Mala Touched Our Lives
By Sharm Aboosally
Mala was in her late teens when she came to work for my family. She had no immediate family of her own – her mother had run off with another man and left her in the care of her grandmother. Her father had married again and this poor girl was left to herself without parental love or guidance. She loved to talk to me – chatting about how she longed to see her mother and how people would describe her mother as being pretty and prosperous. She talked about her school days and how she went to a sewing school before finally coming to us.
Looking back, our house was indeed the final stage in this poor girl’s short life, although we didn’t know it then.
It started with a painless lump in her neck, which the doctor diagnosed as mumps. Mala was given medicine and asked to rest – within a week she seemed to be normal and was soon back at work, attending to her chores with a willingness and unselfishness, which was a rare quality. But, a week later another swelling appeared on the other side of her neck and we all knew that this could not be mumps. She had a full check up and this time the doctor’s verdict was that she be immediately entered into Sri Jayawardenapura hospital. On the same day, there was a call from the laboratory with her test results – it was cancer.
We kept it to ourselves, behaving normally, but she must have known because she became thoughtful.
Soon after, Mala was entered into hospital. She worshipped us and said goodbye to the children, who she had looked after so well. I told her to be brave and not give up, that she was only 21, with all the modern medicine available, she would be best looked after in the hospital and would have every chance. An uncle was brought down from her village and asked to keep us informed. We promised we would visit.
A couple of weeks later, we heard that there was no improvement and she was only getting worse. The killer disease had been in her system for over three years, killing her slowly. When the doctors thought there was no hope, a telegram was sent to the village and arrangements made to take her home as she had no more than a week to live.
Before she was taken to the village, she was brought to our house. She was dazed, not able to recognise anyone, not even the children who ran out to se her, those she had looked after with such care. She was already in another world.
We heard later that just two hours after being taken to her grandmother’s house, she had closed her eyes forever. Death had caught up with her in the prime of her life. But in her short time here, Mala had touched our lives and I will not forget that serene face.
Mala was in her late teens when she came to work for my family. She had no immediate family of her own – her mother had run off with another man and left her in the care of her grandmother. Her father had married again and this poor girl was left to herself without parental love or guidance. She loved to talk to me – chatting about how she longed to see her mother and how people would describe her mother as being pretty and prosperous. She talked about her school days and how she went to a sewing school before finally coming to us.
Looking back, our house was indeed the final stage in this poor girl’s short life, although we didn’t know it then.
It started with a painless lump in her neck, which the doctor diagnosed as mumps. Mala was given medicine and asked to rest – within a week she seemed to be normal and was soon back at work, attending to her chores with a willingness and unselfishness, which was a rare quality. But, a week later another swelling appeared on the other side of her neck and we all knew that this could not be mumps. She had a full check up and this time the doctor’s verdict was that she be immediately entered into Sri Jayawardenapura hospital. On the same day, there was a call from the laboratory with her test results – it was cancer.
We kept it to ourselves, behaving normally, but she must have known because she became thoughtful.
Soon after, Mala was entered into hospital. She worshipped us and said goodbye to the children, who she had looked after so well. I told her to be brave and not give up, that she was only 21, with all the modern medicine available, she would be best looked after in the hospital and would have every chance. An uncle was brought down from her village and asked to keep us informed. We promised we would visit.
A couple of weeks later, we heard that there was no improvement and she was only getting worse. The killer disease had been in her system for over three years, killing her slowly. When the doctors thought there was no hope, a telegram was sent to the village and arrangements made to take her home as she had no more than a week to live.
Before she was taken to the village, she was brought to our house. She was dazed, not able to recognise anyone, not even the children who ran out to se her, those she had looked after with such care. She was already in another world.
We heard later that just two hours after being taken to her grandmother’s house, she had closed her eyes forever. Death had caught up with her in the prime of her life. But in her short time here, Mala had touched our lives and I will not forget that serene face.
posted by Mithuruwela Cancer Support Network @ 11:54 AM
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