Masaji came into my life when I was 6 months old with a big orange teddy bear, which I still have, although minus an eye and with a hole in the foot!
16 months ago he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and being a doctor you’d think that it’s not possible, that it must be some sort of sick joke. How can a doctor get ill when he makes so many people better? And he was such a good doctor; he would be able to diagnose your problem straight away. When my older daughter had a cough, within 3 minutes he said, there was nothing to worry about but she has childhood asthma, it’s very common and that she will need an inhaler for the first 2 to 3 years of her life and he was spot on. However, it took me 3 visits to my GP before I got a referral to the hospital and then my older daughter got her inhaler.
He was good with kids and always wanted to join in with whatever game we and now my kids were playing. He somehow had some sort of calming influence on my girls as I have a picture of them both fallen asleep cuddled up with him after I had given up trying to give them a nap.
He would always have lots of pens and little odds and ends like that to give you every time you met him. During my A-levels, I said that the post-it notes were useful for revision. That was almost 20 years ago and I still haven’t finished the stack of post it notes I received from him!
Even though we all knew he was going to die, it still seems shocking. How can he be gone? He was still young. He was due to retire after working all his life. It’s good in a way that he didn’t suffer too much, the way cancer patients can suffer. It’s good that he got to fulfil his last dying wish to go to India, his homeland, the place where he was born. But it’s still so wrong that he really has gone.
R.I.P. Masaji x