Uncertainty: A Silent Companion
July 30, 2025
Life has a way of teaching us lessons when we least expect it. Sometimes with joy, sometimes with grief, and often with a force so unpredictable it catches us completely off guard. That force has a name: uncertainty—the silent thread that weaves through every moment of our lives.
Uncertainty is an invisible companion that shadows our daily lives. It rarely announces itself, yet its presence is felt most acutely when the unexpected strikes—often during life's most challenging moments. Yet not all surprises it brings are unwelcome. Sometimes, joy arrives unannounced, wishes are granted effortlessly, and blessings unfold without explanation. These too are born of uncertainty.
Date Etched in Memory
Last year, on July 30th, 2024, uncertainty dealt a blow that defied imagination. It was the second consecutive year that this date marked a life-altering event. The year before, on October 7th, 2023, I received an emergency call in the dead of night. My father—Baba—had been admitted suddenly. By morning, he was gone.
This time, it was my younger brother.
He had complained of weakness in his legs, numbness in his hands and feet, and an inability to walk. Having just recovered from a fever, we assumed it was the aftermath of medication. But something in him must have sensed a deeper issue. Despite heavy rains, he pushed himself to visit a doctor, who referred him immediately to Jehangir Hospital for tests—MRI, NCT, and more. Later, my mother called: he had been admitted. Without hesitation, I left Mumbai.
When I arrived, he was already in the NICU. I was surprised, but not prepared for what followed.
A Body Trapped, A Mind Awake
The next day, doctors confirmed the diagnosis: Guillain-Barré Syndrome, a rare, autoimmune condition where the body’s immune system attacks the peripheral nerves. I’d only heard of it through the TV series House MD. Now it was our reality.
- Day 1: ICU admission
- Day 2: Facial paralysis, difficulty breathing
- Day 3: Ventilator
- Day 4: Tracheostomy
Guillain-Barré syndrome strips away control: muscles weaken, sensations vanish, breathing and swallowing become burdens. The body is paralyzed—but the mind remains alert. Imagine being fully conscious, unable to move or communicate. “Dead, but awake.”
The treatment began immediately—20 bottles of immunoglobulin, each costing ₹25,000. Outside the NICU, I stood as the point of contact. Helpless. Exhausted. Lost. You learn, in moments like these, that you are not in control of anything. You watch, you wait, and you hope. The air around you is thick with pain and uncertainty; in the ICU, the cries of families mourning their losses pierce through your thoughts like thunder.
The Stillness of ICU
I became the first point of contact. Helpless. Exhausted. Lost. You learn, in moments like these, that you are not in control of anything. You watch, you wait, and you hope. The air around you is thick with pain and uncertainty; in the ICU, the cries of families mourning their losses pierce through your thoughts like thunder.
After the drug course ended, the protocol was “wait and watch.” No one could predict recovery. Meanwhile, his lungs were paralyzed, kept functioning by machines. He was in pain, aware, unable to speak. I spent hours by his side, trying to read the emotion in his eyes and hold space for his silent suffering.
Each day brought a new medical crisis: fever spikes, erratic blood pressure, sugar levels, loose motions. New specialists joined the effort with new treatment plans, but nothing changed. For 30 days, there was no improvement—an eternity in intensive care. Hope faded. We consulted over 15 specialists; all gave the same message: the treatment was right, but only nature could heal him. One renowned doctor told me plainly, “Modern medicine cannot help further; now we must rely on nature.”
A Flicker of Light
Then again Uncertainty strikes, unexpectedly, a flicker of progress. He began regaining control over his breathing. Doctors started reducing ventilator support, monitoring him in small windows. Eventually, he sustained himself on oxygen alone. After 48 days in the ICU, he was moved to a private room—still paralyzed but stable. On September 28th, 2024, we brought him home. Sixty days in the hospital, 48 in the ICU. A new chapter had begun. The road ahead still held its share of challenges, but one truth stood firm—life had been saved.
Gratitude and Grace
I’m deeply grateful to Dr. Botre and Dr. Borse for their unwavering transparency, their realism, and for guarding our hope through the darkest hours. And to my wife, mother who stood beside me every moment—intuitively understanding my mental state, offering strength when mine was drained. Without her, I could not have faced this storm.
Uncertainty! The Invisible Companion
Uncertainty isn’t just a concept. It’s a living, breathing presence in our lives. It hides in joy, sorrow, success, and suffering. It teaches us to let go, to accept, to be present. We don’t control it. We only learn to live alongside it.
So, remember it. Respect it. Let it remind you that life is fragile, unpredictable, and incredibly precious.
प्रकृतेः क्रियमाणानि गुणैः कर्माणि सर्वशः । अहङ्कारविमूढात्मा कर्ताहमिति मन्यते ॥
