What's her mistake ? - 6

The Oncological Institute was a huge complex. I entered with Nammu Aunty after two days. I did not tell  her. But I applied leave and took her.

On the way to the hospital she did not speak. Her face was as if it was made of stone. I could not understand what were her thoughts.

Is she feeling bad? Is she feeling sad? Is she regretting that she is not with at least one of her children? Or is she relieved that she is alone and she is not giving any trouble to any of her children?

Somehow I did not dare to ask. There is not much to ask as well.

I think I know Nammu Aunty. When uncle and herself were well enough they did not go to any of the children (or is it because they did not get invitation from any of the children?), I could not imagine that she would try to call one of her sons (daughter is too far, so at least  presently it is ruled out) and go to stay with them?

She has too much self-esteem to reach for her children herself. On the other hand, I never feel that her sons are so ‘bold’ and invite their mother against the wishes of their wives.

We walked along the corridors to reach the consultation room of the Oncologist suggested by the general physician.

I could see many people on the way. Some of them sad, some of them melancholic, some of them very despondent. Oh God! Is this the place where the human beings lose their hopes about life? Is it that cruel, this cancer?

Breast cancer, blood cancer, pancreas cancer, tongue cancer, lung cancer, intestinal cancer.. I do know what other cancers are lurking somewhere to jump on someone and make them lose hope, life in that order?

I stole a glace towards Nammu Aunty. Still there was no expression on her face, even after seeing so many patients, patiently waiting for the doctors (or are they awaiting the ultimate death?).

I tried to touch her right hand which was on the arm rest of the chair next to me. She smiled her the usual affectionate smile and slowly pushed my hand away.

‘Please let me battle with my cancer myself. I don’t need anyone’s compassion’ – is she saying that? I could not help wondering.

Finally our turn came. The oncologist was about 50 years and self-confidence was oozing out of his face. In fact, I somehow started feeling that he is going to cure Nammu Aunty’s cancer and she should be fine very shortly.

When we went inside and sat in front of him, I handed over the reports and the letter from the general physician.

I started building hopes that Nammu Aunty’s case need not be as worse as the general physician made out. After all he is not the authority (with due respects to his education and experience) as far as the cancer severity in Nammu Aunty and the curing process is concerned. After all, here we are, sitting in front of one of the best oncologists of India (this was also told by the general physician), awaiting his opinion about the reports.

In fact, my hopes of Nammu Aunty’s betterment started growing moment by moment. But the ears were all attention to listen to what he was about to say.

After what seemed an eternity, he looked at me and Nammu Aunty.

“Amma, who are all at your home?” was the first question he uttered.

It was a very pleasant voice. I could see Nammu Aunty suddenly being very attentive. It was a hypnotic voice which could make you forget the whole world.  He was even looking very good for his 50 years. Trim body, a frame which was not lean, but not thick too. Kind eyes, long nose, salt and pepper hair... he was a good looking doctor who could make the patient forget about his/her problems.

A very good attribute a doctor should have. Especially when dealing with a fatal disease like cancer.

“I have a big family doctor. I am doing fine” was Nammu Aunty’s reply.

I was stunned.

Why is she saying like that?