A Hand to Hold, A Shoulder to Lean On: The Soul of Palliative Care

A Hand to Hold, A Shoulder to Lean On: The Soul of Palliative Care

– Dr. Mujeeb Kuttamassery, Kochi

The United Nations observes the International Day of Friendship every year on 30th July to promote friendship, peace, and understanding among people, cultures, and nations. To mark this occasion, the IAPC features this article in celebration of World Friendship Day, highlighting the profound role of companionship in palliative care. It shares stories of human compassion and the friendships that blossom through service. It shows how dedicated volunteers in palliative care become friends—and often like family—to those who are suffering, offering love, dignity, and solace when it’s needed most.

“Let us be friends to the lonely, a support to those who struggle, and solace to those who suffer.
If not us, then who?”

Pain is the great affliction that disturbs human beings the most. It manifests differently in every person, in body and in soul.

Palliative care—known in Malayalam as Santhwana Paricharanam—exists precisely to bring comfort to those who suffer.

Beyond barriers of caste, religion, or politics, palliative care stands as a rare realm where kind-hearted people can truly come together, united in compassion.

My own journey into palliative care began in 2011. In my village, alarmed by the uncontrolled rise in cancer cases, a small group of us gathered, seeking answers. That search led us to the world of palliative care. Since then, we have been able to bring solace to hundreds of patients and their families.

As I attempt to share a few experiences from the world of palliative care, countless faces and memories flood my mind. Let me narrate just a few glimpses from different times and circumstances:

The Great Flood of 2018

In 2018, Kerala was devastated by unprecedented floods as the Periyar River overflowed its banks. On Independence Day, August 15, after the flag hoisting and distribution of sweets at our centre, we noticed water levels rising rapidly. Though initially we hoped it would not become serious, we decided to evacuate about six patients to a nearby building and left the centre, thinking the worst was over.

But the water kept rising for three continuous days. Climbing hills, wading through water, we finally reached the patients. There, through sleepless nights, our beloved Dr. Haidar Ali and our nurses stayed by the side of patients, many of whom were in the fourth stage of cancer and passed away during those days.

Transporting the deceased to their own villages was impossible due to floodwaters. Equally heart-wrenching was that their families couldn’t reach them in their final hours. With consent from the families, we arranged for cremations and burials in local crematoriums and graveyards beyond the reach of floodwaters. There were no rituals, no pomp, no customs—only strangers who stood in as family, offering love and respect as though these departed souls were their own kin.

The Pandemic of 2019-2020

When COVID-19 posed a challenge in 2019, Life Care Foundation stepped up to support bedridden patients in their homes. We offered free 24-hour emergency palliative home care. We also took up the deeply sensitive responsibility of handling funeral rites for those who died from COVID-19—a memory that still remains vivid.

During a time when parents were separated from children, husbands from wives, our team risked our own lives to bring comfort to others. Amid countless memories, one story stands out, offering inspiration:

A Story from 2020

At the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, in 2020, a man arrived in my village. Formerly a manager at a prominent hotel in Delhi and a descendant of the Adi Shankara family of Kalady, he had returned to Kerala after being diagnosed with cancer. While undergoing treatment, he contracted COVID-19. Following government instructions, he was admitted to a prominent hospital in Ernakulam, where he eventually passed away.

Because his wife was also COVID-positive and his daughter was in quarantine, no family member could perform his final rites. At the request of the Keezhmadu Village Panchayat and his relatives, my colleagues and I accepted responsibility for his body. Unable to conduct traditional rituals, we respectfully adorned him with silk cloth and jasmine garlands, and—remarkably—with the family’s consent—a Muslim like me was able to light the funeral pyre of a Brahmin brother.

Faith, caste, and religion did not stand in the way of ensuring a dignified farewell for this devout man. There, in that hour of grief, the true grandeur of friendship shone forth.

A Glimpse from March 2024

On March 21, 2024, as part of our weekly home visits on Mondays and Thursdays, I joined the Suraksha Palliative Home Care team led by Medical Officer Dr. Shyam Prasad Raghavan, along with Sister Sivi Sajan and two volunteers. That day, we visited a family in the Sreemoolanagaram Panchayat whose story still brings tears to my eyes.

Fondly known to us as chedathi (chedathi – elder sister), this woman was a widow and mother to three children. She was suffering from cancer and mental illness.   She had managed to marry off her eldest daughter, and the family was surviving on the meagre income of her eldest son. The youngest son, too, struggled with mental illness, wandering aimlessly.

Stepping into that home was heartbreaking. In one room, the mentally ill son had left piles of cigarette butts. In another room, Chedathi lay with a cancer wound gnawing into her leg, maggots crawling out, the air unbearably foul. Our youth volunteers cleaned the home, arranged necessary facilities, and only then could we begin proper medical care.

Chedchi’s brother, though living amidst anguish and anxiety, held my hands tightly as we reassured him: “We are here for you.” With continuous support from the palliative home care team, we were able to help ease Chedathi’s final journey and bid her farewell with dignity.

Dear friends—

“To be a friend to the lonely,
A helping hand to those in distress,
A comfort to those in pain…”

It costs us neither wealth nor endless time to bring solace to the suffering. Each of us has the power to be that comforting presence.

What it takes is only one thing—a heart willing to serve.

It is through the genuine compassion of countless such hearts that palliative care has flourished, not only in our tiny Kerala but also across India.