Meeting a collodion baby

We often tend to think that our hardships are the worst. Ashwin's ill-health in the past two years have often made us wonder why God lets us suffer so. But yesterday at CMC, I saw a 3 1/2-year-old boy with very severe erythroderma, and it made me feel our suffering was nothing in comparison to that family's. Just looking at the child made our eyes well up and our hearts heavy.
Ash had a morning appointment with the endocrinologist, but since we were told that it might materialise only in the evening, we finished an impromptu appointment with his dermatologist - who thought he looked much better, and suggested some new creams and ointments for him. We also got to meet his friend the nurse, who presented him a coffee mug. After lunch, we returned to the crowded waiting area of peadiatric endocrinology.
V suggested that I sit in the waiting area outside which was less crowded since he didnt want the children catching any new infection. The only place available was near a mother and child having a meal on the floor between two rows of chairs. I reluctantly went to the seat in front of them since people can make their meals very messy by spilling half the food and throwing curry leaves and related stuff on the floor. Nor did I want Ash and Mira, who were at their riotous best yesterday fighting non-stop with each other, eyeing his meal curiously.
After a while, I casually looked at the pair having their meal. The kid had his face hidden by a soiled white cap. I quickly noticed that there was something seriously wrong with the skin or what little was visible through his full-sleeved t-shirt. I assumed it was a very bad case of eczema, and couldnt help glancing back again. Shortly after, I asked the lady if it was eczema. She didnt look like she knew any English but she told me he was a collodion baby.
And then we began a long conversation in Tamil, me in my broken Tamil of course. I talked to her because I found her face attractive and the child's condition depressingly helpless. I told her my son's skin had been almost like that and that it had got better now. That gave her hope. She was probably in her early 40s and she was the child's grandmother and the mother had gone to get an appointment. She had given her daughter in marriage to her brother, a custom prevalent in Tamil Nadu. The child's skin condition seemed to be a genetic problem caused by the consanginous relationship of his parents.
She spoke to me about the pain and travails of bringing him up, and that they had purchased an AC to keep him cool. I noticed that she kept his clothes wet - apparently that kept him happy. She told me that the boy's father did not want another child - because if it turned out to be healthy they might ignore this boy, and if it was another baby like this, they couldnt bear the trauma and struggle. As it is, they were spending a good sum every month (and they looked poor) to buy medicines for his eyes and skin.
The mother later showed me a note from another dermatologist, which mentioned that their first child with a similar problem had died. The child looked at me with his watery, upturned eyes and I patted him. He had a ravenous appetite, and had no food allergies, the granny said.
As for his name, she said the boy's father had named him Sivaranjan (or something similar) but according to his star, his name was something else (I cant remember). The child did not have a name for nearly 4 months after his birth and was just called Parimala's baby, because they had not expected him to live long. And then a doctor named him Samuel.
She went away to the window at the far end to keep the boy amused, while we soon made our way to the doctor's room. They were sitting on the steps when we bid them good bye. V later saw them at the lab and at the x-ray room when he took Ash for his blood tests (while me and Mira went to have tea). He checked with me if we could help them somehow. Apparently they were shocked and surprised when he offered some money, and refused at first. V told them it was for the boy, and they called out to him and made him say thanks.
We thought a lot about that poor little child as we drove back. His teary innocent eyes and patchy skin continue to bother us, and I hope God will lessen his misery soon.