He did not let cancer cripple his spirit
Sanjay Austa

WHEN doctors told Anup Kumar he had only four months to live, his world collapsed. He thought "why me" and "why now". This was in April 2000 when Kumar visited the doctors for a routine check-up before joining his new job in the Gulf. A few months before, due to recession, the advertising agency he worked in had closed shop, leaving him jobless. The new job in the Gulf had been God sent. In Anup’s words it was a "dream job" he had always wanted. But the doctors’ diagnosis turned his life around in ways he had never imagined.

They found a patch on his lungs and on further investigations concluded he had cancer, which was in its fourth stage. "The doctors told me bluntly that if my body did not respond to the chemotherapy treatment, I would have only four months to live," says Anup Kumar. In his 50 years of existence there had been nothing worse. Till then he had led a fairly carefree life. A postgraduate in nuclear physics from Delhi University, Kumar had had several successful stints in advertising agencies. His elder daughter had got married a year ago and his younger daughter was doing brilliantly in college. Anup was keen to send her abroad for higher studies, while his wife Amrita was all excited about restoring her grand uncle’s 200-year-old house in Rajasthan. Anup Kumar had planned to celebrate his new job with a 15-day holiday with his family.

But the news of the dreaded disease changed all that. Instead of packing his bags to go to the Gulf, Anup got himself admitted a hospital. Instead of charting out their holiday plans, or planning the restoration of the grand old house in Rajasthan, or exploring foreign universities for his daughter, Kumar found himself shoring money for his expensive treatment. But there was hardly any money to go around. The company he worked in was in dire financial straits and had not paid its employees in months. His bank had nothing. His wife had to sell off her ornaments, including her wedding ring.

The treatment began and Kumar braced himself for it. Oncologists were consulted not only in Delhi where Anup Kumar lived but also in Mumbai. But oddly, different doctors had different prescriptions. Some suggested surgery while others advised against it. It had Kumar wondering how doctors could offer different opinions for the same disease. Kumar eventually decided on chemotherapy.

At the end of it, he realised he had turned his death sentence around. He not only responded wonderfully to the chemotherapy treatment but emerged an expert on how to win a battle against cancer. His phenomenal book, The Joy of Cancer written in the first six months of his treatment, between bouts of nausea and side effects of chemotherapy, is essentially a lesson in living positively in all circumstances. According to doctors, the success of chemotherapy treatment depends largely on the mental state of the patient. Kumar won his war against cancer mainly because he did not let any negative thoughts cross his mind.

The Joy of Cancer explores a seven-point plan to battle cancer. It records Kumar’s personal experiences, including his dilemmas, cumbersome treatment, hopes, little triumphs and what he learnt from other patients and books on cancer. One of the cardinal tenets of The Joy of Cancer is "accept your cancer". "Once you’ve accepted the fact that you have cancer, you’re in a position to notice its benefits. So many emerged in my life, which is why I called this book "The Joy of Cancer," writes Kumar in the book. One of the most immediate and visible benefits was that Kumar quit smoking. "I had been a heavy smoker all my adult life, smoking 30 to 40 cigarettes a day for over 35 years," says Kumar. The cancer diagnosis insured that no cigarette touched his lips again.

The second benefit, according to Kumar, was that he learnt who his real friends were. "We go through life wondering whether we’ve invested our energies and affections in the right people. Now Iknow. The line between those who care and those who don’t is clearly drawn when you’re in trouble," says Kumar. One of the painful facts he had to swallow was his father’s indifference. He not only refused the virtually bankrupt Kumar a loan of money but also stayed away from his ailing son. Yet another benefit that accrued to him was that Kumar finally learnt to let go. "Often I would work late into the night either at home or at office. Family holidays were not on my agenda. My wife felt angry, the children were repeatedly disappointed when plans to leave town were cancelled. It had become so bad that nobody even suggested a holiday anymore," he says. Kumar began to introspect and learnt to relax. He realised his identity was no longer in his suits or polished shoes. He finally found his family and learnt to appreciate its warmth and love. In his own words, "It is ironical that in the face of death, I began for the first time, to really live."

In these past two years Anup Kumar has made all kinds of adjustment in his life that are mandatory for a patient recovering from cancer. The regular check-ups, the extra precautions, the morning walk and the right kind of food have become part and parcel of his life. After being away from work for more than a year and a half, Kumar landed himself a job as a head of the communications department in a leading industrial organisation. Despite the cancer, Kumar is leading as normal a life in office and home. "Some of my colleagues are astonished when they learn I had terminal cancer two years ago," he boasts. He hates if anyone pities him upon learning that he is recovering from cancer. "I know the cancer has cut some years of my life but I want to focus on what I have and live my life to the fullest," he says.