The Subliminal Guilt

My uncle died last August. His brain tumor had relapsed after eighteen years and even after a successful operation, his body couldn't bear the stress of the radiation therapy and his condition deteriorated in the months after and he breathed his last on 29th August, 2018. The months leading up to his demise were really stressful for the whole family. Seeing a man lose himself, being paralyzed and unable to speak, is hard. It didn't help that he was the last of my two closest family members. My grandmother was understandably shattered after his death. She soon started keeping unwell and has been bedridden ever since.

A few days back, I woke up in the morning, dazed by a dream I'd had. In that dream, I shot my uncle several times in the chest and was trying to dispose of his body, while throwing a party to friends. I just couldn't hide his body well and I was terrified of people seeing what I'd done. I woke up, drenched in sweat. I couldn't understand why I had that dream. So I thought about it and thought about it some more. I realized that maybe I have some subliminal guilt about my uncle's death.

So, I decided to write about it.

Back in July 2017, I noticed that my uncle was pausing a lot when he spoke. He always used to pause a little, a side effect of his first brain tumor operation. But this time, it seemed way worse and I asked him to consult a neurologist. He did. And as I suspected, his brain tumor was back. His last operation had happened in 1999. My father had been alive back then. He had taken care of everything, neglecting even his own health, which eventually led to his death, but my uncle had recovered.

So now, the doctors at Burla Medical College insisted that only AIIMS, Delhi could treat a case like my uncle's. SO I flew him down to Delhi. And we started running to AIIMS. I live in Manesar, Gurgaon, which is some 45 kms away from central Delhi. So visiting AIIMS frequently was kind of a tough task, especially because I don't drive. Any way, I would hire cabs and take him. The AIIMS guys made a decent diagnosis but they just wouldn't give us a date for the operation, even after one and half months had passed. I was getting restless. The doctors at Burla had made it seem like it was an emergency and the doctors at AIIMS were just not moving quick enough.

We were spending an obscene amount just on conveyance every time we went to AIIMS and the fact that it wasn't bearing any fruit, was making me crazy. Also the fact that I was staying absent from office a lot due to this, was making me nervous about losing my job. But eventually, in November, we got to learn about another doctor at Sir Ganga Ram Hospital who agreed to take the case. It's a private hospital and the surgery did cost a bit of money, but my uncle was feeling better just a week after it. His motor functions were improving substantially and things were looking up.

That's when the doctor prescribed radiation therapy, which is a common thing in such cases. Now there were a few places we could go to for the radiation, but they were all in Delhi. He had to undergo ten weeks of radiation therapy and I knew I couldn't afford to be away from work for so many more days. I was already running tight on finances and losing my job in that moment seemed like a terrifying turn of events. So, we looked at some alternatives. We found out that radiation therapy was also offered by a hospital in Cuttack, where uncle had been operated eighteen years ago. When I discussed my problems with him, he assured me that he could get the radiation done by himself, with the help of a student of his. 

While hesitant in the beginning, I was reassured as he had started walking properly and he wasn't pausing so much while talking. Persuaded by the fear of losing a good job and some other personal factors, I decided to let him get the treatment done at Cuttack. So I flew him back to Sambalpur, our hometown and I returned back to Gurgaon. 

Now my uncle used to procrastinate a lot. And he did it with the treatment too. He let a few months pass by before he started getting the radiation, even after several sessions of coaxing from my side. And finally, when he went for it, his health started getting worse. I was told that he wasn't having a lot of food there, because he avoided spicy stuff and since he had to stay in Cuttack, which is six hours away from our hometown, he just managed by eating less. 

Over the course of the next few months, his condition just became worse. He had become quite thin then next time I visited him and he couldn't walk properly. The doctors wouldn't say anything. I appointed a nurse for him, to help out. He was soon bedridden after falling and hitting his head. The doctors said that it could be an effect of residual cancer and not much could be done about it. We knew he was dying. Once a person is bedridden and attached with a catheter, he is as good as gone. 

He couldn't recognize me the last time I saw him alive. I looked into his eyes and the twinkle of seeing someone familiar had just gone away. He suffered like that for a few more months before passing away. The year long ordeal of his condition had also affected other things, including my marriage. Trying times like these test the fiber of any relationship and while strong ones survive, the weaker ones just wither away.

When I think rationally, I know that I wouldn't have been able to change much even if I'd taken care of his radiation therapy, but somewhere deep inside, I harbour some guilt for not doing it. I sometimes feel like I let down my father's legacy by not seeing my uncle's treatment through to the last stage. Maybe, if I had taken him for the radiation therapy right after the surgery, his condition would have improved. Maybe I shouldn't have prioritized my employment at that time.

Up until I had that dream the other night, I didn't even know that I had any guilt about my uncle's death. And now, I just wish to forget it. In my twenty nine odd years, I have learnt that guilt plays a big part in shaping a man's character. It makes us who we are. While nobody in my family (whatever's left of it) blames me for what happened, I think I blame myself and that's just another demon which will stay with me, till my time comes.