Part 5 - The cancer returned

My next posts will be a dedication to my grandmother, my nani. I will explain the nitty-gritty of what happened to her with these next posts. If you have recently experienced the passing of a loved one, I would advise not reading this now. I know how I felt after my nani passed and I couldn’t think straight.

Around November 2018, my nani was told the cancer had come back. My life changed in the blink of an eye. I was coming back from a society event at university when my mum called, saying she needed to speak to me urgently. I hate conversations like that because I knew there was something wrong. I asked for an immediate answer. She told me the cancer had come back. I was saddened but there was a glimmer of hope – if she had beaten it once before, she could do it again. My nana put on a brave face for us all, especially for my nani’s sake, but he was extremely upset by the news.

The cancer came back vigorously. She had to attend St. Bart’s Hospital, specialising in all types of cancers, located in central London. I devoted myself to my nani, wanting to help in her treatment and battle against cancer because I felt indebted to her. My relationship with my grandparents was hindered due to a series of conflicting encounters with a family member. Ultimately, I had to build my relationship again despite the situation not being my fault.

My grandparents became a prime focus in my life. I couldn’t go to my nani’s hospital appointments as university would get in the way. However, on my day off, I would spend time with my grandparents, helping out in whatever way I could. It became quite difficult to juggle my own aspirations with the responsibilities I had with my grandparents. Religion kept me sane, as I realised that I needed to devote as much time as I could to my nani. Everything else could and would wait, whereas her position was less certain. Summer 2019 passed in a whirlwind of hospital consultations and radiotherapy sessions with my mum and grandparents. My nani was usually silent during these radiotherapy sessions, but she’d like to listen to our conversation, contributing when she was able to.

When she finished her round of cycles, my grandparents decided to go on their yearly holiday to Dubai and Mauritius with my older brother. I wanted to go because it felt like my last chance to go on holiday with them, but I was debating as both my mum and younger brother were not going. I knew it would be risky if I went without my mum and brothers because of the family tensions, so I was forced to stay behind. I was still happy to see them go on holiday because my nani truly deserved a break. Yet, I had a dreading feeling when they departed as if it was the last time I would see my grandparents together happily. What if she didn’t make it back? Would she ever be as healthy as she was in that moment ever again?

When they came back, they were both very happy but my nani appeared ill. At the consultation, they said that the cancer may have spread. If the cancer had spread, then we couldn’t legally continue with treatment. Days went by examining what was really the problem. It may have just been a viral infection. We decided to proceed with the next session, but she became extremely ill following the session. Her blood had thinned and the swelling in her arms made it difficult to find a vein. We temporarily stopped the sessions, but that was her last one. It was an unfortunate time to go back to uni because things weren’t stable. I was awaiting news that she could proceed with treatment, but I didn’t know that there wasn’t a treatment suitable for her.

On that Thursday, I did the normal weekly shopping with my grandparents. Little did I know this would be our last time. My nani said to me: “I’m going to need some help. I don’t think I’ve got the strength in me to do it anymore.” It hurt hearing that. My nani is one of the strongest women that I know; she leads our entire family.

The next day I was asked by my grandparents if I could, for a couple hours a day, to clean their house. Of course, I accepted. It made me a bit more anxious because I knew she really wasn’t well. My nani wasn’t the sort of person to ask for help around the house, so I knew things were bad. I realised after it was a lot of work to do when you’re caring and trying to keep up with university. I had less time so understandably whenever people saw me, I looked like a mess. I was scrubbing the floors, commuting to uni, eating on the bus or in my lectures, going to my grandparents, then finally going home.

Whilst we were waiting for my nani to get healthier for treatment, she began getting heart palpitations. She said she was going to die. We were at home when we got the call to come over. She said: “I think it’s my time. Can you help me get dressed?” She meant getting her dressed for people to visit her when she was dead. My mum went to the next room and called up St Bart’s Hospital, but they didn’t pick up. We had to call our local hospital. These nice men came and were talking to her about cancer. She began speaking about her life: her husband, her children and grandchildren. This is what my nani took happiness in. I felt undeserving to a great woman like my nani’s happiness. It motivated me to devote myself more.

She was taken to the hospital by ambulance. Myself and my mum went with her. She was kept at hospital and only one person was allowed to stay with her, naturally this was my nana. When I went home that day, I only slept for an hour and went back to the hospital in the morning. I was afraid that I would lose her. We came to know that she had an underactive thyroid, a side-effect of the radiotherapy. She could only undergo treatment if she was able to be treated for the underactive thyroid, but she couldn’t get better. I related to her because I’ve experienced thyroid issues myself.

She was constantly in and out of hospital as she began to develop other conditions. Cruelly, it became like a second home. She would only last a couple of hours and it would be back to the hospital because of the immense pain she was in. She was too ill to be treated and so was declared as a palliative patient. We could only make her as comfortable as possible, but she’d still be in pain. She had described the pain in her arms as being worse than labour and childbirth. Islamically, a mother’s status is high partly because of the hardships she suffers during pregnancy and labour.

“We have enjoined on man kindness to his parents; in pain did his mother bear him, and in pain did she give him birth” Quran, (46:15).

To me, this signified how much pain she must have been going through. To deal with this pain, she would be given drugs like codeine and morphine. These drugs have side-effects too.

We would never leave my nani alone when she was at hospital. There was always at least always one family member with her. I went to the hospital every day, but I normally finished at 11am so I could dedicate my remaining time to my nani. I did my uni work in hospital rooms, but in all honesty, I could focus better when I was there. My younger brother and cousins would come at night. On Thursdays, I would start at 12am and finish at 6pm, so I would collect my brother and bring him to the hospital.

During her time in hospital, there were some unforgettable moments. I remember a specific moment sitting with my nani in the leisure room watching Boris Johnson and Jeremy Corbyn discuss Brexit. Suddenly, we hear a scream and a girl running out of a hospital room. A woman comes and comforts her. There’s some commotion and soon this girl along with two boys (around my age) walk into the room we’re in. I realise what’s happened: their grandma had just died. I looked at my nani and she was watching the news. Then, she said: “did their grandma just die?” I nodded. I know my nani was watching the commotion in front of me. She was so brave knowing that would soon be her reality. I looked at the commotion in front of me thinking how I just possibly watched their most intimate moment. This would happen to us soon and I wondered how her passing would pan out.

Seeing her get more ill everyday made me uncontrollably upset. I would cry late into the night and early morning once my family had gone to bed. It would allow me to be ready to face my nani the next day. The tears were sometimes uncontrollable and I would have to excuse myself to go to the toilet and sort myself out. My nani was courageous so it seemed weak to be crying in front of her.

I needed my friends a lot here and every one of them came through. That’s how I know I’ve got the right friends. Some of them came to see my nani in hospital which I am still happy and grateful for. It was nice to show her who my friends were. She was so happy that she didn’t stop speaking about for 3 days. I felt happy because she was talking about how she couldn’t see me graduate, get married and start a family. I couldn’t make things go any quicker, but I could make her a part of my world for as long as possible. It was more significant as I know all these friends are good and permanent. Being picky with friends was worthwhile.

My nani needed more support and this was when she told her family. She didn’t mention to anyone that she was ill. She thought it would be best to let her family know she was ill so they could say their goodbyes. Her brothers and sisters came, along with their families. Sitting there watching a conversation hearing: “what can I tell you? It’s my time.”

Telling the family entails a lot more mixing with family members, including the person that I had an encounter with. It was okay since my nani understood my situation more and I felt protected. Not only did she understand the situation, I think God opened her eyes. She saw what they were doing to my mum and myself and she spoke up for me. I had waited patiently since I was 12 and I never thought I would see that day. My nani being ill and that situation being understood was surreal to me. I just wish that I could have had a bit more time with my nani, but whatever God wills, happens.

I may not have had a lot of time, but it was the most constructive use of our time. She gave each of us a piece of advice for the future. A difficult conversation to have, but necessary. For me, it was about my health, career, current family and marriage. I asked her how I can do these things and she just said pray, God will be with you. It broke my heart knowing I was losing one of the purest of hearts. I hold her advice close. It has motivated and will continue to motivate my actions and choices.

I will mention that my own health wasn’t too good since the beginning of summer 2019. I won’t go into much detail because it’s quite personal. Nevertheless, what I went through may be beneficial to hear for some girls. It’s also relevant to my nani’s last days, which is why I’m talking about it here.

I have previously struggled with food. I wasn’t starving myself or over-eating again, but something wasn’t right. Perhaps it was something sub-conscious or I had truly caused permanent damage. My doctor mentioned that it could be a range of conditions, but all these conditions were triggered by stress and anxiety. I became angry with myself: ‘if I wasn’t able to look after myself, how could I look after my nani properly?’ I was far from it and I was only going to get worse.

The doctor said to know what the condition was and to control my symptoms, I must have a general surgery. The surgery would rule out if I have any conditions, and if so, what these condition(s) were. The idea of surgery really scared me, so the fact that I underwent it is a testament to how much I must have needed it. It became something I needed when he said that I could die in childbirth. This could happen to anybody, but it was very likely if I had any of the conditions. I needed to know since this would impact my future. This openly made me nervous and my doctor said, “but you don’t need to let this stress you.” Of course, I was. At that point, my mum told me to leave the room to speak to the doctor privately. I left because, in all honesty, the more he spoke, the more anxious I felt. The less I heard, the better it was.

What he said about childbirth stuck with me and motivated me to undergo surgery despite the process scaring me. I was telling my mum and grandparents what guy would ever want to be with me if I couldn’t even have kids. Of course, I’m not looking to have children anytime soon, but I want children in the future. Therefore, I didn’t want the option to be taken away from me. My grandparents and mum managed to persuade me to undergo surgery. My nani gave me the confidence. My nana said to take inspiration from nani. She was brave to go through everything she had suffered and she carried on; I should do the same. One day my mum had to call 111, but I ended up being taken to hospital by ambulance. They moved my surgery forward urgently because my symptoms had worsened, and I was experiencing a lot of pain. I ended up missing a lot of university, but I carried on going to the hospital and helping.

A week before my nani’s death, I had surgery. I actually went to see my nani straight away. She was so happy that it went well. I got the results immediately that there was nothing wrong with me. That was when my nani said: “You’re okay. You can have a normal life now.” She repeated this again ten minutes later. As the anaesthetics wore off and post-surgery pain worsened, I had to leave because I was struggling to sit properly. I carried on going to the hospital, but I wasn’t as helpful. I still had a lot of pain after the surgery, impeding the amount I was able to help care for my nani. It was painful to even walk. I had upcoming essays and presentations to complete and it became necessary for me to go back to university.

I went to university but I shouldn’t have. It was just tiring as I was still in pain. What’s worse, the university bus caught on fire and so that bus stop was closed. I had to walk all the way around and missed my bus. I didn’t see my nani that day because I was exhausted. What a waste of time it was now that I think about it. The next morning, I was doing an assignment and got a call that my nani was ill. I was told to come round to the house urgently. I ran over to her house before she was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. It was important that I should see her then; soon after she began to lose her memory.

After that, I didn’t go to university until the next Thursday, the day she passed away. I was too ill myself and I knew something was going to happen to my nani. We were expecting her to pass very soon. I predicted it to be the weekend, but it happened a lot sooner than expected.

I will talk about her actual passing more in my next blog post. Thank you if you’ve read this far – I know it was a very long one 😊

Love,

Shanaz Xx