Page 60 - Till the Last Breath . . .

For the next two months, she hadn’t sent a single mail to the doctor in

GKL Hospital and she didn’t receive any. Her condition had been
worsening steadily, her spirit and body slowly dying. She and her parents
had braced themselves for the inevitable. She was going to die. Her parents

were going to cry and lament for the rest of their lives. There was nothing
that could have changed that. She was in a wheelchair. Only liquids were

allowed, chewing food was out of the question. There were times she had
tried to eat solid food and had choked on it as the muscles in her food pipe

gave way. One day when her suffering had reached a peak, she sent a mail
to Arman, updating him about her pitiable condition. She wanted it to be a

long mail, but her body gave up within half an hour.

Pihu Malhotra <p_malhotra198@gmail.com>

To Dr Arman Kashyap <ArmanKashyap@GKL.co.in>

Hi Dr Arman,

This could be my last mail. To you or to anyone. The disease has
progressed to its last stage. It took me twenty minutes to type this. I am

constantly exhausted. It’s like a big boulder is crushing my lungs,
snuffing the life out of me. I need assistance for everything now. I
can’t even clean myself after going to the washroom. I am sure you

know what happens. My parents are being brave. They don’t cry in
front of me. I spend my hours sleeping or smiling at my relatives. They

know I am dying too. It’s a strange feeling. I am scared at times.
Sometimes I think about how I am going to die. Will my lungs
collapse? Or my heart? And then I am relieved at times. It’s going to

be over. I ask my father to read me my books from medical school.
Maybe I will be a doctor in some other life, if there is anything like

that. I just want to thank you for replying to my mails and showing me
your research website. It meant a lot. Thank you. I need to go now.

Best of luck.

Regards