Chapter 12: Medulloblastoma

The practices were going on, and Moneeza succeeded in making her name in the city tournaments. She practiced day and night to win the tennis championship. She was very optimistic in achieving her dreams even the burning summer days were nevertheless to dull her ambition.

On the other hand, Moneeza's family were still fighting with Aaron's illness. For the family, Every day was like a blank paper, no one knew what the other day would bring up.

It was 4 o'clock in the evening. The  sky was deep blue, fully covered with cotton like white clouds. The parking of the hospital was rushy with visitors. Inside the hospital galleries, the nurses were going from ward to ward to inspect patients' drips. The visitors were waiting for their turn to meet their loved ones in the waiting area. 

In all this hustle, inside Dr. Hassam's cabin, Mr. Asmar was sitting on the chair, looking at the reports with teary eyes. "Listen, Mr. Asmar, we have charted up a treatment plan for him, which included surgical resection and postoperative radiotherapy." Dr. Hassam was telling him plainly by implying at the reports.

"but you said he is recovering now."

"Mr. Asmar, I know your concerns but your son is diagnosed with medulloblastoma."

Dr. Hassam took the MRI report, placed it before Mr. Asmar and pointed at it, "Look, here is the space occupying the lesion in his cerebellar region."

"He was. . . fine, he. . . he had nothing. . . ." Mr. Asmar's voice was trembling and his hands were shivering.

"don't worry, we will try our best. He will be alright. I am writing further tests here." Dr. wrote something on the paper and handed it over to Mr. Asmar. "After that, we will start proper treatment. Until then, he will remain in our observation."

Mr.  Asmar grabbed the paper with trembling hands and started weeping like a toddler. Dr. consoled him, "He will be alright, we have diagnosed it in the early stages. Pray for him, he will be fine soon."

Dr. Hassam patted him in the back, "We are giving him IV steroids, anti-seizure drugs, and other supportive medicines. He will be okay."

Three days passed by and after observing all the test reports; doctors gave the date of surgery and it was set to perform on Tuesday. All the life activities of Aaron's family were frozen and the only thing everyone knew was to pray for Aaron's recovery.

The days for the family were filled with sorrows and nights with fear. Moneeza stopped practicing, Miss Layla stopped cooking and conversing. There were no long talks between Miss Layla and Grandma. The house was stunned with misery. Everyone was in deep distress and each heart was shedding tears of blood. Mr. Asmar was sitting along with Aaron's bed, placing his forehead on Aaron's hand. Aaron was sleeping. He had no idea of what everyone around him were going through. He only knew his pain, the pain of needles in his veins. The headache he got on waking up, the blurring view he confronted on recovering his conscious.  The voices of nurses talking about giving him another injection or changing his sheets. Aaron, in all his miseries, were unaware of his family's ache. 

Mr. Asmar kissed his son's hand, when tears rushed out from his deep red swollen eyes. 

"He will be okay, have faith." Grandma placed her hand on Mr. Asmar's shoulder. He speaked in a low shallow voice. 

"I am hollow inside, it looks like all my hope is escaping down. I can't let him go."

"My son! It's a hardship poured on your head from God to check your patience. Be brave. He will be okay." Grandma holded her tears. She knew she had to be patient to tackle the situation.

Inside the house, everyone was lost in their thoughts. No one was speaking. They all were processing the situation and were praying continuously. They had no concern with cooking and eating as if they had been fasting for so long. 

Miss Layla was lying on the sofa and crying continuously. Her cold eyes were telling the pain; her heart is going through. She was still regretting the days when she ignored Aaron's complaints of continuous headache. 

"Mama! I can't concentrate. I don't know why I have pinching pain in my head. It's disturbing me alot.". . . ." Mama! You know, I was about to faint today while turning around the pole. Thank God, I didn't fall.". . . ." Mama! I think I can't study anymore. My headache is getting worse. " 

All these memories of Aaron's were bringing about more sorrow and she was regretting those times when she used to blame video games for his headache. 

Moneeza was sitting on the floor and placed her head on her grandpa's lap.

"When you both were young, we went to the beach, and you hid there. Remember? Aaron started crying for you and fainted." Grandpa's eyes were expressing dart of pain.

"Yes! and I came out for him,  I couldn't see him crying." She was looking at the floor, her eyes were red, and her lips were slightly open. "Now, he is making all of us cry." she barely said. 

Grandpa was running fingers across her hairs. It was the only gesture he could show her at the moment to offer her sympathy. He was halting himself from crying like a baby in front of his little angel.

(It's a reality, how much one grows older, he will remain young from his heart for his loved ones. The same was for Moneeza's grandparents. Their hearts were bleeding but they were pretending to be strong as they knew they were the only ones who could save their family from shattering into tiny pieces.)

"Stop crying now, and pray for his recovery." Grandpa's voice was heavy. He didn't want moneeza to catch his red teary eyes; he held his head up and gulped down a lump in his throat. He was in immense pain. His emotions were pouring out but he lived 10 years of his life without having any interaction with his only son, Mr. Asmar. He learnt from time to be brave and to control his deepest emotions.

"I will go to the hospital tomorrow." Moneeza looked upward, and said assuringly.

"You will need to live here with your mother, and grandma."

Grandpa again ran his fingers across her hairs and responded by looking into her eyes. 

"I can't stay here. I can't handle them."

"Asmar is too weak to handle all the anxiety there."

"Grandpa trust me, I will take care of your son."

"I believe in you but you must stay here with your mother." Mr. Asmar kissed her on her forehead. She looked down and stayed there weeping silently. and so was her grandfather.

(to be continued….)