Hope Springs Eternal: The Story of a Cancer Survivor

Medha Irani is on a permanent high. The 60 year old cancer survivor was detected with breast cancer 12 years ago and has managed to live through it all. Now with a relapse early this year, she is no mood to do anything different. She has fought the crab with her positivity and will and continues to do so. Here’s her account on how she has survived these years with sheer will power and hope.

The day I felt a hard lump in my right breast, I knew instantly where I was headed. I was not shocked nor was I devastated when the tests confirmed I had stage 3 breast cancer. I just accepted it. I was told that it was curable, when detected early. I was 48 years old, had an 18 year old son at the time and my husband to stand by me.

Once the cancer was detected there was a sudden rush to want to get the lump removed. My husband was on a long flight out and I had no intentions of calling him back. I wanted to and I knew that I could handle this on my own. I managed the thousand and one pre surgery tests, the subsequent doctor visits, the booking of the operation theatre, appointments with the surgeon, the admission procedure, all on my own. My surgeon was anxious when he found out and took me aside one day and told me that he won’t operate on me till he meets my family. I assured him that my husband would be there to admit me, the evening before the surgery. I am not sure of his reaction. But he didn’t seem convinced till my husband finally did accompany me to help me complete all the formalities required before the surgery.

You would want to know what went on in my head. Yes I was a little nervous for a few minutes. Then I got hold of myself and told myself, since I am here I will eventually die some day. And that could be due to cancer or any other thing. And I don’t know when that will be. I kept telling myself that I had no control over my death. What I did have control of was my present life and how I chose to live it. I asked my son how he would cope without me, when I am gone. He said, “You are here now right? So I don’t know what it will be when you are not here!” Wasn’t that was profound coming from a teenager? So I reflected on it and decided that what I had with me was my life. I took a firm decision to live it the best way I knew how, by enjoying every moment of it. Death was a certainty. I accepted life. I embraced it as a beautiful journey until I reached my “destination” without worrying over how to go about it.

I got discharged from hospital two days after my lumpectomy was performed. I insisted on taking the lump home and keep it with me for a while. My surgeon agreed to my surprise. I was so happy. He said I could collect it after four days of my surgery. I went straight to the fish market from the hospital. I must have been a sight because there was a drain pipe jutting out of my upper part of my body for the serum to drip out into an attached container. I went home and cooked the fish and was back on my feet as if nothing had happened. I got up the next day and drove my son to college like always, cooked and followed my regular routine. I drove myself everywhere for follow ups, doctor visits, and even to collect the extracted lump! I remember when I went lab, the doctor on duty wanted to know who was the patient. When I said it was me, she asked, “Why do you want to take this home?” I said “because it is mine, it came out of my body didn’t it? “ She quietly handed it over to me cautioning me not to put it in the garbage bin. I promised to bring it back to her for a proper disposal of bio waste. And I kept my word.

The chemotherapy was started within ten days of the surgery. I was scheduled to have six cycles of chemo, with a gap of three weeks from each cycle. I had heard horrible stories from others who had gone through chemo. I kept pepping myself up but was very worried about throwing up. I was determined and told myself I would be ok. Which I was, and as a result, there were no puking episodes, not even once during or after my six cycles. There were no ulcers in the mouth, no constipation, no fever, no rushing to emergency due to sore complications, no depression, the only thing that happened is that I lost whatever hair I had. Also my taste buds were affected from all the medicines administered.

My son shaved off my head. There was nothing else we could do as my hair was falling off in clumps and patches. So it was quite ugly to see the scalp that way. But I loved being bald! I flaunted it totally. I refused to wear a wig as the purpose would be completely defeated. I did not want to wear a scarf either. I just believed that nobody has the time or the inclination to stop and watch. But I was wrong!

It turned out that I had a blast during my bald phase with all the attention I suddenly got! A “so called well wisher” called me and advised me to wear a scarf! “It doesn’t look good!” she said. But I was determined not to get one, I calmly said, “Look I can’t see myself so I don’t care how I look. If you find it difficult to look at me, then please don’t look at me!”

There was this person who kept staring at me and just wouldn’t stop. So I went up to him and said, “Ya, stare harder, maybe it’ll (my hair) will start growing!” Then again there were these two women, who kept whispering to each other, looking at my smooth, bald pate. I called out to them loudly for everybody to hear “I am going through chemotherapy hence the bald head! Want to know more? Ask me I am right here.” I am sure one of them nearly died of sheer embarrassment or shock! When people stared at me on the road, I would raise my eyebrow in question in the form of a silent ‘what’?

I actually felt like a celebrity. Or atleast felt like one with all the attention I got. I once told a lady, “I now know how Aishwarya Rai (the then reigning beauty queen) feels every time she steps out in public.” Even school kids did not spare me but I took it all in my stride. On the treatment front, radiation followed without too many events. I stayed happy, I remained my bubbly self, full of life, soaking in every minute, living every second I could, with great enthusiasm. I would even pull up my top or t-shirt and show my wound to whoever wanted to see it.

All this was so long ago, almost 12 years and I am still here. In January 2015, I found two lesions in my left breast, this time it was one stage lower than the earlier one. As a result I am now on a tablet, for the rest of my life just to keep that in check. You all must have already guessed how I am coping with all this. I am still on top of the world and I have no intentions of being any place else. I love it here. And it suits me just fine to be who I am.

This time around too my husband was out of the country, he was visiting with my son who is now pursuing his PhD in Australia. I insisted that he not come and let me do this on my own.

The difference this time round is that I am now working at a marvellous library called Mcubed in Bandra, here in Mumbai, and so am surrounded with people I have known since I started working here four years ago. Here I have the support of so many people who are more than willing to help me with anything I need. I am completely moved by this sudden generosity of people who have been mere acquaintances in my life. I used to think I do not need help. Then seeing all this love I decided to let people help me. Not because I needed it, but because I wanted them to experience the feeling of caring for someone who needs it.

I know CANCER will not consume my body – I do not care it does, for what use is my body if my spirit leaves it! What I will take along with me is my spirit. The love I get from everyone is what really counts. It is the positive energy that I get from everyone around me that will merge with all the thoughts that float around us as cosmic energy. Cancer or no Cancer, I am here to stay.

— Medha Irani spoke to Sangeeta John