It was 15 August 2002 - not sharing that year’s Independence Day celebrations. That was the day I was on the operation table for 5-1/2 hours in Geneva, Switzerland, undergoing prostate cancer operation. Luckily, I have had no significant problem all these 23 years.
Slowly but surely a cell or two does manage to stay dormant to multiply and resurface, as a recent scan revealed. “Kill them, Sundaram,” ordered my Urologist/Oncologist. He didn’t mean to hand me sword to deal with it a la Rajanikant, in movies. He referred me to a radiologist-oncologist for that at HCG hospital.
Radiotherapy has its attendant side effects. While attacking the problem-area, it has a knack of burning the adjacent organs and veins as well. Sometimes remedy could be worse than the disease, I feared.
“No, not any longer, Mr Sundaram,” Dr Lohith, the radiologist-oncologist reassured on reviewing my recent scan- and earlier reports. “We will wage, not a war, but a battle for five days with our latest Cyberknife radiosurgery, engaging just a handful of soldiers (read: low dosage). Non-invasive, no blood, no this, no that…
“No result as well?” I quipped. “No way sir - 98% success-rate. After this, you don’t have to worry for some years,” he emphasized. “I will get back to you soon doctor,” I said as I made way for the next patient.
Back home I began to draft a letter to my relative, a leading Urologist-Oncologist in Delhi for his opinion. Came a voice, as usual, from the kitchen: “Don’t you think he is just another Urologist-Oncologist like the one we are consulting in Bangalore? Doesn’t our present concern lie primarily in the domain of a radiologist-oncologist? To me Dr Lohith appeared competent in his profession the way he fielded your volley of questions. I think we should go ahead with treatment straightaway,” the lady of the house prevailed. I promptly deleted the draft, rang up Dr Lohith to draw the treatment plan. “Sure, I will ask Hindumathi, my Admin In-Charge to handle that.” (It is another story how Indumathi, fondly christened so by her parents, became Hindumathi).
Hindumathi re-arranged the schedule to start the treatment date we suggested (after eliminating Nakshatram day, Ashtami, Tuesday, etc.).
Earlier, when I was in discussion with the doctor, my elder son had rung me up to enquire. Doctor reassured him over the phone that the treatment was simple and did not warrant his flying all the way from US. He said yes to him, but landed in Bangalore in time for the treatment, missing only the previous day’s pre-treatment investigation tests. My brother in law, Kannan, cancelled his duty travel to be with us for that. Shanthy, my sister in law, whose hands are full having to attend to the newborn grandson, prepared lunch on all treatment days – really delicious.
In the five-day continuous treatment thankfully Saturday, Sunday and Monday (Ramzan) intervened. Thus I had to cope with the hospital’s everyday Kumbh Mela rush only for two days.
Starting from the attendant to the nursing staff, to the radiographic technicians to the staff at reception, Hindumathi, Dr Lohith and his fellow doctor Krithika, everyone was uniformly dedicated and polite. Three cheers.
Each session was in two parts lasting 30 minutes each. Lie still, don’t move, is the only request. The effect of air-conditioning, the cosy blanket they covered me with, and the silent ambience provided the right setting for a nap – however best I tried to stay awake to watch the proceedings. In fact, there was nothing to watch. The machine would just hover around me stopping at places to send beams to the designated area.
A dreaded prospect that I feared was reduced to what I would compare with Julius Caesar’s “I came, I saw, I conquered” feat. Completed the course yesterday, discussed discharge-summary contents today, and Empuran movie at Forum mall tomorrow.
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