A smile is plastered on little Jayashree's cherubic face as she dances merrily. She is the life of the party at the Children's Hospital, Egmore. Except for a head shorn of hair, there is nothing to suggest that this eight-year-old is battling leukaemia. For Jayashree and other kids undergoing a protracted treatment for cancer, this Rose Day celebration is a source of cheer.
For the parents of these children, it is a wellspring of hope. Testimonies of teenagers, who have beaten this monster fair and square, come as a balm to the bruised hearts of these parents. It gives them the strength to continue the battle, despite the odds.
Almost without exception, families of children admitted to the cancer ward of this hospital live in poverty. The kitchen fires don't burn unless one or both parents go to work. Staying at the hospital with the child and making frequent follow-up visits often seems unaffordable. There are cases of parents not returning for timely follow-ups and losing their children as a result.
With sustained treatment, the prognosis for acute lymphoid leukaemia (ALL) — accounting for the majority of leukaemia cases among the paediatric population — in children is good. A doctor at the hospital points out that a child with ALL requires hospitalised treatment for around three months, followed by periodic visits for the next two to two-and-a-half years. As a result of discord within the family and other social pressures, some parents miss follow-up dates and this sometimes results in undoing the progress in the treatment.
Sensitising parents
There are professionals at this ward to sensitise parents to the dangers of delayed or truncated treatment. Kalpana of Ekam Foundation, whose lost her child to leukaemia, is an emotional anchor for these parents.
Hariharan of Cross Blood Foundation (CBF) — which arranges blood donation camps to supply the needs at this ward — has lived through the ordeal of losing a son to this form of cancer; he counsels the parents.
Such efforts have paid off. Families of children at the ward appear to be a determined lot. With tears moistening her eyes, the grandmother of four-year-old Gunasekaran — emaciated and unable to walk — relates that she and her daughter come from Arakonam. They want to stay at the hospital and continue the treatment as long as it is required.
Her words are submerged by little Udayakumar's piercing wail, in response to an IV needle being injected into him: these children are constantly administered fluids, blood and medicine through veins.
As leukaemia can strike very young children, even at birth, the difficulty of making them comprehend the necessity of treatment is immense. “We can counsel parents, but not two-year-olds and three-year-olds,” says Hariharan. “The only solution is organising entertainment that can take their minds off the dreariness of cancer treatment.”
Students from the National College of Design (Egmore), who performed at the Rose Day entertainment show organised by CBF, are on the same page: they promise to return another day to cheer the little ones.
