part0019

He gave Meher an irritated glance as he removed his helmet and shook sweat off his hair. “This is all your fault, manaivi .”

Meher smiled reassuringly at Avi. “It’s fine, Avi. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Dr. Mascarenhas did not sound upset or anything when we talked on the phone. She just wants to meet us.”

“On a Sunday!” Avi tucked the helmet under his arm and took Meher’s to hang up on the handlebars. “Which doctor calls a patient for an appointment on Sunday?”

“A busy doctor,” Meher replied dryly. “She spends half the month in the US for her FRCS program. We discussed this. And it’s most definitely not my fault.”

Avi almost rolled his eyes as he grabbed Meher’s hand and looked both ways twice before crossing to the other side.

Meher kept her smile inside. She knew Avi wouldn’t appreciate being smiled at, at the moment. He really was nervous and in a bad mood because of it. On the other hand, she wasn’t freaking out anymore. Ever since she had that moment of clarity in the restaurant bathroom when she got her period, Meher had become calmer…more centered. She wasn’t as upset over the little things anymore.

She didn’t know why, if she was being honest with herself. It wasn’t as if Avi’s parents had suddenly changed their attitudes or even that Avi had turned over a new leaf or something. He was still forgetful more often than not. And her mother-in-law had wanted her to wear a sari to go to the temple today morning, on the one day she got to sleep in.

Meher minded, of course, hanging with the gang at a stranger’s wedding was infinitely more appealing but between the temple and her appointment, it was a no-go for them, but not as much as she would have last week. She was more philosophical about a lot of things now, including work. Whatever was meant to happen would happen, she wasn’t going to sweat over it anymore if she could help it.

She was going to try and remember that Avi loved her and was her champion. That she was trying her hardest at work and with the best intentions. That Avi’s parents were their own people with their own prejudices and she was trying hard with them too.

Nothing else mattered, not really.

“You’re smiling,” Avi accused her, as they entered the building. “Why are you smiling? Do you know something I don’t, Meher?” He looked hunted for a second. “Is the doctor calling us in to give us good news?”

Meher shook her head, exasperated, reminding herself of her resolution only two minutes ago. “No, pa . I got my period last week, remember? I can’t be pregnant if I got my period.”

They walked through the well-lit and smartly furnished lobby.

“That’s not true,” Avi insisted. “I was reading those articles you shared with me last month and sometimes, pregnancy symptoms are masked by regular cycles. It is not unheard of.”

Meher beamed as Avi punched the lift up button. “Oh, you read all those articles, did you? I’m so proud of you, Avi.”

Avi continued glaring at her, wiping sweat off his temples. She looked around, the place was completely deserted. Even the watchman on duty seemed to have disappeared. Meher reached up and kissed Avi’s cheek.

“Everything’s fine, I promise. Don’t worry.”

Avi shrugged. “I’m not worried. What do I have to worry about?”

She held his hand tightly, squeezing it for reassurance. “Exactly.”

The lift opened and they got in. The ride to the third floor clinic was accomplished in utter silence.

Dr. Mascarenhas’ clinic was a long room with marble benches, indoor potted plants and a four feet tall bamboo Feng Shui waterfall in the middle of the room. Unlike other gynae clinics, there were no happy pictures of babies’ with cute bums sticking up in the air or quotes on motherhood.

Instead, one wall had a picture of an anatomically correct vagina with the parts labelled in neon. Avi had been horrified when he’d first seen the photo, Meher was delighted. The rest of the room was taken up by pictures of happy women of all sizes and shapes and colors with quotes like, “Your Breasts Need Attention Too ,” “Your Ovaries Are Your Business ,” “Why Abortion Might Be Right For You ,” and Meher’s personal favorite: “Talk To Your Gynaec About Colon Issues .”

Dr. Mascarenhas was exactly the kind of woman she wanted looking at ‘her’. She wouldn’t judge and she wouldn’t be critical.

Two of the other gynaecologist’s she’d visited had been horrified to learn she was Muslim while her husband was not. They weren’t overtly disapproving but Meher knew from years of experience of seeing how people reacted to her and Avi together that these medical practitioners would not have her sexual well-being in mind when they performed their medical exams.

One doctor had even gone so far as to suggest never having kids because of their ‘issues.’ Like which god they prayed to, was an impediment to childbirth.

But Milli Mascarenhas wasn’t like that. She was kind and inclusive and she’d even won Avi over when she’d told him his taller than average Indian male height meant his equipment was extra-tall. It was a total lie, of course, but Avi had stopped being nervous from then on with the doctor, when he accompanied Meher on her visits.

Dr. Mascarenhas was also a huge fan of contraception, even providing free condoms each visit from a huge glass bowl she kept on her table, in full view of patients and staff.

Needless to say, Dr. Mascarenhas got a lot of flak from right wing groups and women’s prochoice groups. The media had done a few stories on her (take down pieces and glowing profiles), which were also framed on the walls of the clinic. The staff was gender-neutral, with a transperson sitting at reception.

Meher walked to reception. “Mrs. Meher Sreedhar here for my three pm appointment.”

Jwala, the receptionist smiled at Meher. They wore the same shade of lipgloss Meher had on. “Welcome back, Meher. The doctor’s in with someone. Can you take a seat, please?”

Meher nodded and wandered back to Avi. He was where he usually was, at the water fountain, smack dab in the middle of the room. Well, away from the encouraging and informative posters on the wall.

“The doctor’s with a patient. We just have to wait a little bit. Okay?”

“Sure.” Avi nodded at the waterfall. It made a tinkling sound as the water poured into the bowl base. “Why is this in the middle of the room?”

“Dr. Mascarenhas said in one of her interviews that the water fountain placed in the southwest corner promoted fertility but if placed in a neutral corner celebrated sexuality.”

Avi pursed his lips. “Can you lower your voice?”

Meher winked. “Why? Because I said sexuality?”

Avi reddened. “Meher.”

“Avi.” She stopped teasing him. “You’re so bold and brave in the bedroom but the minute we step out you’re this sexist muttallu ashamed to say the S-word. How did I ever marry you?”

“Because you used to be like me,” Avi retorted. “Then you met this doctor and now you want multiple orgasms on demand.”

Meher shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s my right too, isn’t it?”

Avi looked around and then leaned down to whisper in her ear, “It’s entirely my pleasure, manaivi .”

Meher blushed. “Avi.”

Now, it was his turn to grin. “It’s not great being embarrassed in public, is it?”

Meher was saved the effort of answering when Jwala called out her name.

Mili Mascarenhas was in her late forties, with a haircut much the same as Anu. Her pride wall reflected the multiple degrees, certificates, and accolades she’d collected in her medical career. She rose up from her seat and shook hands with Meher and Avi before indicating them to sit down in the comfy chairs opposite her table.

“I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”

“No, doctor,” Avi said.

“You look well, Meher. Those vitamin supplements working out well for you?” she asked warmly.

Meher nodded. “And that organic chyavanpraash you suggested too. I feel so much more energized with two spoons of that than I did after eating entire meals, doctor.”

“Excellent. And Avi, you’re exercising regularly?”

Avi smiled broadly. “As often as work permits, doctor. Thank you for asking.”

Mili shook her head indulgently. “How is that men get to use work as an excuse to get out of things but when women do it we are labeled workaholics?”

“Hypocrisy?” Meher suggested sweetly.

Avi looked affronted. “I wasn’t…”

Mili held up a hand. “I know, I know, Avi. I was messing with you.”

Avi subsided.

Mili shuffled papers on her desk and picked one out from an envelope. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? I’m sure you don’t want to spend Sunday afternoon talking to your gynecologist.”

“Its fine, doctor.”

Mili scanned the paper in hand before she said, “So, we have done an extensive array of tests on both you and Avi, Meher. And, this, coupled with the detailed medical histories you helpfully provided has given me a better understanding of the situation.”

“Okay…” Meher trailed off. She wasn’t exactly alarmed, but how could all the many, many test results be present in one piece of paper?

“Your sperm count and motility is absolutely fine, Avi. Well within expected ranges. Since you also don’t smoke or drink, it won’t cause additional physiological problems when you begin trying.”

“Thanks, doctor.”

Mil looked at Meher. “You already know your uterus is in functioning order, Meher. The ovaries are also fine as well as the fallopian tubes. Your cervix is a little on the narrower side but nothing that can’t be fixed with the power yoga I hope you’re doing regularly.”

Meher nodded rapidly. “I am, doctor. Everyday almost at the same time.”

“Excellent. Now…” Mili held up the paper she held. “I was looking through your family medical history and I noticed that your maternal grandmother and your aunt had breast cancer.”

“Yes,” Meher agreed. “My grandma’s was never detected and she passed away before it could be treated.” She was still so angry with her Ummi, for not taking her gandma to the right doctor when she’d complained of chest pains. “But my chitti , mom’s sister, she tested herself regularly and was able to take care of the lump in her left breast with medication.”

“Yes. And your mother…”

“Still won’t even get tested,” Meher admitted.

“I see.” Mili nodded. “What do you know of the BRCA-1 gene mutation syndrome, Meher?”

“Nothing?” Meher replied. “What is it, doctor?” And do I have it?

“The BRCA-1 gene mutation,” Mili said the word as ‘braca’, “Is a type of early test that can be used to determine if a woman is at risk for breast cancer. The ideal age to start looking at testing for the gene is after 25.”

“I…don’t understand, doctor.”

“Seeing as both your grandmom and your aunt have suffered from it, I ordered for you to be tested too, Meher,” Mili said. “The likelihood of direct descendants to have the gene is 13% higher than ones who don’t. I didn’t want to alarm you before the tests came back and I could see the result for myself if you were a potential breast cancer candidate.”

Avi sat up straighter in his chair. “What are you saying, doctor?”

Mili smiled kindly at Meher, with a hint of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Meher. But you tested positively for the BRCA-1 gene mutation.”

“What?” Avi exploded. “Are you telling me my Meher has breast cancer?”

Meher squeezed his hand, while she processed what the doctor had just revealed. “Avi, no…”

The doctor shook her head. “No! Absolutely not, Avi. I’m saying that since she tested positive for the gene mutation, there is a 50% likelihood that Meher might contract breast cancer in the future. A long way in the future. And because we caught it so early, we will now monitor her carefully, catch it as soon as possible if it ever makes an appearance and make sure Meher’s health and safety are never compromised as a result.”

Meher heard the words through a tunnel. She was still focused on the words: breast cancer candidate.

“I don’t understand, doctor,” Avi growled. “Please, explain clearly what’s going on with my wife.” It was an order.

“Well, since you are already exploring the possibility of having children, I would suggest you have a serious conversation about it and come to a decision.”

“Why?” Avi asked, bewildered.

“Because,” Meher answered for the doctor. “If I am a candidate, it could strike me at any time and reduce my chances of getting pregnant at a later date. Right, doctor?”

Mili nodded. “Yes. You’re right. You’re young and healthy and in peak physical health right now.” Meaning, at some point, Meher might not be. “And, of course, there are so many options to consider even otherwise. Egg freezing, surrogacy, adoption even, depending on how and your partner and your families feel about it. But now would be an ideal time to…ramp up discussion,” she ended gently.

“I…” Avi looked blankly at the doctor. “Meher can’t get cancer,” he said. “Meher does yoga and makes us buy organic everything. She is even considering quitting meat because it might affect her physiology and…she just can’t.”

Meher heard Avi’s anguish but couldn’t relate to it. She was still standing in the middle of the black tunnel and the world was a kilometer away. Even her Avi.

“Okay, so eating meat or quitting it doesn’t affect the chances of a healthy pregnancy, Avi. And having organic food is one way of ensuring harmful carcinogens don’t enter our system but…this is a genetic mutation, you see,” Mili said. “You can’t avoid genetics.”

“Why not?” Avi bristled. “Why not? With all the advances modern medicine has made, why the hell haven’t we found a cure for cancer yet? What are you even talking about, doctor? And did you even ask Meher’s permission before ordering this test? How legitimate is it? Can we do it again? What if it’s a false positive?”

Avi kept asking questions, unbelieving, devastated while Meher sat still as a statue. For some reason, she kept picturing the Feng Shui bamboo waterfall in her mind. The steady drip-drip of water was soothing to hear.

“Meher?” The doctor said loudly.

Avi shook Meher’s hand. “Meher, the doctor’s calling you.” His voice was rusty, his eyes red.

“Yes, doctor?” Meher spoke calmly.

“What would you like to do, Meher?”

“Do I need to make a decision, right now?”

Mili shook her head. “Of course, not. You have time. Lots of time. I’ll email you all the information, options and courses of treatment going forward and you can talk it over with Avi at your convenience and we can meet when you are ready.”

“Then, I’d like to go home,” Meher said firmly.

“Are you okay?” Avi asked Meher quietly.

Meher didn’t answer him.

It had been four days since the doctor visit, they’d both gone over the information Dr. Mascarenhas had shared, individually and together. Most of it was straightforward, not scary, but some of it was…Apparently, sometimes, the risk to the candidate was so severe that doctors in America preferred a course of treatment where they radiated the ovaries in advance and rendered the womb infertile.

Avi was devastated, Meher could feel it. She could sense it in his touch, in the careful way he spoke to her and she really was touched. It was wonderful to know, to be given solid proof, of how loved she was.

Even Anu and Shashi were hovering over her while giving her space to sort through her emotions. In fact, they were here tonight, with her, while she told her parents about the positive result. She hadn’t asked them to be, but there they were.

And Charlie was going to drop in for dinner later. Avi needed support too. He was such a rock for her.

Because she was …numb, Meher acknowledged to herself. She wasn’t okay, wasn’t destroyed…she was numb. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She was a normal, healthy, vital young woman who did forty minutes of power yoga and Kegels exercises every damn day, regardless of weather or time.

She took care of herself.

How could a freak act of genetics destroy all of that completely?

“Meher.” Anu touched her shoulder. “Okayaa ?”

Meher gripped her phone tighter in her hand and said, “Let’s make the call.” She pressed the call button and waited for her mom to pick up.

Her mom picked up in two rings and came on-screen Meher felt the first wave of tears hit her like a sudden punch.

“Why aren’t you wearing your nose ring?” Arifa Raghuman asked, as a conversation opener.

“I’ve kept it for washing,” Meher said. She felt Avi’s hand on her shoulder while Anu and Shashi hovered next to her, out of screen but close enough that she could feel them. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. How else will I be?” Arifa continued in rapid-fire Tamil. “Your Abba’s got a cold that he refuses to go to the doctor for. He wants me to make him turmeric milk every two hours because he doesn’t trust doctors after that heart problem.”

“Heart attack,” Meher couldn’t help correcting her. “Abba had a heart attack, Ummi. He should go see a doctor if he has a persistent cold.”

“You know how your father is. When has he ever listened to me?” Arifa frowned. “For that matter, when have you? But why would you? You learned it from him and your grandmother, god rest her soul, to never pay any attention to me.”

“UMMI!” Meher gritted it out. “I called you to talk about something important.”

“Are you expecting, kanni ?” Arifa smiled, joy radiating from a face wreathed in wrinkles.

Once upon a time, Arifa had been gorgeous, traits she’d passed on to her daughters. But constantly making do and cooking, cleaning and keeping house for a man who did not appreciate her had leached most of the gorgeous out of her. Now she looked old.

Meher shook her head. Avi chose that moment to show his face. “Hello, Ummi. You look beautiful as always. Did you enjoy that Tamil movie DVD I sent you?”

Arifa stopped smiling, becoming instantly guarded. “Avi. Yes, I did. MGR movies are evergreen. Hope you are okay, too. And your parents are well?”

“Yes. They’re here.” Avi grinned. “Creating extra work for your daughter.”

Meher elbowed Avi hard in his stomach and he rubbed his belly. She also shoved him out of the screen.

He sat down on the bed with a thump, glaring at her. “What?” he asked. “What did I say?”

“Avi, be quiet,” Shashi ordered. She gave Meher an encouraging smile.

Meher nodded and turned back to her mother. “Sorry, Ummi. No, I’m not pregnant.”

“Yet,” Arifa said confidently. “If you eat those herbs I sent you and sleep in the northwest position like I told you you will…”

“Ummi, listen. I didn’t call to discuss tips on getting pregnant. I went to the doctor and she told me something important.”

“What?” Arifa chopped vegetables with efficiency while talking to Meher.

Meher could see her home kitchen, the one where Ummi made omelets every Sunday unfailingly, or where all the ladies in her family gathered to celebrate Eidi and to watch Rajni movies. Her grandmother and aunt had come too, years ago. Tears came again, and one slipped out before she could stop it.

“Meher?” Arifa prompted her. “What is it? I want to finish cooking and go watch my TV.”

“I…” Meher closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I went to the doctor when she called me in for an emergency appointment. She told me she’d looked into our family’s medical history and saw that grandma and auntie had breast cancer. She asked me if you got checked.”

“Why is your doctor asking about me? I’m not the one not getting pregnant,” Arifa was indignant.

Anu sat next to her, out of screen, tightly holding her hand. Meher squeezed her hand back even though she felt so cold and alone. “Yes, I know. But she wanted to test me for a gene mutation that could raise the risks of me contracting the cancer.”

“WHAT?” Arifa was aghast. “Do you have cancer? WHAT?”

Meher shook her head and looked tearily at her mother. “Ummi, no. I don’t…I.”

Blessedly, Anu took the screen from her and said, “Arifa Aunty, it’s me Anu. I can explain everything to you. We have nothing to worry about. Please listen to me.”

Meher sat, frozen, while Anu broke down the BRCA gene mutation syndrome as simply as she could without freaking her mother out. How they were two strains of the gene called one and two and having the first one indicated higher chances of being a potential cancer candidate in the future. Somehow, hearing Anu talk about it made it real…real in a way it hadn’t been when Dr. Mascarenhas had informed her.

Anu was her friend. She was a doctor and she was saying these things so that must mean they were true. A freak act of genetics had managed to destroy her future. Just, end it before it ever began.

Meher let out a small sob. Her shoulders shuddered.

Avi looked alarmed. Shashi immediately came to her side, squeezed her shoulders tight.

Anu said, “Aunty, Meher will talk to you very soon. There is absolutely nothing to worry about, yet. We still have lots of tests to do. I’ll keep the phone now, okay?”

Arifa was still talking when Anu unceremoniously cut the call.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Meher said tearfully. “Ummi will never forgive you for it.”

“She will. We sidechat about hot Tamil soap opera heroes all the time.” Anu gave Avi a kind look. “Avi, would you…” She indicated the door.

“But, naa …”

“Please,” Anu said. “Meher needs to talk to us alone.”

Avi knelt down in front of Meher, took her cold hands in his and his eyes were red again. He looked like she felt. Hopeless and devastated. “Is that what you want, Meher? Do you want me to go?”

And Meher knew he would stay. No matter what Anu said or did, Avi would do as she asked. He would stay if she needed him. But the thing was, if he did stay then she would have to be strong for him. She would have to hold it together for him. He would be destroyed if he saw how truly upset she was. She couldn’t handle the burden of making sure Avi was okay. Not today.

This wasn’t just a bad period pain, this was a major illness. One she didn’t have yet.

Summa iru , she hissed at her common sense.

So, Meher said nothing. She just stared down at the man in a polo tee shirt and full pants in his own home.

The fight went out of Avi’s eyes. He nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave.” He squeezed her hand tightly so her engagement ring bit into her skin. “But I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Meher nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She waited till Avi left, closing the door gently behind him. Then she looked at Anu’s gently sympathetic face and let out a sob.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Shashi hugged her tightly, while Anu rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Nothing,” both of them whispered. “Onnum illai .”

And Meher broke down in great sobs of grief and sadness and anger and sheer helplessness and fear.

A long time later, Anu placed two pieces of cold cucumber on Meher’s puffy eyes while Shashi bit into one. They were lying crosswise on the big bed in Meher and Avi’s room. A plate of half-eaten French fries was in the middle. At some point during Meher’s meltdown, Avi had silently handed Anu the plate.

“There, that looks better,” she observed.

“I feel like hell,” Meher said. “And I’m sorry for crying all over the both of you.”

Shashi turned and took one cucumber piece from Meher’s eyes. “It’s okay. We love you.”

Meher sniffed as the stupid tears threatened again. “Ummi wont even think about getting tested. How am I supposed to focus on my well-being if I am constantly worried about her?”

Anu took her hand and said, “You can’t worry about Arifa aunty and not take care of yourself. You have to take care of yourself. We have a chance to treat this thing, a miraculous chance. You can’t give it up.”

“I’m not…”

Shashi sat up. “Hey, let’s not do the lecture right now. Meher needs a friend, not a doctor.”

Anu gave her a hurt look. “I wasn’t…what’s wrong in wanting to see Meher be okay? Don’t you want that too?”

Shashi matched her hurt look with indignation. “Of course, I do. I’m just saying, we can talk about it later. Right now, Meher needs to rest. This is a traumatic experience for her and we don’t need to make it worse.”

Anu threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m sorry I’m a doctor and I have practical information that can help our friend and which she will trust. And what traumatic experience do you have that you’re being so wise?”

Shashi raised one eyebrow. “Really? You’re asking me about traumatic experiences, Anu?”

Meher sat up, and the cucumber pieces fell from her eyes. She glared at her two best friends. “Will you two shut up? I’m getting a headache hearing you fight and I’m the one with the potential cancer-getting gene. I don’t need a headache too.”

“Yeah, well. Then tell her she is wrong,” Anu snarled, pointing at Shashi.

Meher said, “You’re both wrong. You’re both muttaalgal and you’re both wrong.”

Shashi’s jaw dropped. “What…but I…I was…”

Meher crunched on a cucumber, feeling so much better now that the crying jag was over and her friends were treating her normally. No one was wailing or weeping or going on about getting pregnant now …and she was immensely grateful for that.

“Yes. Anu is a doctor, her first instinct is to help any patient. And she’s very good at her job. It’s not easy to switch that off, is it?”

Anu shook her head, lips trembling.

Meher turned to Shashi. “You’re the best friend I can ask for. You’re loyal and fierce and even though your plans are stupid and outrageous I still want you here right now. Because you know me and what I want before I know it myself.”

Shashi worried the bedspread and refused to meet Meher’s eyes. “I was just trying to help,” she muttered.

“So was I,” Anu said.

“You two are such actresses,” Meher muttered. Then she tugged them close to each other and, inch by inch, they put their arms around each other and Meher. A close bundle of arms and legs and hair.

And it became easy to breathe, to put things in perspective, to understand what she had to do. Because she had the girls and she had Avi. And Charlie, for whatever that was worth. And with them in her life, she could do anything.

“I can’t survive without both of you. And I’m going to survive, okay?”

Shashi sniffed and it was Anu who answered, “Okay.”