Last fortnight, I was visiting in the bamboo-and-plastic slum along the railway tracks when I met Ateeq. We chatted for a while, and I asked my usual questions – about his children’s education, what work he does, what fuel they use for cooking. But it quickly became apparent that the family had a much more pressing concern: Ateeq has had blood in his urine for several years, and chronic pain in the lower abdomen. They showed me medical papers, which indicated a growth in his urinary bladder. The doctors at the local hospital had urgently referred him to a larger one.
My initial impression of Ateeq was negative. One of his x-rays was now unintelligible, ruined by water dripping through a shoddy roof. ‘How could you let that happen?’ I internally judged. His medical papers were 6 months old, and he had never gone to the larger hospital! Life had intervened – he had gone back to work, and was hoping that the problem would just ‘go away’. One of his relatives had died at that hospital, leaving the family scared to take him there… a vicious cycle of people going to the hospital too late, and having people not get well there! Furthermore, Ateeq was a smoker – this was probably the cause of the cancer in the first place.
Yet it was easy to convince him to come with me to the larger hospital, and, once we started navigating the complex medical system, it became clearer that he was determined to get well. One day, I stood with him in line to get a token, only to be dismayed at where we were on the list – 231! I told him that I needed to go, but he patiently waited the whole day, to end up seeing the doctor at 4pm! We now have some more medical clarity: the growth will likely need to be removed surgically.
I have also been impressed by Ateeq’s family’s way of relating with each other. Ateeq has 7 children. Despite their difficult circumstances, most are in school. Since he has been sick, Ateeq has only been working intermittently, and his oldest son (16) has been apprenticed to a tailor to help with the family finances. If Ateeq doesn’t survive, more of his children will probably follow their brother into child labour.
Ateeq’s family invited me to dinner a couple nights ago. Despite their meagre budget, they had made an expensive meat dish. Being a vegetarian, I apologetically declined, and stuck to rice and a delicious home-made pickle. They made some show of getting me to eat, but I could see that they needed the protein and iron themselves! The hospitality of the poor puts my attempts at generosity in its place.
Getting to know Ateeq has helped me both understand the difficulties with the Indian medical system, and have more empathy for the people whose lives that hang on it. When I see rooms crowded with patients, I am no longer as angered with the pushing and shoving, but rather try to remember that behind each impatient voice is a desperate patient, whose story I do not know. Ateeq would appreciate your prayers for his treatment and recovery.
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