The new C is in the spotlight. The old C remains. There is no masking the fears about cancer. And there is no distancing the misconceptions.
Chanda. The name of the girl is not. But the snatches of conversation, more about her cancer than her, are all real.
Father to doctor: “She keeps getting fever and is so weak.”
Doctor to father: “Your child has blood cancer. We will have to start chemotherapy.”
Mother to father: “But she is only five. How can she have cancer?”
Chanda to mother: “Did you fight with Papa again? Don’t cry, I am there for you.”
Father to mother: “Never again will we cry in front of her.”
Father to mother: “I have no money left. Don’t know whom to ask. Let’s release an appeal.”
Stranger to parents: “Saw your appeal. Oh, she likes cars! Come, bring her, let us go for a ride. Keep this money. Why does it matter who I am?”
Mother to school principal: “Doctor said she is recovering and can start school. Please admit her.”
Principal of school 1: “If other parents come to know, they will withdraw their children. As it is, we are constantly fighting with parents.”
School 2: “What if her cancer spreads? Other children will also get it.”
School 3: “We can’t let her skip class every time she has to go for treatment. What is the guarantee she won’t get it again?”
School 4: “She must always wear a mask, sit separately and not mingle with other children.”
Mother’s letter to father: “I am going. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking after a cancer patient.”
Chanda to father: “Why are you crying? I am there for you.”