When my father’s brain tumour upturned our lives

By Paramjit Singh

For my 76-year-old father, the process of alienation from the family was slow and painful. He had worked at a public sector undertaking reaching a mid-level position before taking premature retirement.

All through his life, he had been cheerful and energetic. He was the one who would insist on socialising. He loved to meet friends and relatives. He would arrange for get togethers at our home. Our house used to be filled with laughter and happiness. He was, in fact, the life of every party that he attended.

People used to tell me how happy they felt after interacting with him. The mood at home was always relaxed. My father’s friends would troop into our home and he would be more than happy to serve them lunch or dinner. He was gregarious.

But, all that began to gradually change as he entered his 70s. He slowly began to become unusually quiet. We would find him sitting at the dining table and not doing anything. He started having a far-away look.

If we would ask him anything, he began to get irritated. We weren’t used to that. It was odd. But, we felt that this may happening since he was not gainfully employed.

Increasingly, he would snap at things that were harmless. He would not hesitate to get into an argument, even if it had nothing to do with him.

My mother began to feel exasperated. She felt that she was being constantly targeted by him.  She complained on numerous occasions that he would not stop badgering her over something or the other. She wanted me – their only child – to speak to him.

That didn’t work since he snapped at me for something that was completely unrelated to what we were discussing.

On the advice of a family friend, we took him to a doctor who suspected that this abnormal behaviour needs further tests. He referred us to a bigger hospital where a battery of tests were conducted. The tests showed that there was a tumour in his brain.

The attending doctor said that the brain tumour was the probable cause for behavioural change. He recommended an immediate surgery so that the pressure within the brain could be eased.

When my father was informed about the surgery, he flatly refused. He got into an argument with the doctor. It was with much difficultly that he could be pacified.

The doctor felt that once the surgery was done, it would considerably help my father. He, however, added that there were no guarantees.

My mother promptly decided that the surgery was a risk worth taking. She gave the go ahead and we did the paper work.

The surgery was successful and we waited with bated breath outside the ICU to know how he was doing. After a few hours, we were allowed to meet him. When we gingerly walked into the ICU, we were stunned to see him offering a wan smile. It had been ages since we had seen him smile. We were overjoyed.

The tumour in the brain had brought about a personality change. The surgery had practically brought my father back to us.

When he was discharged, we reached home to find that his friends and our relatives were all there to welcome him. It was an uplifting sight.

Days later as we sat talking quietly at the dining table, I remarked how the brain tumour had snatched away my father even though he was physically present in front of me. The surgery had brought back to us my beloved father, whom I had always known to be a person brimming with positivity.

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