29 June 2021…
Bone Marrow Transplant, Day 1.
Yaseen, Mujeeb and I sat in the reception area of the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit (BMTU), waiting for a nurse to usher Yaseen in. I can’t remember what I told him, but I imagine it must have been some words of encouragement. And that I loved him. I hugged him as much as Covid protocols would allow, and then I watched my son as he walked away.
Yaseen was so strong that day, no tears, barely showing emotion. As he stepped through the glass doors into the unit, Mujeeb and I were left standing, outsiders of the BMTU, and outsiders to the battle our son was about to face on his own.
We would have no access to Yaseen for almost a month. No hugs, no kisses, no holding his hands to let him know it would be okay. Nothing, except for the kisses blown to him and words spoken at his room window from outside the hospital. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for him all alone in that room, feeling extremely sick, and not having any family or friends to comfort him.
All praise be to Allah SWT, we got through the 7 days of chemotherapy, which was a nerve-wracking part of the transplant. I was most concerned about those 7 days, knowing how his body had reacted to chemotherapy sessions in the past.
The side effects, no surprise, were intense. In fact, it was so intense, the BMTU finally proposed for one parent to visit with him inside his room, hoping to make things a little easier for him. But Yaseen refused this. I’m not sure why, but I suspect that he wanted to spare us the pain of witnessing his distress so closely.
So day after day, we stood outside Yaseen’s room window, looking in as the chemotherapy effects took hold.
I learnt one of the greatest life lessons during this period. There were days that were clearly hard for Yaseen. As his mom, I could tell just from the look on his face, or how his body was tensed or some other tell-tale sign. But the moment when he saw us, his face would change. There’d be a smile, and his thumb would go up, to indicate that he was okay.
We were supposed to be pacifying him, but instead he was trying to pacify us, to keep us from worrying too much about him. I learnt the valuable lesson of trying to prioritize the needs of others above ourselves. I call this charity – one of the greatest forms of it – trying to ease the burden of another when you are in a position even lower than theirs.
That is how the 28 days passed…a blur of stressing about infections, trying to minimize the side effects, keeping positive about the success of the transplant and counting down the days until Yaseen came home.
And then, on 26 July 2021, four weeks after the start of this nerve-wracking process, Yaseen was discharged. I remember the day so well. Mujeeb and I again stood at the doors of the BMTU, but this time instead of saying goodbye to our son, we were getting ready to welcome him. I stood, waiting with happy anticipation, longing to be in the same room as him once again and to give him a great, big hug. The four weeks had felt so long!
I stood with my phone camera on, recording Yaseen as he walked down the passage of the BMTU toward the exit. The nurses were cheering him on, and I can’t explain the joy I felt. I was so grateful to Allah SWT, just so very grateful!
Yaseen stepped through the doors and, after nearly a month, we got to hold our son. He hugged his dad first, and I stood there recording the moment. What the camera captured was an intense hug between father and son, one of the most beautiful memories for Mujeeb to cherish. And then it was my turn. I turned off the camera and hugged my son, feeling extremely happy, and extremely relieved!
It was a day of celebration. All praise be to Allah SWT! We were inundated with messages and calls from family and friends. The relief for all was enormous. This journey that we predicted would last around 6 months had transpired to almost 11 months. But now, all the major treatments were behind us. The hard journey was done.
Except…I was wrong. The hard journey wasn’t done.
Sometimes Allah SWT blesses us with a life of ease, and if we show gratitude, He raises our rank with Him. And sometimes Allah SWT first lowers us into difficulty and calamity, and if we show patience, He raises our rank with Him.
A rich person who gives lots of charity and is grateful, or a person who has lost their spouse but keeps patient – each has a unique path towards Allah SWT.
As for me, I can’t count how many times I had asked Allah SWT for Jannah, and not just Jannah, but the very highest level thereof.
“…My Lord, build for me near You a house in Paradise….” [Qur’an, 66:11].
I rarely paused to consider: what was I doing to earn it? If I really wanted it, then what bad deeds needed to go, and what good deeds needed to come? What in my life needed to change?
Truly, Allah SWT knows us so well, better than we know ourselves. And He knew about me, what I didn’t know about myself.
He (SWT) knew that, for me, a test involving ease, bounties and gratitude would not be sufficient. That would not inspire me enough. He knew, that for me to possibly achieve what I was asking for, I needed to face a test involving difficulty, involving patience.
So Allah SWT was about to present me with this opportunity – a hard test that was about to get even harder. And what I chose to do with this opportunity, that was up to me.
Actually, even now, every opportunity still is up to me. As how your opportunities are up to you.
Beautiful, tranquil, you-can-have-whatever-you wish-for, Jannah…that doesn’t come easy. I now realize this. It takes effort, sacrifice and lots of dua, for anyone who wants it.
And the delights that are only found in the highest level…that will take even more. If we really want it.