.”
-Cecelia
Ahern, The Book of Tomorrow
The same is the case when it
comes to me. I do not remember myself regretting to have cancer. It wasn't something I chose, it was something I wished for and I had no reasons to cry
for my wish was granted. People said that I was brave and strong, they may have
been right but as for me, I was simply happy. The first two months in the
hospital showed me what could be “The WORST” in life and it made me stop cribbing
for this and that. I do not remember myself thinking, ‘Life sucks’ or ‘Life isn't fair’ and I hate it when others say so.
In the past few months I have
tried day and night to remember how it felt when each part of my body ached,
when I vomited everything I ate, when needles did their small dance sequences
beneath my skin in search of a vein, when I was poked in every six hours, when
I screamed with pain, when I was told I can’t go back home, when I was
continuously taken to the treatment room, when a thin pipe was led down to my
intestine through my nose, when I couldn't speak because of mucocitis, when I couldn't sleep because of pancreatitis. I remember that I screamed during each
and every needle prick, skin biopsy, bone marrow test but I do not remember
with what intensity. I wouldn't include my days spent in ICU here because I
guess I had no feelings then, I was numb. It’s all a blur now and nothing else.
On the contrary I clearly remember
how I used to irritate all the doctors, nurses and ward boys, I remember my
mid-night strolls in the ward with the infusion stand in my hand, I remember
how even the doctors and nurses used to tease me, I remember going for my first
operation and I remember reading all the available comics and playing cards
with my grandparents after the visiting hours, I remember the tasty dishes that
my Aunt used to send,I remember ordering the hot and sour soup that I wasn't allowed to drink, I remember flying paper rockets with other younger patients in the ward, I remember watching TV with mom in my cabin, I remember
waiting for papa every morning and I remember all the joyous moments but fail
to visualize the hard times. Painful memories are equally important to me as
the happy ones. If you think I am an idiot, I can't help you. ;-)
My parents, family and acquaintances
say that it’s good if I fail to remember all of it but I can’t help myself. I
am damn slow at moving on, no matter friends or Leukemia. To be honest, I just don't want to move on. I am just not quite
ready to let it all go and the blurred picture in my mind blurs my vision.
People say my recovery was a
miracle but I believe Leukemia was the miracle. The year that followed knew a
new part of me, a part which wasn’t ever sad, a part who smiled no matter what,
a part who could confront anything and everything, a part who wasn’t afraid of
anything, a part who could be nothing but happy, a part that formed whole of me.
Sometimes I even think of reliving the past. Whenever I just start to have the
thought of having cancer again, a voice within me whispers “Don’t. You know you
won’t last this time.” And I stop thinking and again try to uproot the past.
I just wish I could have stored
all those days somewhere with me, may be in writings before it had started to
fade. No matter what others say, but to let go of it is harder than to let go
of any relationships. People around me have no idea how much the thought of not
remembering it kills me, they would never know because they think I’m weird in
such matters. I love being this way.
If only the
past could last, somewhere somehow…
 |
| The candle lighting area at CMC, Vellore. |
PS- I am not wrong about late nights and my writings. :P
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