Inspiring Space

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You are not the healer

A telephone call woke me up at around 4 o'clock in the morning.

“Doctor, come fast Christina is losing her breath,” my therapist said.

I rushed to the inpatient department which is just across the road from my practice. Everyone there was looking at me anxiously.

Inside her room, Christina was lying down in her bed and the therapists were trying to wake her up by calling out, “Christy. Christy. Wake up.”

I checked her pulse and it was low and feeble. Her blood pressure was low: 60/40

I tried to open her eyes to check her pupils for any dilation. Thank God they responded to light. I made her comfortable and started mouth to mouth respiration and CPR  simultaneously. There was no response initially. Then, she coughed and I could feel the breath slowly improving. Her pulse started stabilising and her blood pressure improved.

I looked around and could see that everyone else was relieved. They were kissing her forehead, hugging her closely and murmuring in her ears, "Do not worry. You are fine."

I saw tears rolling down her cheeks  and silent glow in her eyes.  

One year ago, this 50-something-year-old came to our centre. She looked frail wore a simple light brown dress. She was hunched and there was no light in her eyes. It was difficult for her to breathe, even.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

"No. Maybe," I replied.

"I am Christina. I called you six months before and told you about my health and you refused to treat me and advised me to go for chemo and radiation."

"Yes, yes. Now I remember. How are you? You look very tired. Are you taking any medication?"

"I am good. Just little tired."

"And now what I can do for you?" I started taking her pulse and it was very weak. I also asked her the normal questions about sleep, appetite, bowel movements, etc.

Then I asked, "How is your tumor in the breast? Can I see that?"

She unbuttoned her dress and  I could see cotton and gauze bandages  stuffed in the chest which was already soaked in blood and pus. When I gently removed the bandage  I was shocked to see her chest. There were cauliflower-like tumors on both sides with water, blood and thick foul-smelling liquids flowing out of them.

"Christina, this is quite bad. What did you do until it became this bad?"

She put her dress back on then said, "I tried many types of therapies," and listed all sorts of treatments including  spiritual healings.

"Nothing helped me much, but sometimes, some helped for a short while."

"How many kilos have you lost?" I asked.

"Hmmm  may be 15 kilos in one year."

"That's quite a lot. Why can't you go and do the surgery or chemo a try?"

"Six months back they told  me that am so weak to try anything. They told me I may live  only for three months the maximum because it has already spread to my bone lungs and liver and other parts."

I kept quite for a while. Then, I asked, "So, Christina, now what can I do? You know it is quite late and I do not think I can do much. You better go to a hospital or hospice and take some treatment and help from them."

"I know what you mean, but you know I just want you to admit me  in your centre and help me what ever the way you can."

"But Christina it is too late and I do not think I can do much."

When she spoke, her voice was a little higher. "Doctor, you just admit me. You are not the healer. You do not heal. He is the healer." She raised her hand above her head and said, "He will heal me. My Lord Jesus will heal me."

I was stuck for words. I was amazed by her faith in God. Still, I asked, "Who came with you? I may have to explain in detail to your family members."

Her reply was simple: "Oh, I am left alone. I do not have any body alive as my parents are dead and no relatives known to me is alive. I do not have any one."

"Maybe your friends came with you?" I ventured.

"Yes, one of my friend took me here but she already left after leaving me here."

I kept quiet for I didn't know what to say. All I could think of was her words: I am not the healer. It is her god. So, I have nothing to worry.

Then, I asked and I asked her to fill up the forms and informed the staff to prepare the room for her admission and prescribed the medications.

As time went, there were many changes in her health - some times good, some times bad. Some time she improved and we also had emergencies. We laughed and celebrated all festivals with her including Deepavali, Christmas and the birthdays of all our staff and patients. We did have arguments as well as she hated the  vegetarian diet with limited salt and others spices…

She was not in a position to pay the bills and luckily the management also helped in giving good amount of support. She promised to pay us all back after she received the money from her office which she was working before.

Those who visited her either came from her office or her church. Problems began when her visitors started bringing unhealthy food. As she ate them, her condition would deteriorate and we were unaware until she confessed to me that she'd been eating what they brought.

Chritina lived for another 18 months.

The day she died, I was summoned to her bedside again. When I rushed to her, she was looking at me and though no words were spoken I understood her message: she was leaving us. Quickly, I asked my staff to call for an ambulance. This was despite the fact that she had always insisted that she never wanted to go to hospital  and  she used to say, "Doctor, don't take me to a hospital. Even in an emergency."

As she wished, before the ambulance arrived, she drew her last breath, holding my hands with her fragile cold hands, open eyes and a peaceful smile.

To this day, it surprises me that no one from her family came to ask after her health, life or even death. Christina was cremated. It gives me great comfort to know that whatever the circumstances of her life, her death was peaceful. I was moved by her faith in God and I still remember her in my prayers. I will always love her and may her soul rest in peace.

11 January 2012