The Hands That Heal: My Journey in Palliative Care

The Hands That Heal: My Journey in Palliative Care

– Ms Deepika Suryavanshi, Bilaspur

My journey in nursing began at Jan Swasthya Sahyog, Ganyari, Bilaspur, where I completed my GNM nursing studies. After finishing my course in 2022, I was posted in the surgical OPD, and was dedicated to attending patients with care and compassion. Life however had something more profound in store for me- something that would not just change how I treated patients, but something that would impact how I understood suffering, resilience, and the power of human connection.

One day, Dr. Sharon V (Senior Resident, General Surgery, Jan Swasthya Sahyog, Ganiyari, Bilaspur) asked me if I wanted to learn about palliative care. I was curious but unaware of how deeply this decision would shape me. Together with Dr. Sharon and my colleague, Ms Maheshwari, I enrolled in the Certificate Course in the Essentials of Palliative Care course offered by the IAPC. Until then, I had always attended to cancer patients with the warmth of a nurse. The course opened my eyes to something beyond just medical care-it taught me to see pain in its entirety and to embrace patients not just as cases, but as individuals carrying immense burdens, fears, and hopes.

In our hospital, we see many cancer patients- each with a story, each fighting silent battles that go beyond the physical realm. Through the course, I learnt how to listen- not just to their words but even to their silence. I learned how to comfort their families, how to communicate in a way that would ease their suffering, and how to provide care that went beyond medicine. I understood that cancer did not just affect the body, but that it crushes the spirit, it isolates, and it creates wounds that no surgery can heal. I also realized that care, support, and love can be powerful remedies in themselves.

One patient I will never forget was Mr Bhushan Singh (name changed), a 61-year- old man from Madhya Pradesh. Dada (Mr Singh) had advanced oral cancer- his cheek had an open wound, his jawbone exposed, and his skin had begun to slough off. The pain must have been unimaginable, but what struck me most was the unwavering devotion of Dadi, his wife. A fragile and elderly woman, Dadi, stood by his side, holding his hand, carrying his pain as her own.

The first time I went to dress his wound, the foul smell and the sight of maggots took my breath away. My body froze for a moment, but then I saw Dada writhing in pain. That pain overpowered my hesitation. I began his dressing, removing the maggots one by one, not just to clean his wound but to bring him some relief. The next day, he was still in pain, and we started him on morphine. Slowly, he began to rest, to find comfort in moments that had been filled with suffering.

Four times a day, we repeated the dressings. Each time, I removed 20-25 maggots, mixed with both horror and determination. Day by day, we saw a change- not just in his wounds but in his spirit as well. He could finally sit up, talk to others, and even smile a little. On the day of his discharge, Dadi looked at me with tear-filled eyes. She held my hands tightly, her fingers trembling, and said “बेटी तोर सेवा करे ले मोर पतत बस का नही महू ला बढ़िया लागिसे” (Your care has given me relief, not just my husband). She wept, and I felt the weight of her gratitude, of her pain, of her journey.

That moment changed me. I understood, truly, what palliative care meant. Palliative care is not just about medicines or procedures- it is also about being there. Palliative care involves understanding pain beyond the physical, recognizing the social and emotional turmoil that a disease brings, and providing a kind of healing that no prescription can offer. Patients like Dada taught me resilience. They taught me the importance of touch, of listening, of simply being present.

I have learnt that while medicine eases physical pain, only care, support, and empathy can support and heal the mind and spirit. Today, when I walk into our palliative care OPD and the chemo ward, I do not just see patients- I see fighters, I see families holding on to hope, I see people who need someone to say, “I am here for you.”

This journey has made me more than a nurse- it has made me a companion in people’s most vulnerable moments. And for that, I am forever grateful.