The Hindu Business Line : The `chemo angels'

Their energy can make even a bunch of cheerleaders look ordinary. Meet Neerja Malik (left) and Nita D' Cruz, survivors of cancer, who spearhead the Apollo Cancer Support Group in Chennai.

For Neerja Malik, who shuttles between volunteer work and family business, it all started with a setback she suffered in 1998 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was 44 years old with seven-year-old twins.

While undergoing treatment at Mumbai, she came across a support group for cancer patients. Her spirits soared and she realised she could focus on helping others rather than her own condition. But to Neerja's dismay, a member of that group said, "You have just been diagnosed with cancer. Supposing you start counselling and then something happens to you, it will be bad for the patients' morale."

Although this depressed her, she told herself: "Even if something does happen, at least the ones I have helped would have got something out of it." She returned to Chennai and began helping friends suffering from cancer at the Apollo Speciality Hospital. This was a small beginning, which later took roots when she met Nita D'Cruz and a few other women.

Nita, who has taught at several schools and colleges, came to Chennai in 1992 from Bangalore after losing her parents to cancer within 12 days of each other. "We received so much support when my parents were dying that I just couldn't sit back and not do anything. So I began helping out at the Adyar Cancer Hospital. I was then a person from the other side — one who had not had cancer."

In 1999, when Nita felt a lump (she was 50 then), she knew something was amiss. But she went about her tests with clinical precision. When she told her family about this, Nita's sons were practical. "Especially the elder one who told me: `You have the best doctors. Let them do their duty, you do yours'."

What follows is a positive story of how two women combated the disease through rigorous cycles of chemotherapy and radiation — never letting the disease get the better of them.

"My condition was handled so well by the doctors that I thought `what is all the noise about.' I even went on a holiday to Sri Lanka. The humour and friendship around me was terrific. People I never thought existed were there for me," says Nita.

"We soon realise that this is a temporary detour and not the be-all-end-all of your existence," adds Neerja.

Soon their paths crossed through a common friend, Champa. Both Neerja and Nita were there right through Champa's treatment; Champa fondly calls them her `chemo angels'. Although both women were informally helping patients at the Apollo Speciality Hospital, the trigger point for the support group was a casual lunch hosted by Champa in 2002.

"We were a group of six women who liked getting together over lunch, and we decided to direct our energies into a proper channel," says Nita. This sowed the seeds for the birth of the support group in 2004.

The members of the group are a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold onto, and a face to draw comfort from. They are patient listeners offering positive suggestions drawn from their own experiences. They begin where the doctors leave off.

"Often patients have their family with them but, unfortunately, everyone tries to keep a façade and there is no one to verbalise or ventilate with. So, by the entry of a person who has been through the same thing, there is a shift in consciousness and perception.

"We tell patients we've done it and so can you," says Neerja, adding that this also gives hope to the families of patients.

But how hard is it to motivate patients to fight the disease and not let it overwhelm them? Nita says, "I tell people to give themselves time... Go with the flow, do what the doctors say. Nothing is going to happen that you cannot handle. Your mind is definitely stronger than your body'."

The support group forms a vital link between the patients and their families, who also need to be given the strength to deal with the pain of their loved ones. A lot of family support is required to pull through the disease. "My sons kept me laughing, although my husband was extremely anxious," says Nita.

Parents, they say, often get over-anxious about their children. "When I meet children, I clown around. For instance, there is six-year-old Yousuf with whom I talk about movies, chocolates, biriyani and popcorn. The child is reasonably happy when his parents are not around. When parents cry in front of the child, the child gets disturbed. It is sort of a ripple effect," says Nita.

Issues such as "femininity" can be quite sensitive and difficult to handle. Neerja recounts the story of a 72-year-old woman from Oman, who needed masectomy. She was horrified and said: "If people see me, they will say, `Oh she is the devil incarnate'. But such notions are deep-rooted and have to be approached at the level of individual patients. "Before the operation, she clutched my hand. I looked deep into her eyes and whispered something. She went into a trance and murmured, `You are Moslem'. For her if I am a Muslim, I am one. And the same is true for Hindus or Christians. The important thing is to connect and any way of doing that is okay; the rest is superficial," she says emphatically.

Nita narrates the story of a woman from Port Blair who had her breasts removed. The woman was worried about a wedding to attend and where she would get her clothes tailored. It is difficult, to retain the "essence of femininity through a degrading disease" and a "gruesome treatment".

But little things can reassure people. Nita carries with her a photo she took when she had lost her hair. "When patients look at the photo and at me today, they become confident of their hair growing back," she says.

Most women worry that they would become a burden to their family. "I tell them to forget all that and do it for themselves."

Men, on the other hand, largely tend to be clinical and want all the facts, says Neerja. "There was this old man, Abraham, with whom I discussed a lot of spirituality."

With human emotions to deal with, is it easy to maintain one's equanimity? "I do get emotionally involved. When I come across sad situations, I cannot come to the hospital the next day. I take off to do mundane things... so when I come back, I am fresh to handle people better," says Nita.

Neerja thinks otherwise. She feels energy should not be frittered away in crying. "I am empathetically involved but I cannot let my mood be reflected."

Neerja was at her lowest on one occasion, when she was driving from Tiruvannamalai. The daughter of a cancer patient sent Neerja an SMS greeting on her birthday. "But I was shattered when I came to know that her mother had passed away that morning. The 18-year-old daughter was aggressive and kept asking why she had to die."

But life must move on. This disease does change a lot of perceptions and definitely makes one stronger. "It shows you there is a lot in life that is so superficial," says Nita.

Adds Neerja, "You have to rise above the pettiness around. God is a pillar of strength. If he gives you a problem, it is his problem to give you a solution."

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