Need for Stroke Rehabilitation Centres in Kashmir

In March 2024, my father-in-law suffered a devastating brain haemorrhage. It was a moment of sheer helplessness, with thoughts swirling through our minds, leaving us with a deep sense of uncertainty. We rushed him immediately to SKIMS, where the Neurology department became our second home for the rest of the month.

For an entire week, we lived on edge, unsure if he would survive or not and what his life would look like afterward. Each time, whenever seizures struck his brain, our legs used to tremble and we were gripped with fear.

The other families in the ward have had similar stories, each looking at one another with hopeful yet weary eyes. Conversations were tinged with desperation, comparing the severity of strokes, offering hollow reassurances. One family member telling to other that “Yours patient has smaller than mine”, offering a kind of assurance and hope to the family members. Deep down, we all knew that even if the patient survived, their life would never be the same.

This wasn’t the first time I had faced such a difficult situation. During the COVID-19 pandemic, my uncle battled severe pneumonia, despite testing negative for the virus, requiring a prolonged hospital stay. But this time was different, people around us wore expressions of fear, some were crying while some throbbing chests as they witness their beloved ones in pain. My father-in-law’s brain haemorrhage shook me not just with fear for his life, but with the stark realisation of what lay ahead. He survived, but the cost was high: paralysis on the left side of his body.

As I walked the wards of the SKIMS neurology department, I was struck by the overwhelming number of patients like my father-in-law—patients who had survived strokes but were left with profound disabilities. Some had major clots removed, others minor ones, but nearly all struggled with the loss of abilities they once took for granted. Their lives, and those of their families, had changed forever

In Kashmir, like many places, life after a stroke or brain hemorrhage is a long, challenging journey, often misunderstood by outsiders. While friends and relatives offer sympathy and gifts, the patient’s family is left to care for someone who is now dependent, unable to walk, talk, or perform basic tasks. This isn’t a temporary situation but a difficult, uncertain road with no guarantees.

The emotional and physical toll on caregivers is overwhelming. Stroke survivors often live in a haze, far from the lives they once knew, and families face a constant cycle of hope and despair, adjusting to new realities like helping with basic needs when a loved one loses the ability to speak or move.

Reading Atomic Habits during this time helped me understand that recovery is about small, consistent steps. For stroke survivors, tiny victories matter. This is why rehabilitation centers are desperately needed—to give patients the chance to reclaim dignity and restore hope, even when the odds are against them.

In Kashmir, resources are scarce. Families without children or caregivers struggle to find even the basics like hospital beds or wheelchairs. Patients with paralysis are often treated with indifference, their lives reduced to waiting for death, while their families suffer alongside them. The need for rehabilitation centers in Kashmir is urgent. These centers could provide not only physical recovery but also hope, dignity, and a sense of purpose for both patients and their families. With the right support, stroke survivors can regain strength and independence, while their families receive the help they need to care for their loved ones without sacrificing their own well-being.

In a region where healthcare often struggles to meet basic needs, rehabilitation centers could offer a lifeline. I urge the healthcare system to prioritize this. It’s not just about survival—it’s about quality of life after survival.

I remain hopeful that as we continue to push for better healthcare, more people will come to understand the importance of rehabilitation. Every patient, like my father-in-law, deserves the chance to rebuild their life. And every family deserves the support to help them on that journey. 

The author is currently working with Jammu and Kashmir Bank