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Every 21 days, I have to see my 2-year-old son endure the pain of a blood transfusion. For a few days afterward, he looks like his usual self — playful, energetic, my happy little boy. But soon, the weakness returns, and he cries endlessly.
Last week, after his latest transfusion, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and it felt like he was asking why he had to suffer like this. I had no words, only prayers.
My son was just six months old when we noticed something was wrong
He had constant colds and fevers, and no medicine seemed to help. From one hospital to another, we searched for answers. Initially, tests indicated that it could be cancer. I still remember my hands shaking when the doctor said that.
But then further tests revealed something else, just as bad. My son was diagnosed with thalassemia, a severe blood disorder. The doctors explained that his body doesn’t make enough healthy blood cells and that he would need blood transfusions every month to survive. By the time he was one, the transfusions became more frequent, happening every 21 days.
When he turned two, the doctors told us there was hope
The doctors said a bone marrow transplant could cure him. But hope came with a heavy price. They explained the transplant would cost tens of lakhs, an amount that is impossible for me to afford as a daily-wage truck driver. I can't even imagine such a figure in my head. Still, we clung to one piece of good news: my daughter, his ten-year-old sister, was a perfect match to be his donor.
I’ve worked every waking hour of my life to provide for my family, but now I can no longer even do that
We had to leave our hometown and move to Bangalore for my son’s treatment. My job is gone, my wife and I are at the hospital with our son every day. My daughter is missing school because she has to be here with us. I’ve spent everything I’ve earned, but it’s nowhere near enough. I got him a small toy with some of the last money I had in my pocket, hoping it would make him feel better.
But my son is undergoing chemotherapy right now to prepare for the transplant and it’s taking a terrible toll on him: his hair is falling out, he’s weak, and his cries pierce my heart.
Without the transplant, our son’s life will continue to hang by a thread
Over time, his condition will worsen. His heart, liver, and lungs will fail. The thought of losing him terrifies me, but the reality is that I can’t save him on my own. I’ve tried everything, but now I have to turn to you.
I want my son to have a life better than mine. I dream of him growing up healthy, maybe even becoming a doctor or a scientist so he can help others like him. But right now, that dream feels so far away. Please, I beg you, help me save my son. Even one rupee can make a difference.
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