Mubashir's JOURNEY

Mubashir’s Journey: A Mother’s Love, a Family’s Struggle, and a Battle for Life

Some journeys begin with a dream. Others begin with a question that no parent ever expects to ask: What is happening to my child? This is the story of my son, Mubashir — a journey filled with love, fear, uncertainty, painful lessons, and a faith in Allah that never allowed me to give up.

Chapter 1: The First Signs That Something Was Wrong

Mubashir was only seven years old when we first began noticing that something was not quite right. At first, the signs were subtle. He started having difficulty climbing stairs. Running became a little harder for him, and even walking sometimes seemed to require more effort than it should have for a child his age. As a mother, I could not ignore these changes. I knew my child, and I could sense that something was different. We took him to a child specialist at a well-reputed hospital. We wanted answers, and we trusted that the doctors would help us understand what was happening to our little boy. After conducting several tests, we were told that his vitamin D, iron, and some other levels were low. We followed the doctor's advice carefully and began the prescribed treatment. We gave him his medicines and supplements, hoping that everything would soon return to normal. And, for a while, it seemed that our prayers had been answered. Gradually, Mubashir improved. His vitamin levels and other deficiencies were corrected, and we continued giving him multivitamins as advised. We maintained his treatment for approximately a year. As his condition improved and he seemed to return to his normal self, we eventually stopped the supplements. For the next two to three years, he appeared to be doing well. We had no reason to believe that a much bigger battle might be waiting for us. Like any mother, I wanted to believe that the difficult days were behind us. I wanted my son to grow up, play, run, eat happily, and enjoy the simple pleasures of childhood. I had no idea how much our lives would eventually change.

Chapter 2: When the Signs Returned

After those relatively peaceful years, we gradually began noticing changes in Mubashir again. His appetite started decreasing. He no longer seemed as interested in food as he once had been. Slowly, I began to feel that he was becoming weaker. Most noticeably, his legs appeared thinner to me. At first, I could not understand what was happening. There was no single, obvious explanation that we could point to. He simply seemed different. Then his relationship with food changed even more. He began eating very little. Even food that should have tasted delicious to him seemed tasteless. Watching your child lose interest in eating is difficult, especially when you cannot understand why it is happening. I kept observing him, wondering what was wrong and hoping that it was something temporary. Then, one day, Mubashir's father noticed something unusual about his legs. When Mubashir stood with his knees together, his lower legs angled outward, creating a V-like appearance. This condition is medically known as genu valgum, commonly called knock knees. It was a visible change that we could no longer ignore. We initially struggled to understand why his legs had developed this shape. We wanted to know what was causing the deformity and whether it could be corrected. We decided to take him to an orthopaedic specialist. That visit would become one of the most significant turning points in our journey.

Chapter 3: The Explanation We Believed

After examining Mubashir, the orthopaedic doctor told us that his legs were bent and suggested that they had been that way since childhood. We agreed. Looking back, I realise how easily we accepted that explanation. His legs had become noticeably bowed, and when the doctor confidently told us that this was a longstanding condition, we assumed he must be right. After all, we had taken our child to a specialist because we needed medical guidance. We were not there to question every conclusion. We trusted that the person examining him would investigate the cause of his condition and explain what needed to be done. We sought a second medical opinion, hoping for greater clarity. Unfortunately, the second doctor also suggested that Mubashir's legs had been bent since childhood. Some tests were performed, including checks of vitamin D and calcium levels, along with X-rays. However, we still did not have a clear understanding of why his condition had developed or what might be causing the changes we had noticed. The doctor prescribed an intravenous treatment, as I recall, and advised us to see whether his symptoms improved within approximately a week. We were told that if the pain continued or the problem did not improve, surgery might be necessary. We were frightened, but we wanted to help our son. At that point, we believed we were dealing with an orthopaedic problem. We had no idea that there might be a deeper medical issue behind everything we were seeing.

Chapter 4: The Decision to Operate

Within about a month, Mubashir was having difficulty with ordinary movements, including sitting down and getting up. Seeing him struggle with such basic activities was heartbreaking. How could a mother watch her child experience these difficulties and simply do nothing? We decided that surgery might be the best way forward. The doctors discussed two possible approaches. The first involved correcting the severe bend in his leg by cutting or fracturing the bone and inserting a wedge to help straighten it. The second option involved inserting a rod into his leg to prevent the deformity from progressing and allow the leg to gradually become straighter over time. We were presented with these options and tried to understand what would be best for our son. We wanted to choose the treatment that would give him the best chance of walking comfortably again. Eventually, the wedge procedure was not performed. According to the doctor, the appropriate wedge was not available. Instead, the team proceeded with the rod-insertion procedure. And so, we went ahead with the operation, believing that we were taking an important step towards improving Mubashir's condition. We had hope. We had trust. And, like so many parents standing outside an operating theatre, we wanted nothing more than to see our child recover. At that time, our family also had doctors among our relatives. Yet none of us recognised what I would later come to see as a crucial concern: we did not know whether all the appropriate pre-operative investigations had been completed. In particular, we later became concerned that Mubashir's kidney function had not been adequately assessed before the procedure. We did not understand then how important it was for the medical team to evaluate his overall health, including kidney function, before surgery and anaesthesia. We were focused on his legs. We wanted to correct the problem we could see. We did not know what might be happening inside his body.

Chapter 5: The Photograph That Made Me Question Everything

Even before the operation, a small doubt had begun to trouble me. Something about the explanation that Mubashir's legs had been bent since childhood did not feel right. I remembered his earlier years. I remembered how he used to stand and walk. Somewhere in my heart, I felt that his legs had not always been like this. But memories can become uncertain when doctors offer a confident explanation, and we did not have many photographs from those years. We were not a family that took pictures constantly. Still, I decided to look. I searched through our old photographs, going back approximately two years. I was looking for something that could help me understand what I remembered but could not prove. And then I found one. In that photograph, Mubashir was standing, and his shoes were clearly visible. His feet appeared aligned rather than turned or joined in the way we had been led to believe they had always been. I looked at the picture and felt a wave of disbelief. I showed it to my husband. "Look at this," I told him. "Mubashir's feet were aligned. His legs were not like this in the past. His bones were not bent like this since childhood." That photograph became more than an old family memory. It became a reason for us to question the explanation we had accepted. For me, it was a deeply painful realisation. We had made an important decision about our child's health based on what we believed was the correct diagnosis, but now I was questioning whether the underlying cause had been properly investigated. I cannot describe the helplessness of looking back and wondering whether we had missed something important. As parents, we had acted because we wanted to relieve our son's suffering. We had trusted the medical advice available to us. We had not deliberately ignored anything, nor had we wanted to take unnecessary risks. We were simply trying to do what we believed was best for him. Yet that photograph left me with questions that I could not easily put aside. Could his condition have had another cause? Had we understood the full picture before agreeing to surgery? Could something more fundamental have been happening in his body while we were concentrating on his legs? I did not have the answers. All I knew was that my son had been struggling, and I desperately wanted to understand why. Still, I reminded myself of something that had always given me strength: whatever happens, Allah knows what we cannot know. We can make decisions with the information available to us, but the future is beyond our control. I could not change what had already happened. I could only keep searching for answers, keep caring for my child, and keep moving forward. At that point, I had no idea that our journey was far from over — or that the real explanation for Mubashir's condition would lead us into an entirely different and much more difficult chapter of our lives. This was only the beginning.

Chapter 6: The Operation Was Over, but Our Struggle Was Far from Over

The operation had been completed, and we brought Mubashir home with the hope that things would gradually improve. At the time of his discharge, we were given some medical reports. Those reports mentioned that tests, including urea, creatinine, and blood sugar, had been performed. However, we had not been informed of the actual urea and creatinine results, and we had not received those reports ourselves. We had no idea how important those missing pieces of information might eventually become. We brought our son home, hoping that he would recover and begin walking normally again. But, unfortunately, his leg did not improve as we had expected. About a week after the operation, pus began coming from the surgical wound. An infection had developed, despite the fact that I had been giving him the antibiotics prescribed by the doctor. Mubashir was in considerable pain, and watching him suffer was becoming increasingly difficult. The doctor who had operated on him was away at the time, so we had to seek help elsewhere. We took Mubashir to another doctor. By then, his condition had become so difficult that he could barely walk. Although only one leg had undergone surgery, it seemed as though he had forgotten how to walk altogether. Even walking with a stick was a struggle. I can still imagine how difficult it must have been for him to climb those three or four steps to reach the doctor's clinic. Every step was a challenge for a child who should have been able to move freely and enjoy his childhood. When the doctor examined him from a distance, she made it clear that she would not take over his treatment or even touch his operated leg. His father tried to explain our situation and requested that she at least guide us, since the surgeon was unavailable. We wanted to understand what had gone wrong. Was the rod inside his leg causing the problem? Was it incorrectly placed? Was there something else we needed to know? But we did not receive the answers we had hoped for. The doctor suggested that we visit certain other hospitals and specialists, and she prescribed several tests. At that moment, I was deeply upset. I was angry that we had taken our child to a doctor and had left without the examination and guidance we had desperately needed. I was also frustrated with my husband because I could not understand why we had even gone there if the doctor was unwilling to assess Mubashir properly. I did not know then that the tests she had prescribed would become a turning point in our entire journey. Sometimes, we do not realise the significance of a moment until we look back at it years later. Those tests would eventually lead us towards the real explanation for Mubashir's deteriorating health.

Chapter 7: A Report That Changed Everything

Eventually, the surgeon who had operated on Mubashir returned, and we managed to get an appointment. He cleaned the affected area and prescribed medication. He reassured us that the infection should improve with treatment and that removing the rod might not be necessary. For the first time in what felt like a long while, we had a little hope again. We thanked Allah for every small possibility of improvement. My greatest wish was simple: I wanted my son's leg to become straight, but, above all, I wanted him to walk again. I did not care about anything else as much as I cared about seeing my child regain his ability to move without such difficulty. Meanwhile, we had completed the tests recommended by the other doctor. When we received the results, one particular report immediately caught our attention. It was the test measuring parathyroid hormone, commonly known as PTH. Mubashir's PTH level was approximately 1,300. It was an extraordinarily high result, far above the usual reference range, and it alarmed us. We knew that something was seriously wrong, but we did not yet understand the full extent of the problem. I asked whether we could consult an endocrinologist who could help us understand what the result meant and what we needed to do next. We contacted Dr Tauseef at the same hospital and arranged a consultation. By then, Mubashir still had not returned to walking normally. We were desperately searching for an explanation for his weakness, the changes in his legs, and the extraordinarily high PTH level. Before reaching Dr Tauseef, however, we had already consulted another endocrinologist in our area. That doctor had reviewed Mubashir's PTH results and prescribed medication, including Sunny D tablets. We were told that the problem would improve. We followed the treatment and waited, hoping that we would finally see a meaningful change. But after approximately a month, we still could not see the improvement we had hoped for. When we checked the reports, the PTH level had fallen by only around a hundred points, while Mubashir's overall condition had not improved significantly. We knew we could not simply continue waiting without understanding what was happening. And so, we decided to seek Dr Tauseef's opinion.

Chapter 8: The Warning We Had Never Expected

When Dr Tauseef examined Mubashir and reviewed his condition, he gave us an instruction that I have never forgotten. He told us not to make Mubashir walk. He advised us to let him remain seated and avoid walking until his condition had been properly assessed. That advice was frightening, but it also made us realise how seriously we needed to take his condition. Until then, we had been desperately hoping that his leg would heal and that he would gradually regain his ability to walk. Now, we were being told not to let him walk at all. The doctor ordered several additional investigations. We arranged the tests as quickly as possible because we wanted answers. We had spent so much time trying to understand what was wrong with our son's legs that we were no longer willing to accept uncertainty without further investigation. When we returned with the results, the doctor told us that he suspected Mubashir's kidney function might be reduced by approximately 50 per cent. We were stunned. His creatinine level was around 3, significantly above the usual range for a child, and his urea was also elevated. Until that moment, our attention had been focused primarily on his legs, the operation, the infection, and the extremely high PTH level. We had not understood that his kidneys might be at the centre of the entire problem. How could this be happening to our child? We had taken him to doctors. We had followed their advice. We had given him the prescribed medicines. We had agreed to surgery because we wanted him to recover. Yet, despite everything we had done, we were now facing a completely different and much more frightening possibility. The doctor recommended that we consult a nephrologist, a specialist in kidney diseases. We asked him to guide us towards a suitable specialist at the same hospital. And so, we took another step into the unknown. We did not yet know where this path would lead, but we knew we had to follow it. Our son needed answers, and we could not stop searching for them.

Chapter 9: The Day My World Went Silent

It was the month of Ramadan. Even outside the hospital, our family was already going through an exceptionally difficult period. Some of my children had developed chickenpox, and we were struggling to manage their care at home while trying to arrange the medical treatment Mubashir urgently needed. Everything seemed to be happening at once. There were sick children at home, a son who could barely walk, hospital appointments, medical reports, and a growing fear that something serious had been happening inside his body for far longer than we had realised. We somehow managed to arrange care for the children at home, and my husband and I took Mubashir's reports to the nephrologist. We went there hoping for clarity. We were not prepared for what we were about to hear. After reviewing Mubashir's condition and investigations, the nephrologist told us that his kidney function was far more severely impaired than we had understood. We were told that only approximately 2 per cent of his kidney function remained. The doctor was describing a devastating level of kidney failure. I cannot adequately explain what that moment felt like. Until then, we had been worried about his legs. We had been concerned about his operation and the infection. We had been frightened by the PTH result, but we still hoped that there would be a treatment that could put everything right. Now, suddenly, we were being told that our son's kidneys were barely functioning. It felt as though the world around me had stopped. My husband somehow managed to absorb what the doctor was saying, but I could not. For a while, I felt as though I had blacked out emotionally. My mind could not process the information. The doctor continued speaking to my husband, but I could not remember what they discussed during those next fifteen minutes. I was physically present, but my thoughts seemed to have disappeared somewhere far away. I had brought my son to the hospital hoping to find a way to help him walk again. I had no idea that I would leave having learned something that would change our entire lives. And yet, in that moment of unbearable shock, there was one thing I remember clearly. I had the Holy Quran with me. I kept reading it. I read and read, holding on to its words because I did not know what else to hold on to. My heart was overwhelmed, and my mind could not make sense of what I had heard. I needed something that could steady me when everything inside me felt as though it was falling apart. For me, that something was the Quran. I cannot say that my fear disappeared. It did not. Nor did I suddenly understand why this was happening to my child. But I kept reading. Sometimes, a person does not have the strength to find the right words for a prayer. Sometimes, all they can do is turn towards Allah and keep going, one moment at a time. That day, I returned home carrying a reality I had never imagined I would have to face. My son had severe kidney failure. And we had a long road ahead of us.

Chapter 10: The Biopsy and an Unexpected Change

The nephrologist recommended further investigations and wanted Mubashir to undergo a kidney biopsy. At that point, we did not fully understand why the biopsy was necessary or exactly what the doctors hoped to discover through it. We were frightened and confused, but we followed the medical advice because we needed to know more about our son's condition. A couple of days later, my husband took Mubashir to the hospital for the biopsy. After the procedure and the necessary observation, Mubashir returned home while we waited for the results. His kidney condition remained a serious concern, and there was still so much we did not know. We were trying to process the diagnosis, understand the reports, and prepare ourselves for whatever the doctors might tell us next. Yet, in the middle of all this uncertainty, something happened that gave us a little hope. Mubashir began walking again. The doctors had prescribed certain medicines, and after starting the treatment, we noticed this unexpected improvement. A child who had struggled so much with movement was beginning to walk again. I cannot describe how significant that change felt to us. Only a short time earlier, we had been struggling to get him up a few steps. We had watched him depend on a walking stick and had worried about whether he would ever move comfortably again. Now, he was walking. It did not mean that his kidney problem had disappeared. We still faced a serious diagnosis, and the biopsy results and further medical care remained important. But seeing him walk again gave us something we desperately needed: hope. We thanked Allah for this small but precious improvement. We did not know what the coming days would bring. We did not know how complicated his treatment might become or how much our family would have to endure. But for that moment, I could look at my son and see him taking steps again. And sometimes, when a mother is frightened for her child's life, even a small step forward can feel like an enormous blessing. Our struggle was far from over. In fact, we were only beginning to understand the journey that lay ahead.

Chapter 11: Searching for Hope

After Mubashir's biopsy, we brought him home and continued giving him his prescribed medicines. The biopsy had caused him some discomfort, but it also revealed the extent of the damage to his kidneys. We were devastated to learn that his kidney tubules were also not functioning properly. My husband and I were deeply distressed. He would often cry, and as a mother, I was equally worried about my child. Yet, we tried not to lose hope. We wanted to find a good doctor who could guide us towards a better treatment option. What confused us was that Mubashir appeared to be improving physically. He had started walking again, and his general health seemed better. These visible changes encouraged us to keep searching for a solution. Someone advised us to visit the Sindh Institute of Urology and Transplantation (SIUT). My husband took Mubashir there, hoping we would receive the guidance we needed. However, after waiting in a long queue for approximately three to four hours, we were told that the transplant unit was for patients who were already undergoing dialysis. We had very little knowledge of the hospital's system and did not know where else to turn. My husband returned home feeling disappointed. We were frightened of dialysis and desperately wanted to avoid putting our child through such a difficult process if another option was available. We then changed doctors and continued treatment. The doctor encouraged us to trust Allah and not lose hope. He explained that a transplant would ultimately be necessary, but he would try to delay dialysis for as long as possible. We continued treatment for another two months, hoping Mubashir's condition would stabilise. Unfortunately, his creatinine continued to rise. It increased from around 3 to 4, then 5, and eventually reached 8 within approximately three months. Despite everything we had tried, his kidney function continued to deteriorate. My husband finally decided that we needed to consult a transplant specialist. We could no longer afford to wait without a clear plan for our son's future. We made an appointment with Dr Tasaddaq, hoping that this time we would find the right guidance. Our search for hope had brought us to another important turning point.

Chapter 12: Improvements That Gave Us Hope

When we met Dr Tasaddaq, he carefully examined Mubashir, assessed his condition, and changed his medicines according to his needs. Alhamdulillah, his general health began to improve. His urea levels decreased, and his parathyroid hormone (PTH) levels gradually returned to the normal range. These changes brought us considerable relief. However, his creatinine remained a serious concern. Although it sometimes stabilised or decreased slightly, the overall trend continued to worry us. We were learning a difficult lesson: a patient can appear healthier on the outside while the underlying medical condition continues to progress. One of the most remarkable changes was the improvement in Mubashir's hands and legs. When his legs began to bend, he was studying in Class Eight. They gradually developed a shape resembling the letter V, making it difficult for him to walk. For approximately three to four months, he could not walk at all. We had also consulted an endocrinologist when his hand began to bend. We were worried about these physical changes and wanted to understand what was happening to his body. With time, however, we began noticing improvements. His hand started straightening, and his legs also began to improve without surgery. Eventually, both legs, which had previously appeared bent, looked much straighter. His height increased, and his overall physical health improved. As his mother, I found these changes deeply moving. I often felt that they were a special blessing from Allah. After watching my child struggle, seeing these improvements gave us renewed hope and strength. Yet, while his physical condition improved, his creatinine levels remained high. We were grateful for every positive change, but we knew that we still had a serious medical challenge to face. During this period, Mubashir was also determined not to give up on his education. Because he could not walk properly, he had stopped attending school for several months. We decided to continue his education at home through homeschooling. I am deeply grateful to his school and teachers for their cooperation. They provided educational materials, offered support, and even gave us gifts. Their kindness made a difficult period easier for our family. Mubashir continued studying at home and appeared for his bimonthly examinations, half-yearly examinations, and mock examinations. Eventually, he also attempted his Class Nine final examinations in 2026. At that time, his urea level was close to 200, and he was facing numerous medical and physical challenges. The examination papers were difficult, but he still gathered the courage to attempt every paper. For me, his achievement was not simply about marks. It was about his determination to continue despite everything he was experiencing. He had struggled to walk, endured ongoing treatment, and faced considerable uncertainty about his health. Nevertheless, he did not surrender. Alhamdulillah, he continued his education and demonstrated extraordinary determination. Throughout this journey, we also managed the financial burden of his treatment. We purchased his medicines with our own money, and the additional expenses affected our household finances. I started giving tuition classes at home to help manage the costs. My husband continued working hard, and by the grace of Allah, we found ways to meet Mubashir's needs. We were grateful for every small improvement, every supportive person, and every opportunity to continue his treatment. But one major concern remained: his kidneys were still failing.

Chapter 13: Preparing for Transplant

Despite the improvements in Mubashir's general health, his creatinine levels continued to rise. Eventually, his creatinine reached around 10 and showed no sign of stabilising permanently. Dr Tasaddaq advised us that it was time to move towards a kidney transplant. We had tried different treatments, followed medical advice, and held on to hope for as long as possible. Now, we had to face the reality that transplantation was becoming necessary. The doctor began advising us about the investigations and tests required before the procedure. My husband and I started arranging the money and completing the necessary investigations. We knew that the transplant process involved extensive preparation, and we wanted to move forward without unnecessary delays. By this stage, we had already spent a considerable amount on Mubashir's medicines, consultations, and treatment. The required tests brought another substantial expense. We arranged for the investigations to be completed within approximately one month. Although we used a medical institution where the costs were comparatively lower, the total expense still placed considerable pressure on our finances. Nevertheless, we managed to arrange the money and complete the tests. Providing for our child was never something we considered a burden. However, we could not ignore the financial challenges. We had to manage our household responsibilities while ensuring that Mubashir received the medical care he needed. I continued giving tuition classes, and my husband continued doing everything he could to support our family. By Allah's grace, we kept finding ways to move forward. Looking back, I realise how many challenges we had faced before reaching this stage. We had experienced fear, disappointment, uncertainty, and moments of hope. We had watched Mubashir's physical condition improve while his kidney function continued to deteriorate. We had also watched him continue his education despite serious health problems, and we had learned the importance of perseverance, family support, and trust in Allah. Now, we were preparing for a major turning point in his life. The journey towards transplantation had begun in earnest. We knew that the road ahead would bring its own challenges, but we were determined to do everything within our power to give Mubashir another chance at a healthier life. We had come a long way, and we were ready to take the next step.

To be continued in Chapter 14.

Chapter 14: A Door Opens at SIUT

It was at this point in our journey that Dr Tasaddaq gave us a letter advising us to seek financial assistance from the government. The estimated cost of the transplant was around thirty-five lakh rupees. My husband’s employer provided hospitalisation benefits, but the amount available through his organisation was not enough to cover the entire expense. We would still have to arrange the remaining money ourselves. We decided to apply for government assistance. For this purpose, we went to the City Secretariat and submitted our application. We hoped that the government would help us arrange the treatment Mubashir needed. We were then told that we would have to obtain written confirmation from both Jinnah Hospital and SIUT stating that the required treatment could not be provided there. My husband began travelling tirelessly between the hospitals. He went to Jinnah Hospital, where he was informed that the treatment could not be arranged there. He then went to SIUT, hoping to obtain the necessary documentation. That visit changed the direction of our journey. At SIUT, my husband met a very kind, graceful, and highly competent female doctor. She listened to him and immediately offered to begin the process. My husband explained that he had visited SIUT before but had been turned away because Mubashir was not undergoing dialysis. We had understood that the transplant unit dealt only with patients who were already receiving dialysis. However, the doctor reassured him that this was not the case. She explained that they could begin the necessary investigations. And so, a new chapter of Mubashir’s journey began. All his tests were started again, including investigations that we had already paid for elsewhere. SIUT is an institution that works with government support and public donations. May Allah protect it, preserve it, and allow it to continue serving humanity for generations to come. The work carried out there brings light into people's lives during their darkest moments. It gives hope to families who have almost run out of options, eases suffering, and brings smiles back to faces that have known nothing but worry. For us, SIUT became a place where we could finally see a way forward. The Endless Journey of Tests The transplant investigations were not completed in a day or two. It was a long, exhausting process that required repeated visits to the hospital. My husband and Mubashir had to travel to SIUT almost every day. My husband would take Mubashir to the hospital, return home with him, and then go back to his office to complete his work. I have immense respect for my husband for the way he handled those difficult days. He would manage the hospital visits, take care of Mubashir, and still fulfil his professional responsibilities. His colleagues supported him throughout this period, especially his superiors and managers. Their cooperation made it possible for him to continue managing both responsibilities. Of course, not everyone made things easier for us. Even during such a difficult period, there were people who added to our worries. But I came to understand something deeply: when Allah decides to help someone, no obstacle can ultimately prevent His plan from unfolding. My husband remained determined. He refused to give up, and we continued placing our trust in Allah. We believed that if Allah was with us, the world would eventually open doors for us. We might not understand every difficulty along the way, but we trusted that He would guide us towards what was best for our child. That faith kept us moving forward. SIUT continued conducting Mubashir’s investigations. The doctors needed to be completely satisfied that the donor was medically suitable and that the transplant could proceed safely. The donor underwent extensive testing, and Mubashir underwent his own investigations as well. It was a demanding process, but we understood why it was necessary. A kidney transplant is a major procedure, and every important detail needs to be evaluated carefully before the doctors can proceed. Eventually, we were told that the necessary assessments had been completed satisfactorily, and we felt that we were finally getting closer to our goal. We were overjoyed. After so many months of uncertainty, it seemed that things were finally moving in the right direction. But our journey still had another unexpected turn waiting for us.

Chapter 15: The Day We Had to Face Dialysis

One day, we discovered that Mubashir’s file had been returned. We were confused and worried. After all the tests, the hospital visits, and the effort we had invested, we wanted to understand what had gone wrong. My husband went back to seek clarification. During this stage, we received guidance from Dr Ijaz, a nephrologist at SIUT. I want to acknowledge him here because of the kindness and compassion he showed Mubashir. He took the time to understand our child's situation and explain the medical decisions to us. His care was not limited to Mubashir; he also showed concern for the many underprivileged patients who came to him seeking help. I have immense respect for him and for every doctor at SIUT who serves patients with such dedication. Dr Ijaz explained that dialysis was a necessary part of the process in Mubashir’s case. According to the medical team, a pre-emptive transplant could not proceed at SIUT without dialysis first. And so, the journey we had tried so hard to avoid took an unexpected turn. We had spent so long hoping that Mubashir would receive his transplant before ever needing dialysis. The thought of seeing our child undergo it had frightened us from the beginning. But now, we had to accept that this was the step his medical team considered necessary before moving forward. A Mother's Fear The day Mubashir was prepared for his dialysis catheter was one of the most difficult days for me emotionally. I kept thinking about how frightened he had once been of even the smallest medical procedures. I remembered how he would cry when he had to take antibiotics. I remembered the first time we took him for a test and how strongly he resisted. In my distress, I had even slapped him when he refused to undergo that test. It was a painful moment in our journey, and I remember how frightened and overwhelmed we both were. Yet now, the same child was facing something far more difficult. Mubashir had to undergo the placement of a dialysis catheter, commonly called a DL in our family conversations, and begin dialysis. I was at home, worrying about him. I wondered how he would react. Would he cry when he returned? Would he tell me how much it hurt? Would he be frightened? I imagined him coming home and saying, “Mama, they put this in me. It hurts.” But when Mubashir returned, I was astonished by his courage. He had endured the procedure calmly. The child who had once been frightened of routine tests had faced this major step with remarkable composure. I could hardly believe it. I felt that Allah had given him a strength I had not even known he possessed. Perhaps my prayers had been answered in a way I had never imagined. Before this stage, I had prayed that Allah would make Mubashir brave, like Khalid ibn al-Walid, known for his courage. When I saw how calmly my son faced his treatment, I felt deeply grateful that he had been given such strength. Mubashir's Courage Through Dialysis The daily tests had not broken his spirit. He continued to face each new procedure with patience and courage. He underwent the catheter placement and began dialysis, bearing the challenges of treatment with a strength that made me proud of him. I often think that illness demands a kind of struggle of its own. A patient must endure uncertainty, discomfort, repeated hospital visits, and changes to everyday life. In our faith, we find comfort in the belief that suffering endured with patience can carry great spiritual meaning. Mubashir showed courage at every stage. He did not allow his medical condition to define his entire life. He had continued his education despite his difficulties, and now he was facing dialysis with a determination that surprised even me. His journey taught me that courage does not always mean feeling no fear. Sometimes, courage is simply continuing forward when the next step is difficult. And that was exactly what my son was doing.

Chapter 16: The Strength That Kept Our Family Going

Someone reading our story might imagine that our home was always filled with tears, that my husband and I spent every day crying, and that our family lived in constant sadness. Of course, as parents, we were worried. We were dealing with a serious illness, uncertainty about the future, and considerable financial and emotional pressure. But our home was not a place of constant despair. Alhamdulillah, Allah had blessed us with a sense of peace that helped us endure those difficult circumstances. We continued to live, talk, smile, and support one another. We tried not to let Mubashir's illness take away every moment of happiness from our family. We knew that we had responsibilities to fulfil and that we had to remain strong for our child. My husband continued working and managing the hospital visits. Mubashir continued facing his treatment. I continued caring for my family and doing whatever I could to support them. There were difficult days, but we did not allow fear to become the centre of our lives. We trusted Allah to guide us. Our faith did not mean that we knew what would happen next. It meant that even when we could not see the entire road ahead, we believed that Allah would help us take the next step. We had already experienced so many unexpected turns. We had watched Mubashir's physical health improve while his kidney function deteriorated. We had searched for doctors, changed treatments, struggled financially, and eventually accepted the need for transplantation. Now, dialysis had become part of his journey. Yet even then, we continued to hope. We reminded ourselves that this was not the end of the story. It was another stage we had to pass through before reaching our destination. Looking back, I feel immense gratitude for my husband's determination, Mubashir's courage, the doctors who guided us, the people who supported us, and the institution that gave us a path forward. Above all, I am grateful to Allah for giving our family the strength to continue. We did not know exactly how long the journey ahead would be, or what other challenges we might encounter. But we believed that Allah was holding our hands and guiding us forward. We trusted that we would not lose our way, Insha'Allah. And that belief became one of our greatest sources of strength. We were still on the journey, but we were no longer standing at the beginning, wondering where to turn. We had found our path, and we were determined to keep walking until we reached the destination we had prayed for.

Chapter 17: The Final Preparations

After everything we had been through, another important stage of Mubashir’s journey began when he was called to SIUT for a cystoscopy. He was admitted to the hospital for four days for the procedure. At first, there was a misunderstanding. We thought that his admission meant that his kidney transplant was finally going to take place. We were overjoyed and immediately shared the news with our family and others. But that was not the case. His admission was for the cystoscopy, not the transplant. When the procedure was completed, we felt disappointed once again. We had been so excited, only to realise that we still had another distance to cover before Mubashir could receive his new kidney. His dialysis continued, and so did our journey. He underwent his first dialysis, followed by another session during the period surrounding his cystoscopy. Then came another crucial stage. More investigations were required, and we were told that we needed to arrange fifteen bottles of blood. This was the moment when I realised that we would have to ask other people for help. Until then, my husband and I had tried to manage as much as possible ourselves. But now, we needed the support of our family, friends, and people around us. Naturally, the first people we approached were our relatives. We asked my brothers and my husband's brothers for help, and they responded generously. They donated blood and helped us meet this important requirement. We also arranged blood through our friends. There is one person whose contribution I especially want to acknowledge: my husband's brother had a driver who went out of his way to help us. He arranged five bottles of blood for Mubashir. What touched me most was that he did not allow differences of caste, community, colour, or background to stand in the way of helping another human being. He helped us when we desperately needed it, and I will always remember his kindness. I salute his humanity and generosity. Alhamdulillah, with everyone's support, we eventually managed to arrange the required blood. Preparing for the Most Important Step The next stage involved Mubashir's interview and psychological counselling. SIUT was preparing us not only medically but also mentally for the major procedure ahead. We were guided through the responsibilities, expectations, and challenges associated with transplantation. There were medical and legal formalities to complete as well. My husband worked hard to sort out the necessary documentation. We were also grateful for the assistance provided through NADRA's online systems and portal, which helped make some of the documentation process easier and faster. Every completed form, every investigation, and every step forward brought us closer to our goal. Finally, the day arrived when Mubashir was admitted for his kidney transplant. We had waited for this moment for so long. It was difficult to believe that we had finally reached the stage we had been praying for. Yet, even then, the journey was not over. Mubashir underwent further dialysis sessions during his admission. Approximately five additional sessions were carried out as part of his treatment before the transplant. We were told that his transplant was expected to take place on Monday. We hoped that this would finally be the day when our long journey of waiting would lead to the moment we had prayed for. But at SIUT, as we came to understand, being admitted and prepared for surgery did not guarantee that the operation would take place on a particular day. We were about to experience another test of our patience.

Chapter 18: Three Days of Waiting

At SIUT, transplant operations were organised according to medical priorities and the availability of suitable conditions for surgery. We learned that a list of five patients could be prepared, with the most urgent case placed first and other patients kept as backups. Even after a patient had been prepared and taken towards the operating theatre, the operation could still be postponed depending on medical circumstances and whether all the necessary conditions were favourable. This meant that no family could be completely certain that the operation would take place on the expected day. For us, this uncertainty was emotionally exhausting. Monday came, but Mubashir's transplant did not take place. My husband was deeply disappointed. We waited for Tuesday, hoping that the situation would be different. But the operation did not take place that day either. Again, my husband was disappointed. Then came Wednesday, and once more, the transplant did not happen. Every postponement brought a fresh wave of uncertainty. We had come so far, completed so many tests, arranged the blood, managed the expenses, and prepared ourselves mentally. Yet we still had to wait. It was difficult not to wonder how much longer we would have to endure this uncertainty. But my husband did not give up. He remained determined and went back to speak with the doctor. He wanted to understand what was happening and whether there was anything we needed to do. The doctor reassured him that he should not worry. They were there to help us, and they would continue working towards the operation. Those words mattered to us. We understood that the doctors had to consider medical priorities and the safety of every patient. Although the delays were difficult for our family, we knew that surgery could only proceed when the medical team considered the conditions appropriate. My Gratitude to SIUT This experience strengthened my belief that institutions like SIUT deserve our support. I often think that there should be more institutions like it in our country, and that we should contribute generously towards their work so that they can help even more patients. Every transplant represents more than a medical procedure. It represents hope for a family that has spent months or years watching a loved one struggle with illness. It represents another opportunity for someone to live a healthier life. I also want to acknowledge Dr Tahir and the transplant team at SIUT. May Allah bless people like him and enable more dedicated professionals to emerge in Pakistan, so that more families can receive the care they desperately need. Our country needs more places where people can find treatment, dignity, and hope regardless of their financial circumstances. We had seen how much effort the doctors and hospital staff were putting into their work. We had also experienced how difficult it was to wait when the future of our child depended on the next step. Still, we kept praying. By this stage, we had learned that patience was not simply about waiting quietly. It was about continuing to believe, even when the outcome remained uncertain. We had already overcome so many obstacles that giving up was never an option. And then, finally, Thursday arrived. After three days of disappointment and waiting, the medical team prepared Mubashir for his kidney transplant. Even that morning, a question remained in our minds: Would the operation really happen this time? We were hopeful, but we were also afraid of being disappointed again. We had learned not to take anything for granted until the doctors confirmed it. This time, however, after all the preparations, the moment we had waited for finally arrived. On Thursday, Mubashir's kidney transplant took place. Alhamdulillah. The long wait had finally brought us to the day we had prayed for.

Chapter 19: The Power of Prayers

The day of Mubashir's transplant was unlike any other day in our lives. The people who were going to the hospital left in the morning, at around 8:30 a.m., and returned at approximately 6:00 p.m. Because of the hospital's rules and the arrangements inside SIUT, not all our family members could accompany us or remain near the operating theatre. The space was limited, and there were restrictions on how many people could be present. Some family members waited in the hospital's waiting area, while I remained at home, praying for my son. The hours felt long. There was very little I could do except pray and place my trust in Allah. I kept asking Allah to protect Mubashir, guide the doctors, and bring my child safely through the operation. Our relatives were praying too. Some were sitting on their prayer mats, crying and asking Allah to protect Mubashir. Others offered their prayers and voluntary acts of worship, hoping for his recovery. His paternal aunt and uncle, who lived far away from us, were also with us in spirit. Although they could not be physically present, they never abandoned us during this difficult time. While Mubashir was in need of help, they were making charitable donations on his behalf and praying for him. My sister-in-law stood by me throughout the journey as well. She supported me with remarkable courage and kindness, even though she was not physically present with us. We remained connected virtually, sharing our worries, our prayers, and our hopes. Distance did not prevent us from standing together. We were united in our prayers for Mubashir. A Different Kind of Wealth This experience taught me something that I will always remember. We often measure wealth in terms of money, property, or the amount we have in our bank accounts. But I have come to believe that a person's true wealth is also reflected in the prayers they receive from others. When your child is going through a major operation, money cannot give you complete peace of mind. You need medical care, of course, but you also need hope, compassion, and people who sincerely wish for your child's recovery. On that day, we received so many prayers. People who could not offer us money offered their prayers. Those who could not come to the hospital stood with us through their faith and concern. Some gave charity, while others spent time praying for Mubashir. I felt that these prayers were among the greatest gifts we could receive. Alhamdulillah, Mubashir was surrounded by the goodwill of so many people. The News We Had Been Waiting For While Mubashir was in surgery, we waited anxiously for news. Eventually, we learned that he had regained consciousness after the operation. Alhamdulillah, my husband was also doing well. The relief we felt is difficult to describe. After months of medical appointments, rising creatinine levels, dialysis, financial struggles, repeated tests, and days of uncertainty, our son had finally undergone his transplant. I was also grateful to SIUT for the way the staff supported our family. They helped arrange communication between my husband and me while he was in the intensive care unit, allowing us to speak after he regained consciousness. They also helped me speak to Mubashir. Those conversations meant so much to me. When you are a mother waiting at a distance, even a few words from your child can bring immense comfort. Being able to hear from Mubashir after the operation helped ease some of the fear that had built up inside me. The hospital staff had supported us at every stage, and I remain deeply grateful for their care and cooperation. That day, I realised once again that a difficult journey is rarely completed by one person alone. It takes doctors, nurses, family members, friends, donors, and countless people whose contributions may never be fully visible. Above all, we continued to believe that Allah had carried us through every stage. We had prayed for guidance when we did not know where to go. We had prayed for strength when dialysis became necessary. We had prayed for patience when the transplant was postponed. And now, we were praying with gratitude after the operation. Alhamdulillah, the transplant we had spent so long hoping and working for had finally taken place. Our journey was not yet over. Recovery and the days ahead would bring their own challenges. But on that day, we allowed ourselves to feel the relief of having reached this remarkable milestone. We had arrived at a moment that once seemed so far away. And we had reached it together, with faith, perseverance, the kindness of people, and countless prayers.

Chapter 20: A New Beginning, Not the End

By the grace and mercy of Allah, and with the support of SIUT, the treatment for which we had worked so hard to save money finally became completely free of cost. We had spent so much time worrying about how we would manage the expenses. We had worked hard, saved whatever we could, and tried to prepare ourselves for the financial burden ahead. Yet, by Allah’s kindness and SIUT’s support, we did not have to pay for any of the tests. There were no charges for the transplant surgery, nor were we charged for our stay at the hospital. It was an enormous relief for our family. However, SIUT gave us much more than financial support. It gave us care, attention, compassion, and a sense of security during one of the most difficult periods of our lives. I have seen private healthcare institutions where patients are charged substantial amounts of money, yet the care and attention they receive do not always reflect what they have paid. Sometimes, patients and their families are left feeling that money matters more than their suffering. I know that not every private institution is the same, but the kindness and dedication we experienced at SIUT were unlike anything I had encountered before. The doctors, nurses, and other members of the team treated my son and my husband with a level of care that I will always remember. They did not make us feel that our worth depended on our ability to pay. They treated us with humanity, patience, and respect. For this reason, I will always be grateful to SIUT. The institution not only made Mubashir’s transplant possible without placing the financial burden of the procedure on us, but also looked after him throughout his treatment. The care provided to my son and my husband was something I will never forget. I would also like to acknowledge DOW, another institution that, in my understanding, is doing valuable work for people. Institutions such as these become sources of hope for families facing difficult circumstances. They bring light into lives that might otherwise feel surrounded by darkness. We should appreciate such institutions, support their efforts wherever possible, and contribute to helping others whenever we have the opportunity. When an institution works to make healthcare accessible to people who need it, its contribution goes far beyond medical treatment. It gives families hope, dignity, and the courage to continue.

Why I Shared Our Journey

I have shared our journey for a reason. Perhaps another mother will read these words while sitting beside her sick child. Perhaps a father will be struggling to understand a medical report, searching for a suitable doctor, or wondering how his family will afford treatment. Perhaps someone will feel that the road ahead is too difficult and that there is no way forward. If even one family finds guidance, encouragement, or hope through our experience, I will feel that sharing our story was worthwhile. I know that every patient's circumstances are different, and no two journeys are exactly alike. Still, I hope our experience reminds other families that they should continue seeking appropriate medical care, ask questions when they do not understand something, and explore the support available to them. Above all, I hope they remember that a difficult beginning does not necessarily mean a hopeless ending. And now, as I bring this part of our story to a close, I have one request for all those who read it. Please remember my son, Mubashir, in your prayers. The Journey Is Not Over

Although the transplant surgery has taken place, our journey is far from over. In many ways, a new journey has only just begun—a new life, accompanied by new responsibilities, precautions, and challenges. The days and months ahead will require patience, discipline, and constant care. Mubashir must take his prescribed immunosuppressant medicines regularly to reduce the risk of his body rejecting the transplanted kidney. We must follow his transplant team's instructions carefully, ensure that he attends his follow-up appointments, and remain alert to any concerns that need medical attention. This responsibility rests not only on Mubashir but on our entire family. Thankfully, Mubashir has understood the importance of these precautions very well. He knows that his new kidney is a precious gift and that looking after it requires commitment. We, too, are doing our best to understand our responsibilities and provide him with the care he needs. There will be adjustments to make, routines to follow, and moments when we may feel worried again. We know that recovery is not simply about leaving the hospital. It is about learning to live carefully, following medical advice, and taking each new day as it comes. But this time, we are moving forward with gratitude for what we have already overcome and hope for what lies ahead. Alhamdulillah, we have come this far. A Prayer for Every Family

Before I end this part of our story, I pray that Allah protects you and your children, grants you good health and well-being, and blesses every person who is struggling with illness with complete healing and relief. May Allah reward every doctor, nurse, donor, well-wisher, and compassionate person who helps another human being during a difficult time. May He bring ease to families who are worried about the health of their children, and may He give strength to parents who are trying to remain hopeful even when they are frightened. And I humbly request that you keep Mubashir in your prayers as he begins this new chapter of his life. Please pray that Allah protects his transplanted kidney, grants him a healthy and peaceful life, and gives our family the strength and wisdom to fulfil the responsibilities that lie ahead. To Every Parent Who Is Struggling There is one final message I want to share with every parent who may be facing a difficult situation. If hardship enters your life, remember that Allah has entrusted you with the responsibility of being a mother or father. That responsibility is not only about loving your children when everything is going well. It is also about finding the courage to stand beside them when life becomes uncertain. I know that there are moments when worry becomes overwhelming. There are times when you feel exhausted, frightened, and unsure of what to do next. You may cry, you may feel helpless, and you may wonder how you will find the strength to continue. But please do not allow fear to convince you that there is no way forward. You do not have to be strong every moment, and you do not have to hide your emotions. What matters is that, after those difficult moments, you try to take the next step. Seek help, ask questions, look for solutions, and keep your trust in Allah. When we remain trapped in worry, it can become difficult to see the possibilities that still exist. But when we gather ourselves and take even one small step forward, we may begin to discover opportunities we could not see before. Throughout our journey, I learned that we do not always need to know the entire path before taking the first step. Sometimes, we simply need the courage to begin and the faith to continue.

Allah opens doors in ways we may never have imagined. Help can come from unexpected people, solutions can emerge when we least expect them, and a path that once seemed impossible can gradually become clearer. So, dear parents, please do not lose hope. Take the first step. Have faith in Allah. Keep searching for a way forward, and do not give up on your children or on the possibility of a better tomorrow. I cannot promise that every journey will unfold exactly as we wish, but I believe that faith, perseverance, appropriate action, and the support of others can help us face even the most difficult circumstances. Our story is proof that a long and painful journey can also contain moments of mercy, kindness, unexpected help, and hope. Our journey continues. Mubashir's new life has begun, and we pray that the days ahead bring health, stability, and countless blessings. May Allah keep us all in His protection, grant complete healing to every sick child, and give every struggling parent the courage to take that first step. Because sometimes, the first step is all we can take—but with faith, determination, and Allah's mercy, it can lead us towards a destination we once thought was beyond our reach.

Ameen.