Chapter 25: - Coping Together.

Unexpectedly and outrageously alarming, is how I would describe these past six days of our stay in Rochester. From landing here to the time of his initial examination, everything became dreadful when he started vomiting and developed a sudden weakness in his forearms.

However Dr. Mittal assured us that it's just due to sudden increase in his intracranial pressure (pressure inside the brain) and it is expected in patients of brain tumour.

Thankfully, it is manageable and Armaan is responding well to medicines. But that also means that the tumour has involved the nerves supplying his arms, just as they had feared.

We had planned to tour for a day or two to make him feel relax but every plan had to be dropped since he was rushed into the hospital in an emergency and had been simply sleeping all day. His condition was prostrate.

His parents were devastated but they somehow hid it in front of him. For the time he wakes up, we all smile and laugh but I know how vacant our laughter is and I know Armaan can discern everything and is trying to show himself just fine. Everyone is faking smiles just to make the other one feel better but in real all are breaking from inside bit by bit.

Just as the day of the surgery is nearing the dread is increasing. It's rightly said, you cannot understand the emotions until you feel them yourself and I could never fathom this gut- wrenching feeling that is making home in my heart, until I saw him, attached with tubes and surrounded by wires.

It takes everything in me, to not cry in front of him, watching him suppressing his pain when his hand was punctured to start his medicines.

He could feel nothing.

His pain sensations were lost.

And this was just the beginning.

His eyes screams his pain, his helplessness and all he wants, is to run home, away from all this but he's here, just because he promised me, to get operated.

Please let my hope win Jesus!!

"Now move your pupils in the direction of light. Slowly. Okay relax." The ophthalmologist Dr. Peter examined Armaan's eyes thoroughly to give the final pre-operative report to his attending neurosurgeon.

Picking up the file kept aside, he went through his reports and shut them after a while. He smiled at me and it was somewhere relaxing in this tensed up situation. I peered at Armaan who was simply lying down with his eyes closed.

"Well his reports are good. The tumour has not yet involved his optic nerve." The good doctor informed us and my eyes lit up in happiness. Armaan opened his eyes and I could see relief flickering in those orbs.

"So does it mean that his sight can be preserved?" I asked just to be double sure of what I heard.

"For now yes. But things may change during surgery while resecting the tumour and what I can say on the basis of his eye examination is, the vision problems would not be major post surgery and can be handled. So just cheer up young man, you'll be able to see the world just as bright."

Armaan looked at me with a small smile as the doctor left, patting his shoulder. This news was a comforting prospect for us after seeing him all these days in a painful condition.

"Armaan I'm so happy. Your vision, speech and even your cognitive functions are preserved. The doctors are really hopeful." We need to just think about all the positive things right now and I can't let my gloominess hamper his progress. I've to be happy, for him.

He sighed and his eyes wavered from my face to his arm and I knew that look. His arms will be majorly affected while nothing can be said about his legs, at this moment.

"Armaan, doctors also said that your arms will hopefully function normally after neurotherapy and you are strictly asked not to dwell on the negative outcomes. Be positive. Everything will be fine." I added optimistically.

"Only if I survive the surgery. Remember this." He whispered back instantly and firmly. I sighed. He hadn't left any chance to not remind me this. In his defence, he is just trying to make me strong if anything opposite to what we all wish happens.

If he doesn't survive the surgery?

My body shudders at this mere thought. ‘Don't overthink! Don't overthink!’ I chanted in my mind to not let any negativity overpower me. I can't let my faith loose in Almighty.

"And you will. That's my trust."

We breathed silence which slithered between us with it's unwanted presence.

"I want to live Talwar, with you." He mumbled melancholically and I could feel a knife twisting in my heart.

I wish I could take away this hopelessness from his eyes and light them with joy. His twinkling eyes and innocent smile is for which I live and could die for.

"You will." I tried sounding affirmed. He will. He has to.

"Don't cry now. I can't wipe your tears." He motioned towards my wet cheeks and his lips were pressed.

"Okay then, I'll cry the day you'll be able to wipe them. Promise me, you will?" I asked wiping my cheeks.

"Promise." He blinked his eyes at me.

"Can we come inside?" Mrs. Malik peeked her head inside with her eyes covered and asked cutely. It made us chuckle. She is one of the strongest woman I've met. Her willpower is inspiring.

"Well we brought dinner. Our last dinner together with your favourite food before you go for the surgery." She informed while taking out the cutleries.

Our last dinner, together, before his surgery. He isn't allowed to take anything solid from tomorrow as his surgery is scheduled for tomorrow evening.

We all sat in the circle and she made him had his favourite lasagna first, followed by Mr. Malik and then me. We all made him had his dinner. In between Mr. Malik made us have few bites saying they are from Armaan's side. We all chuckled. He is so cute.

Hearing him, Armaan looked at me and I knew what he meant. I made the next bite for Mr. Malik and he first looked at Armaan who whispered, "From my side." I did the same with Mrs. Malik.

A lump formed in my throat and I tried blinking my tears away, seeing a happy family stealing these moments of bliss in this situation full of uncertainty. I pray nobody has to ever face this harrowing situation.

The clock ticked laggardly and I felt the night was longer. The darkness felt too suffocating. Nobody slept. Nobody could sleep but stare at his peaceful face, free of any pain.

"Everything will be okay right?" Mrs. Malik whispered, too loud for the killing silence that we were breathing in. My eyes moved towards Mr. Malik who sat stoned but his restraints were breaking. He couldn't come and console his wife for the first time.

I clutched my top in a fist trying to suppress this agonizing feeling of helplessness. I am unable to do anything for his parents who are dying each moment seeing their son treading closer to death.

"Mrs. Malik, you know what Armaan had promised me ? He promised that he'll recover soon and wipe all our tears. He even asked me to forward his request to you, to hold onto your tears till he is unable to wipe them. We can do this for him. Mr. Malik, you tell me , has he ever broken his promise?" I crouched down near Mrs. Malik taking her hands in mine. Mr. Malik shook his head with a small smile, lifting our spirits.

"That's all, how can we deny his small request?" I asked her, clearing her face and she acceded caressing my head.

"I'll hold onto every hope Khwaab."

"I think you both should go home. It's four in the morning. Take rest and come back soon. Till then Armaan would wake up too."

I could see they were hesitant but then they won't be able to sit for the whole day. Caressing his head they both left.