Day of Uncertainty: Asma's Very First Surgery

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh,

Exactly three years ago, Asma underwent her very first (major) surgery.

It was probably one of the most stressful days during Amsa's battle with cancer. Subhana'Allah, I really dont think I can handle the amount of stress and uncertainty (that we went through) all over again.

Her surgery was on Tuesday, October 3rd, 2002. We had been preparing for this day for a several weeks. However, as each day went by, the closer we got to the date, the feeling of uncertainty grew. We were nervous...scared...we dreaded this day.

The week before the surgery, we met up with the surgeon. Everytime we went to the hospital, his office, it felt eerie.

Whenever we went to his office, we would always try to anticipate what would happen next. No one knew what the doctor would say next.

Anyways, the doctor examined Asma's tumor and told us that although the chemotherapy seemed to work (judging by how her tumor was fluid-like in the x-rays), he never dealt with such a massive-sized tumor.

Asma's tumor was HUGE. I mean HUGE. If I were to describe it, I would say it looked like a football or a soccer ball inside her leg where her knee was. Subhana'Allah, I cant even begin to imagine what she felt like. What a brave girl she was.

Her tumor was at such a place that it made her immobile. Ever since she was dianosed, she never was able to walk again.

Anyhow, the surgeon asked a question that basically ripped our hearts out.

Asma was sitting on the bench (the ones that the patient sits on in the doctors office). My parents and I were sitting on the chairs; my mom on the far right, my dad in the middle while I sat on the far left. The surgeon was sitting on his stool across the room.

He asked, "If I go in and see that I cant do it, should I close it back up or amputate her leg?"

The reason he said that was because since the tumor was massive in size, he didnt know if he would be able to operate and remove the tumor. When he asked us that, Asma started to cry and said, "Meri zindhigi kharab ho gaye. Meri life khatab ho gaye." ("My life is ruined. My life is done.")

My mom started to cry to at this point. My father, even though he wanted to cry, just sat there motionless, expressionless.

He then told the surgeon to close it back up and to allow us to think for our next option.

He agreed and we then went home.

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Comes next week. It was Monday night. I was at school, in class. I wasnt even able to do anything. I couldnt concentrate. I was shaking. I was nervous. I wanted to cry. Asma was in my head the whole time.

If I was feeling like that, imagine how Asma and my parents felt. Subahna'Allah, they are so brave.

After class, I spoke to my friend. He just gave me words of support and told me to hang in there and have faith in Allah Subhanawatalaa. Alhamdulillah. May Allah reward him. Ameen.

I went home. Nobody is really saying much. What do we say? What can we say?

Asma knows whats going on. Shes watching television. Shes anxious, yet scared. Shes anxious because she wants to get rid of her tumor and become "normal" again. Yet, she was scared because didnt know what would happen.

It was getting late. My mom packed her stuff for her her stay at the hospital with Asma. She packed her clothes and other belongings along with Asma's clothes.

We had to make sure Asma had stopped eating and drinking (even water) after midnight.

We went to sleep (or atleast tried to).

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It was morning. I think it was my mom who woke me up. Either her or my dad. Anyways, it was almost 5 AM. We got ready. Asma woke up. Even though she didnt say anything, we knew she was scared. I could tell she was. Subhana'Allah I just wanted to hold and tell her everything will be ok.

She got dressed and I carried her into the van. It was just my parents, Asma, and myself. I went in a separate car. I followed my dad.

It was a really eerie feeling. It was still dark out. The temperature was cool and the air was crisp. You could hear the winds howling. The streets were empty.

Soon, we got there. We dropped my mother and Asma off. Asma was sitting in her wheel chair. She was quiet. Didnt say anything. She had her head down with her little blanket over her lap.

I parked the cars while my parents and Asma waited.

We went inside to the registration booth. We checked in. As we did, we saw something which depressed us even more. We saw a man in a wheel chair with one leg missing. Subhana'Allah, thats what we feared for Asma. Ironic, isnt it?

We completed the registration process. We then were headed towards the room where Asma had to undress and change into the hospital gown. I was told to go to the waiting area.

I said Salaam to Asma and I hugged and kissed her and told her Insha'Allah I will see her later. I didnt want to leave her. :'( I left and went to the Smith Lounge (name of the waiting area). Thats where I prayed Fajr.

Since Asma was young, they allowed my parents to stay with her until she changed clothes. After she did that, the nurses were there to take her away and into the operating room. I think they already started to give her Anesthesia.

My parents told me that Asma was crying so much...she was weeping and didnt want to let my parents go. She was begging them. However, they had no choice but to let her go. :'(

My parents slowly walked over to the waiting area where I was. My dad was pushing Asma's wheelchair and her belongings while my mom was walking next to him. They both were crying.

We got a private room in the waiting area. We prayed. We made dua'a. We did everything.

We were waiting anxiously. We were told that we would get a phone call (we had a phone inside the private room) from the Nurse informing us of the situation (whether they can remove it or not).

We were just talking to each other. We didnt have our appetites. We had lost the desire to do anything. We just constantly made dua'a and prayed and comforted each other.

The phone rang. Oh my god...the moment of truth...

We looked at each other. We were speechless. Scared. Nervous.

We all simultaneously said, its the nurse.

My dad answered the phone. It was dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop.

My mom and I were patiently waiting for some (good) news.

Then it happened...

The nurse said, "Mr. Haq, the tumor is out!"

My dad, with a huge smile and a sigh of relief gave a thumbs up. He hung up on the phone and stood up.

He looked at us...told us its out and they are finishing up the surgery.

Allahu Akbar... never felt that great before.

My parents started to weep. They were crying...and crying...and crying...

My dad hugged my mom and wept.

He then came to me and we hugged.

Subhana'Allah.

We then had to wait until Asma was in the recovery room. They only allowed the parents to go in. So I had to wait there in the waiting area. Subhana'Allah, that time seemed forever. I watned to just meet Asma and smile and kiss her.

Shortly after, I went in. There she was...wearing the green hospital gown. She was very puffy from the drugs she had recieved. Asma even joked about that. LOL Subhana'Allah, she had a sense of humor even during the most trying times.

Her leg was straight after several months. Prior to her surgery, her leg was always in a 90 degree angle. Imagine ur leg that way for many, many months. Im telling you, Asma was such a brave, strong girl.

Subhana'Allah, the feeling of joy that we had is somethjng I cannot describe.

I later on asked Asma what was her first reaction after the surgery when she woke up. What did she do? Think of?

Asma said, "When I woke up, I was afraid to look down because I didnt know if I had my leg or not. So I just tried to feel it with my hand. When I touched my leg, I was so happy and I knew I had my leg."

Asma was laughing when she said that.

After a few days at the hospital Asma came home. She was very excited as we were all. Subhana'Allah.

When I think back, the time of the surgery was very joyous because we were on our path to the recovery. We thought we "won." I mean, the pathology report indicated 99.9% of the cancer was dead. The surgeon even showed my parents the actual tumor. My parents describe it as one of the most horrifying experience. Subhana'Allah.

However, now that think I about it, that exprience almost seems more like an illusion more than anything. Even when it does seem real, its overshadowed by the fact that shes gone.

I really miss her. I wish she was here. I wish I can kiss her.

Man, I feel like crying. :'(

May Allah Subhanawatalaa elevate her status in Jannah to the highest level. Ameen.
May Allah Subhanawatalaa reunite us with her in the Akirah. Ameen.
May Allah Subhanawatalaa reward my parents for their sabr and faith in Allah. Ameen.

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh.