My name is Nabajyoti and it’s been 7 years that I have been undergoing treatment. It started while I was a student at Siliguri Medical College, West Bengal. At first, I just had weakness. I had become so weak that if I lied down, I couldn’t even get up from the bed. My face was completely pale.
Being in medical college, I could quickly consult doctors- that has been an advantage. I was given steroids and immuno suppressants. These temporary medicines worked for a while and I had completely disregarded the thought of getting a thorough checkup.
But steroids were bound to take a toll on my health. Last year, there was a blood clot on my left leg. A pipe was fit to suck this out of my body. I gave my exams and was about to start working as a dentist. But life seemed to have different plans, which were plain cruel.
In December 2016, my creatinine level was 2.6 (0.6 to 1.2 mg/dL is normal). My doctor told me that it was a little higher than usual and I needed care. In spite of being extra cautious, when I went back for my checkup in June 2017, the levels had alarmingly risen to 7 and in December 2017, it was 16. I was taken aback to know that my kidneys had failed. A kidney transplant was the only way that could save me now.
My brother, Debajyoti, who was also a doctor had taken the sole responsibility to get me back to life. Although there was some struggle that we had to go through, things didn’t seem impossible until April this year. On 6th of April, while my brother was returning from his clinic, he died on spot in a bike accident. This left us traumatized and dumb-founded.
I have to be on dialysis thrice a week. Without them, I can’t walk or eat. I keep vomiting if I try to eat. In last June, I fell so sick that I had to fly back right after my exams. Even before I could go home, I was in the hospital. My body is gradually giving up on me.
My brother took care of my treatment completely. My father, Haripada works in a very low position in Indian Railways. With his income, it is even difficult to get the medicines, let alone the cost of kidney transplant.
Before Debajyoti died, he had left some money in my account and that is how at least my dialysis can go on. My mother, Sikta has stopped eating since Debajyoti died. Our family, which was once a happy one, doesn’t exist anymore. The absurd silence throughout the house is haunting. My parents could never imagine that their sons who are taking up a profession to help others in distress, would themselves be in such high life-risk. They have become numb imagining they would lose me too.
We have already spent Rs 10 lakhs. My brother’s friends have helped us. Our relatives have barely come forward to help me. After 7 rejected donors, I finally have an unrelated donor to whom we have to pay Rs 4 lakhs apart from the cost of the transplant. I want to get better, start my clinic and give my parents a better life. But if I can’t get the transplant in time, there are chances that they would lose me too.