Modern Medicine and the Shadow of Illness

 This is a cross-post from another physician. This is an interesting essay from Aasim Hasany, a physician at McMaster University.  It is an interesting read for physicians who struggled to put science in the broader context of spirituality. The link is at the end. It is part of a magazine, which itself deserved to be bookmarked.

"When we set aside the lens of the mechanistic worldview and open our “inward eye,” we begin to see the human body as a spiritual theophany (tajallī) rather than a complex earthly machine. The organs of our bodies and our physiological processes reveal themselves as more than impersonal instantiations of “laws of nature,” for they are existential symbols that teach us about our journey from God and return back to Him. 

 When we move beyond mechanism, the cell is no longer a factory processing the code of DNA into various proteins but a symbol of how “divine writ” (kalām Allāh) is transcribed, translated, and concretized in specific formulations in the universe. The lungs are more than bellows moving air in and out of the body; they are a symbol of the soul, which expands and contracts with the coming and going of divine inspiration (nafas al-raĥmān). Likewise, the heart and the blood circulating through its network of arteries and veins represent the spiritual center (qiblah) and the pilgrims who travel to and from this center in order to transmit and receive the blessing of God (barakah)."

Link: https://renovatio.zaytuna.edu/article/modern-medicine-and-the-shadow-illness

A Diary from Haj

(Posted as shared)

"It is strange to see women totally covered sleeping in the mosque.
On the side note, the electricity bill of this place should be in millions at least. 
Only animals you will see are cats & pigeons.

It is weird to be stared at by men.
No one looks at you in the west.

In 2009, you were not allowed to take camera phone inside. Now as everyone has a smartphone, the authority cannot do much. The amount of selfies taken with Kaaba in the background is mind-boggling. People making videos while doing tawaaf is distasteful. I have even seen people Skype while doing tawaaf. I may sound ancient but C'mon people. It is just not right. 

As many men have their shoulders uncovered, it is rather cringe-worthy to see human flaws. Hair like a bear, moles & skin tags. Some men have their belly bare which is very unsightly. Quite unattractive. Such big wobbly bellies. 

The cloth of Kaaba is very fragrant. Very soft.

People bring food and give it to other people. Anything from tea to candy to dates etc etc. My sister in law actually thought that people are selling it. It is 3.16 am. People are giving away tea and snacks. Isn't it great? Free food.

There are ababeel like birds at Fajr time.

There is no overweight Malaysian or Indonesian woman and no underweight Arab woman that I have seen:-) I can see women with water bottles on the top of their heads just like a gaon ki aurat with matka on her head. It is very amusing to see that. Some Arab woman from a gaon of Egypt may be.

Egyptians make the largest proportion of visitors to Makkah followed by Pakistan & Indonesia. "

..And the man whose daughter had brain surgery....

(This is a cross post from Afia Aslam blog with her permission).

My husband's best friend was visiting from the UK this last week and he joined us for lunch one day. This friend has only recently been through a harrowing experience: his two-year old daughter has a rare condition because of which she's been having seizures since birth and her physical development has been slowed down. With every seizure, the chances of brain damage go up and so when no other intervention seemed to be working, her parents opted for brain surgery. It was, as you can imagine, a decision the likes of which no parent should have to take. There are no guarantees in brain surgery. And she is two years old. (Please allow that to sink in for a bit before reading on.) But they did what they had to do and what I'd like to tell you today is the aplomb with which they did it. When I told them that Solom said his first namaz to pray for their daughter, they took the time to thank us and said: 'They just started her surgery. We have left her in Allah's protection.' I remember being taken aback by the strength in that simple declaration of faith. As I told someone later over Twitter, I can't imagine having the courage to let my child go into the operation theatre. I don't think I could actually let either of my sons go, physically, into someone else's arms knowing that someone's about to cut open some part of their body. Even writing it makes me cringe.

 And yet, a week ago when this little girl's father was sitting at our dining table, recounting the experience, he was not beating his chest over the horror of it all. He was searching for meaning in what had happened. And he was grateful. "There must be a reason for all this," he said twice. "She was getting the seizures, we didn't know what to do. My transfer to the UK came unexpectedly at that same time, so we could now get good healthcare for her. And think about it, Afia, my daughter was operated on in one of the best hospitals in the world, and I didn't have to pay a penny for it. And she hasn't had a single seizure since the surgery. There must be a reason. Somewhere, there is something I have to do to make up for the way things have worked out for us. I just haven't figured out yet what that thing is."

 I very nearly forgot to eat while he was saying this. Because I'll whine and whinge at practically anything you can throw my way and here is this man talking about how he has to repay a cosmic debt because his daughter's been through brain surgery. I was humbled and it gave me some perspective. In the pathetically minor case of Solom not performing at his school parade as I was hoping, I had to remind myself to let go and be grateful that I was lucky enough to even have him, dammit. When looking at the trials others have been through with their children, who the hell cares whether their child says, "I'm a builder" the first, second or third time they're asked? Who cares whether they ought to have been a builder, a pilot or a butcher? Who cares how their school test or interview went? Every other consideration sounds like nonsense when one considers the fragility of this exquisite equilibrium, in which one can carelessly throw around words like 'family', 'children' and 'tomorrow'.

 This doesn't mean that I suddenly went from being Mrs. Bates to Mother Theresa. But I spent time with Solom this last week, you know? I read to him more, talked to him more, played with him more. I didn't allow myself to obsess endlessly over his manners, his attire, his speech, his food, his TV time, his posture, his confidence, his performance, his safety, his social life, his feelings... God, the perpetual guilt of having to discipline and then worry about the child's feelings! And so, Solom and I hung out. And we loved being with each other.

(Read full post at http://aafsterlife.blogspot.com/2012/03/music-lights-action.html)

Afia is a blogger, a full-time mother to two toddlers, and a perennial writer in the making. She has an MPhil in Education from the University of Cambridge and has varied work experience, including coordination of a nationwide NGO programme for rural girls' education, consulting for Pakistan's National Education Policy team, research projects for DfID and USAID, and several freelance writing and editing assignments. She won the Best Diarist category at the 2011 Pakistan Blog Awards. Her articles have been published in Expert Parenting and Pregnancy Magazine. She is a co-founder of Desi Writers Lounge.