Dying with Dignity

On the worst of days, when hate seems to have coloured all things great with strokes of rage, there is still love, lurking somewhere.

There is still beauty, budding in some seed a random person threw carelessly out with his half eaten fruit. There is still kindness and empathy and compassion, no, it hasn’t all left us. It is there in the hearts and hands and souls of the givers amongst us, working not for money or for fame, but purely to uplift someone in pain. One such example is the incredible work the people at Institute of Palliative Medicine (IPM) Calicut do.

You have read the stories of those who fought cancer and survived, living to tell this painful tale. But you might not have read as many stories of those who reach the point of no return and quietly slip into death. Most of the times, in incredible pain, without a support system by their side.

This institute exists to fill the gap in healthcare we have today. Where it’s all about symptoms, diagnosis, prognosis, cure. There is a denial of death. It is seen as a failure. When a terminal illness presents itself, the patient is given up on. Just when she needs the most support, in the final few days or weeks or months of her life, her case is closed. Untreatable. What should she do? Where should she go? How must she face death? How will her family cope with a missing her shaped space?

If given a choice, most of us would want to die at home surrounded by family. But the new truth is that a majority of us are probably going to die in an ICU, intrusive pipes fitted into every orifice of our body, just to prolong our life for a painful couple of days. Death with dignity has become some kind of idealistic wish.

IPM works tirelessly and constantly to make sure that this isn’t the case.This organisation provides free medical and social care for people who have been given up on by the rest of the medical fraternity. Their mission is to be with the dying person till their last breath, making sure they exit this life in the most comfortable way. This could mean providing them morphine to ease their unbearable pain or counselling them to help them come to terms with their imminent end.

I had the opportunity to visit this facility during my recent trip to Kerala. My friend Dr Anwar Husain works there and invited my family to visit. He is one of the most inspiring persons I know. Someone who gave up a successful GP practice despite protests from family and friends to join a place where death is a daily occurrence. It might seem morbid, but he says that helping people die with dignity and peace is one of the most fulfilling work.

So this organization, with its small team of dedicated doctors, depends mainly on the incredible nurses and the huge student volunteer group. They provide home care and discourage people from getting admitted to hospitals. The student volunteers bring in their infectious energy and laughter and cheer up the patients during the visits. They talk to the family and listen to their woes. After the death, the family is given support during the bereavement period, when they are most vulnerable.

I have truly not seen anything like it. I know the world seems dark right now, but places like Institute of Palliative Medicine with its incredible people like Dr Suresh Kumar and Dr Anwar Husain give me hope. If they can be selfless, so can we. And imagine a world where everyone lives for more than themselves, where we make the other person’s pain our own and try our best to heal it? No orange cheeto in power, no fascist leader can take away empathy from our hearts. There’s beauty midst the worst of hate. We reclaim this narrative and weave our own story, one interspersed with more kindness than apathy, more love than hate, more understanding than cynicism. Now isn’t that a world worth living for?