Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
IT’S a sad truth that here in Bahrain (as in practically every country around the world) there are so many people out there in need of funds for medical treatment that we’ve became almost desensitised to their plights.
At least a couple of times a week the papers carry the story of parents pleading for money for a desperately-ill child in need of treatment or an operation.
They’re so regular that most of us read the first few lines out of a morbid curiosity to see what’s wrong with the child before turning the page and forgetting all about it.
Whether it’s because it’s too depressing to read about or whether it’s because we think we have more important things to spend our money on – the next hair cut, a night out with our friends or that new pair of shoes we just have to buy because they’d look great next to the 43 other pairs sitting in row beside the cupboard in the bedroom.
Whatever the reason, only a small number of people find it in their hearts to dig into their pocket.
The sad truth is, more often than not, if it’s not happening to us we are somehow able to convince ourselves that it has nothing to do with us and our consciences are clear to do nothing about it.
I’m as guilty as the next person but this week I’ve decided to do something about it in the hope that this article will make a difference to one little three-year-old boy suffering from leukaemia for the last two years.
Those of you who have been to Señor Paco’s in the last eight years will have come face to face with waiter Kumar Ragunath, as I did a month ago when I celebrated my birthday there.
Never in a thousand years would I have guessed that behind his happy, smiling face and helpful manner he was hiding one of the worst nightmares any parent could imagine. At the age of one, his son K Ragunath was taken to hospital where he was treated for a severe fever and then sent home.
When his condition hadn’t improved three days later he was taken back to the hospital where tests showed that the infant’s haemoglobin count was four, dramatically lower then it should be.
He was then immediately referred to a larger hospital where he was put through three days of tests that resulted in his diagnosis of Acute Lymphoblast Leukaemia – cancer of the blood.
Two years on he’s just celebrated his third and probably last birthday. With a father and mother who have sold the two houses they worked so hard to build, land and every item of jewellery they own for the treatment to save their son’s life, the boy who still desperately needs at least 10 cycles of chemotherapy is running low on hope with little chance of the funds needed being raised.
While the parents are now unable to pay for chemotherapy treatment little K Ragunath is surviving on blood transfusions to try and keep his blood count from getting too low … but that’s like trying to plug a hole in a ship with a cork and can only keep it stable for a short while.
As heart-wrenching a situation as it is for the parents and little boy, it has also had a knock on effect for their eight-year-old daughter who has had to leave school to help mother care for the child.
With little or no education, it’s hard to see how this little girl will make a way for herself in the world as she grows up and just as hard to imagine the effect on her that becoming an only child could have.
I can write about it and I can feel sad for the family that should be planning for a healthy future but it’s hard to truly understand what they must be going through.
The closest I can come to comprehension is the ice cold horror in the pit of my stomach at the thought that, but for the grace of God, the same could happen to my own son. More frightening is the thought that if it was my own son, even with the privilege of earning a higher salary than the Ragunath family, it wouldn’t be more than a month or two before I’d find myself with the same difficulties in trying to keep him alive.
With BD12,000 already spent and another BD12,000 still needed the light at the end of the tunnel for the Ragunath family is still a long way off.
It’s a sobering thought and one each and every one of us should keep in mind.
If you can help, do help … Donations can be sent to B R Kumaravel Murugan’s account at Bahrain Saudi Bank – account number 01 50 80 42 84 100 or ICICI Bank in India – account number 00 04 01 09 78 45. For further details email me at marieclaire@gulfweekly.com
You can never know when you too might need the help of strangers.
