The last resort

Out of the 38 patients admitted there in one year, 18 have died and onlyfour have returned home. The rest are still there with no hope of leavingsince their families do not want them back.

In fact, at the root of the very existence of this hospice is the story of aconvict who had HIV and was left unattended and abandoned in the MedicalCollege Hospital nearby. Father Joseph Kundakulam, who was formerly thearchbishop there, came to know of this man afflicted with diseases and witha body covered with painful bed sores. He send members of the convent totake care of him. After that, the priest was determined to start a placewhere HIV positive patients who had been rejected by society could be caredfor, says the home8217;s director, Father Varghese Palathingal.

The National AIDS Control Organisation NACO has since offered its supportto this hospice as one of the three pilot projects for hospices forneglected AIDS patients.

But the question remains whether such hospices are a solution, and what theinmates of the hospice in Peringandoor say enforces such doubts. Theirstories of total rejection by society suggests that while a hospice may helpa handful, an attempt to remove false fears and the stigma attached to thedisease would go a longer way in helping patients.

Among the inmates in the home is a couple from Thrissur district, two loverswho defied their parents and got married. They belong to two differentreligions. Nandini is just 22 years old and her face is always lit with asmile. She says that she did not know that her husband was HIV positive whenshe married him. He knew it but did not tell her, she says. But she forgavehim because he hid his illness from her for fear of losing her, she says.

When he collapsed one day, she rushed him to the district hospital in anautorickshaw. There they were kept waiting to see a doctor. And as Nandiniran up and down the hospital seeking help, the autorickshaw driver learntabout Joseph8217;s HIV status. In an hour he was back where Nandini and Josephlived, spreading the news to everyone that Joseph was HIV positive and nodoctor was ready to see him.

The landlord promptly threw out the couple8217;s belongings from their house,says Nandini. The two then moved to another hospital from where they wereadvised by the relatives of another AIDS patient to go to the hospice. 8220;Butbefore that, we contemplated suicide,8221; admits Nandini, who says she owesher life to the hospice. While Nandini, who is also HIV positive now, hassuffered no ailments so far, Joseph too is recovering under the care of thenuns of the home and visiting doctors.

But where would they go if they were to leave the home? Nowhere. Nandini hasno hope of ever going back to the world that rejected her. Father VarghesePalathingal is contemplating jobs for women like her who may be left withoutany source of income because of HIV.

And then there8217;s the story of Kali from Kozhikode district. She was broughtto the home by her own adult children, who asked her never to return, saysFather Palathingal.

Murali, who has a grocery shop in a Thrissur village, is another inmate.8220;No one wants me to return,8221; he says. But he is worried about his wife andchildren and he wants to go with them somewhere and live incognito.

The stories are endless, as many as the 16-odd patients there. FatherPalathingal says the fear people have of the disease and the resultantostracism patients have to face is evident in the opposition faced by thehospice from the local people. The locals are also opposing a proposedAIDS-cum-cancer hospital that is to come up in their village. They say theyhad nothing against the patients, but did not want their village to be asite for hospitals treating infectious diseases.

The names of patients have been changed