Exactly a fortnight ago, I met my oncologist for a review after my seventh chemotherapy cycle. He informed me that my treatment for ovarian cancer had been completed and instructed me to follow up every quarter.
“You can resume normal activities, and once you feel fit, get back to work as well,” he said. After eight months of chemotherapy as well as extensive surgery, I was glad that the treatment was finally over. The very fact that I did not have to undergo anymore chemo made me feel liberated.
While driving home from the hospital, I saw an advertisement for the Pinkathon (a run for women held annually to raise awareness on cancer). At that moment I thought, “Why don’t I participate?” But I had my doubts. I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk the minimum three-kilometre category, as I am constantly exhausted. Moreover, I am still coping with severe lower backache and knee pain.
Nevertheless, I dwelt upon the idea of participating in the Pinkathon for the next two days. I finally called Neerja Mallik, my counsellor, whose bear hugs, advice and kindness cheered me through my treatment. (She knows what she’s talking about — Neerja has conquered breast cancer twice, and radiates joy and positive energy). Neerja said that she was training for the three-km run, and insisted I join her. The next day, determined to participate, I filled up forms for myself and my twin daughters.
The Pinkathon was to be my celebration. After being unable to do any major physical activity for over eight months, I was determined to take control of my life. It had come to a grinding halt on August 11 last year, when I was diagnosed via an MRI scan suggested by my orthopaedist because I was grappling with back and joint pain. I had made elaborate plans for a two-week holiday in Scandinavia and was all set to fly out of Chennai on August 15. Instead, I ended up in hospital for my first chemo on that day.
Over the last eight precious months, I got the opportunity to spend more time with my family and connect with friends. I started reading again, and went through piles of books.
I had more time for my parents and my children, who loved having me at home all day for a change. My husband took four months off from work and was my complete caretaker.
Immense support and motivation from my family and friends helped me stay strong and courageous through this period. I felt blessed.
In fact, my attitude to this time was determined by my 16-year-old twins, who put me on the right track when they hugged me before I went in for my first chemo saying, “Just be normal and be yourself, amma. Consider this as your ME time.”
From that moment, there were no fears or tears. I was ready for battle.
On April 6, I got the opportunity to meet supermodel, runner and Pinkathon founder Milind Soman. I told him about my treatment and intention to attempt the run.
It was this meeting that further motivated me to participate. “Fitness of a person is determined by her positivity and mental strength. A strong mind can overcome any difficult situation,” he said, putting at ease any fears I had.
I decided these words would define my state of mind. Even though just walking within my house was difficult for me, I told myself that I would get to the venue and participate. Whether I completed it or not didn’t matter.
It was a question of proving to myself, and the people who helped me through the last eight months, that I was firmly on the road to recovery.
I’ll be honest: When I left home on the morning of April 12, to the Pinkathon venue, I was still not sure if I could manage standing at the venue for over 20 minutes, let alone participate in the event.
But once I got there, the energy and enthusiasm of the over 10,000 women assembled, as they danced to rhythmic drum beats, energised me. I even managed to do a mild zumba!
I finally managed to walk just about two km — very slowly — cheered on by my family and volunteers.
My daughters walked with me. It was hard, but in retrospect I am so glad I did it.
Hopefully, I will run the three-km next year. I will.
