Suchita recovering from BMT (L), and now( R)
I am 20, but my life—the one I truly consider life—began just four years ago, after I completed a year of recovery from my bone marrow transplant.
I was born as a fragile child, often catching coughs and colds and developing pneumonia or jaundice. At 5, my general physician advised my parents to test me for sickle cell anaemia, and it was confirmed. Sickle cell anaemia is a genetic disease that can happen to a child if both parents are carriers of the sickle cell trait. Interestingly, though the trait protects us from deadly malaria, a disease that spreads through mosquito bites, which is rampant in the area where we live, sickle cell disease is chronic, painful, and complicated.
Throughout these years, I struggled with school and studies, friends and play, and family and fun. My haemoglobin levels would drop to 3 or 4, leaving me breathless and at risk of stroke, and I would need to be rushed to the hospital for a blood transfusion. However, even that wouldn't provide much relief. In fact, once the blood transfusion caused a strong reaction in my body. I don't remember exactly what happened that day, but I do know that my parents were terrified of taking me for the next transfusion. In my teens, even the slightest exhaustion, or weather changes would result in severe pain.
Suchita with her parents
By the age of 15, I realized that I couldn't continue living in constant fear of these sickle cell crises any longer. I vividly remember one birthday when I dared to have some fun with my younger cousin and it triggered a pain episode. I hesitated to share it with my mother because I didn't want to spoil the happy memory I had just created. Now when I go back to my life before 16, I hardly find any happy memory.
I vividly remember one birthday when I dared to have some fun with my younger cousin and it triggered a pain episode. I hesitated to share it with my mother because I didn't want to spoil the happy memory I had just created. Now when I go back to my life before 16, I hardly find any happy memory.
When I met Dr. Gaurav Kharya, Director, Department of Bone Marrow Transplant and Cellular Therapy at Indraprastha Apollo Hospital, Delhi, he advised us to consider a bone marrow transplant. As it was my only hope for a better life, I decided to go for it.
Nothing was easy—from my first preparatory injection to my first and subsequent cycles of chemotherapy, losing my hair, and constantly feeling nauseous during that time. The only comforting aspect was knowing that all of this could potentially bring an end to my ongoing suffering. On January 7, 2020, I finally underwent my bone marrow transplant.
My donor was a kind woman in her 20s with a dusky complexion. She wasn't related to me, but she was found to be a match through Datri, a stem cell registry in India. She simply wanted to help me, and to this day, she remains one of my favorite human beings because she taught me the true meaning of unconditional kindness. Though I met her post-transplant, I often express my gratitude to her in my thoughts.
My donor was a kind woman in her 20s with a dusky complexion. She wasn't related to me, but she was found to be a match through Datri, a stem cell registry in India. She simply wanted to help me, and to this day, she remains one of my favorite human beings because she taught me the true meaning of unconditional kindness. Though I met her post-transplant, I often express my gratitude to her in my thoughts.
Dr Gaurav Kharya, Suchita's doctor who did her Bone Marrow Transplant
After the transplant, my doctor advised me to follow certain precautions, but then the country was hit by an unprecedented pandemic. My parents were scared. None of us should contract the highly contagious disease, which was spreading fast across the world. We had to travel from Delhi, where I had the transplant, to Bhopal, my hometown. After reaching home, my parents practically locked us inside.
During the pandemic, I contracted a urinary tract infection a couple of times and had to be admitted to the hospital. Many of our immediate family members and friends contracted Covid, but fortunately, the four of us—I, my mother, father, and younger brother—didn't.
After a year, I started feeling better. I was slowly taken off most of my medications, and my pain disappeared. I was finally allowed to attend school online. I had always dreamed of becoming a doctor, and I felt that now I could fulfill my dream. I studied as hard as I could. However, when I took my NEET exam last year, I realized that I was far behind my peers. They had been studying diligently for many years, and I began comparing myself with them.
That wasn't what I wanted from my newfound life. I changed my priorities, deciding to take things at a slower pace and enjoy the simple, happy moments I had missed out on all these years—the scent of the spring breeze, the feeling of the first raindrops on my hands, and trips to the nearest shopping complex with my friends.
I have taken the medical entrance exam again this year, but my dreams have changed. Now, I want to do something meaningful with my life, whether or not I become a doctor. Yes, I owe this life to my doctor, my donor and my parents, who have helped me have this pain-free life. As I pack my bags for my first-ever vacation, I am happy that I am creating beautiful memories that I will cherish all my life.