A rainy afternoon at JFK Hospital

I was thinking of Naomi for a few days, wondering how she was getting on. The treatment she received in India improved the quality of her life for a few months but when she recently came over to visit us, she had lost weight again and was complaining of severe pains again. We connected her to one of our friends in the medical community, hoping she could find another benefactor who could fund another trip abroad for further treatment.  Nothing came of it. 

So, Haresh found out from Facebook that Naomi was at JFK. We went for a visit. 

Haresh went in first to find out where she was and meet her first. I waited outside with Kavita. I found some old ladies sitting under a tree and, chatted with them a bit. They were besotted with Kavita and, cuddled her. 

JFK's reputation is not very good. Liberians have nicknamed it "Just for Killing." Most people who are taken to the hospital under emergency conditions do not survive. There is at least one horror story of a missing person whose body was found in the grounds of the hospital. Notwithstanding bad management, the main issue here is that the medical infrastructure in the country is in shambles. 

It makes my blood boil to think that the aid and development industry has not established at least one fully-functional hospital staffed with qualified doctors and nurses and equipped with the best tools and equipments. Billions of dollars later, what do the UN and other NGOs have to show for anything? 

I sat under the tree with a heavy heart wondering about Naomi and, wondering about her prospects in fighting cancer in a place like Liberia. I thought of other friends who succumbed to illnesses, sudden or prolonged, while it drizzled. 

After Haresh came out, I went up to meet Naomi. Luckily, Haresh had bumped into Naomi's mother and easily found her. Before I went up, he quickly told me that she is in a bad way again and, that the tumour has grown again. Surgery without the possibility of chemotherapy will only be a disaster. The doctor had given Haresh a dismal picture. 

Apparently, Naomi had begged the hospital to take her in. She did not have the $ 50/night and other fees. 

I went up to see Naomi and, she was in that bad state again, very thin and gaunt. I made some pleasantries and told her I'd send her some fruits and snacks later that day. 

Naomi's mother walked me out and, we spoke a little bit. I told her we were so frustrated with her family for never having expressed any interest or genuine appreciation for our efforts to get her better treatment in India. Moreover, we had hardly met anyone from Naomi's family. It explained to her that many times I had even dumped my frustration on Naomi herself. Her mother quietly listened to me and, said that things were quite difficult for her and, although she had been with Naomi all along, it wasn't easy. Plus she was too embarrased to come over. As we shared our feelings, I felt utterly depressed thinking about Naomi's suffering and enormous struggle to fight for her life. I also felt angry at myself for being impatient, unsympathetic and overly judgemental. 

As I explained to Naomi's mother, the history of our relationship, I realised that my desire to help Naomi is mixed up and not even very clear. Until perhaps now. 

I know Naomi through Wesley. She was one of his favourite staff since she is an exceptionally bright and intelligent girl. I knew only of her - mainly for her violent disposition and, frequent quarrels with the rest of her colleagues. She had also appeared quite stand offish to me a couple of times I had visited his office. Suffice to say, I hardly knew her and, had a bad idea of her. It was only when Wesley died and, I decided to take over his office that I got to know her as a real person. She was suffering from an illness, had a leg amputated and was a bag of bones. She used to visit me but often go home, unable to even sit on a chair, screaming in agony. I even offered her a part time job with us but she was often sick. I got to learn of her miserable marriage and, it helped to understand her a bit more.  After Haresh and I got together, he inspired me to try to help her. That's how her trip to India materialised. 

Still in my arrogant ways, I judged for not appearing "grateful enough." I did not appreciate family members coming to meet us. What did I want? Sure, we stretched our finances by funding the trip. Sure, we made great efforts to find other friends and generous people to help us to help her. But what I did want out of it? Why was I so judgemental?  

If I think about it, that is my personality - rather formal, full of give and take, subjected to good conduct and expectations of hospitality and kindness. It should only apply to socialising with people of the same means. Not those who have less than us and, suffering from life-threatening disease. What do I know of family dyanmics in poverty conditions? What do I know what happens when people are in need and, no one is around to help? 

I suppose I also come from a certain background where I was not always taught to really reach out to people in suffering. I have even witnessed in my own extended family the lack of sympathy and kindess amongst very close family members. 

It has been a long learning curve for me - to not only have a sense of compassion and desire to help but, also to learn to help without expectation. 

I thought about all of this and, felt ashamed and tired of my feelings. I felt grief thinking about Naomi's suffering, the injustice of life, reminded of my first experience of suffering of my university friend in London who passed away from disease, and how I took it so personally. My first youthful reactions to death were anger, a sense of injustice and a complete rejection of the existence of a God. But how have I dealt with these philosophical questions hence? By continuing to be an angry aetheist or, try to do some good?

Helping out Naomi was a first step. And, I'm so glad I had a partner like Haresh to teach me what a selfless act really means. The second, third and all subsequent steps entail one to deal with life and death in a realistic, sympathetic and graceful manner. Be aware of suffering but, if you can help, even better. Be aware that  you might not be able to solve all the world's problems but, trying to relieve some pain around you, is the right thing to do. Being genuinely kind to people makes life and the world literally a better place. 

So, where am I now? I am overwhelmed by a sense of grief thinking of this girl Naomi, being eaten by this disease. I think of her courage to continue to fight for her life. Haresh tells me that it is unlikely she will survive and, perhaps these are her last few moments. 

As much as I would love to send her abroad for further treatment again to save her life, our finances are seriously stretched at the moment and, we simply cannot afford it. I feel helpless.

I can only resolve to show Naomi as much affection and care as I can now. 

I normally hate hospitals but they actually can inspire both despair and hope.