Tribute to Naseema Akhter who rewrote her prognosis

As a geriatrician, I meet patients who teach me lessons no medical textbook can ever fully capture. One such person will remain etched in my memory, not because of the severity of her illness, but because of the strength with which she lived every single day. She was living with a terminal condition, yet her spirit was far more alive than most perfectly healthy people I know.

She had the kind of diagnosis that makes even the most seasoned doctor pause. Prognosis charts, medical projections, survival statistics, they all whispered the same grim forecast. But she never listened to those whispers. Instead, she chose a different soundtrack for her life: faith, gratitude, generosity and a quiet but unshakable willpower.

Every appointment with doctors began with a smile, followed by greetings not just to us (doctors) but to the nurses, the attendants and even the hospital guard. She addressed each person with warmth and affection as though she were the host and we were her guests. She radiated humility, yet carried an inner strength that could outshine the brightest day.

She was a neighbour everyone wished for, a relative whose presence was a gift and a mother whose children never left her side. In a time when many terminally ill patients feel isolated, she lived surrounded by love. This was not by accident, it was the result of years of nurturing relationships, investing in people and living with sincerity.

Even in her final breath, the name of Allah and the Kalima Shahada rested on her lips, a blessing granted to only a rare few chosen souls.

Medical Mystery or Human Determination?

From a clinical perspective, her journey was fascinating. She consistently outlived every medical timeline given to her. Studies have long shown that resilience, the ability to adapt positively despite adversity, has measurable effects on health outcomes.

Research in Psychosomatic Medicine has linked optimism and strong social bonds with improved immune function, reduced inflammation and even better cancer survival rates. Similarly, a 2019 Lancet Psychiatry review found that patients with higher psychological resilience often tolerate treatment better and have improved quality of life, even in advanced illness.

In her case, faith acted as an anchor. The physiological effects of spiritual well-being are real, lowered cortisol levels, improved cardiovascular function and better coping mechanisms in chronic disease. But beyond biochemistry, there was a sense of acceptance in her that made each day worth living. She never saw herself as a victim of disease; she saw herself as a servant of Allah whose every breath was still part of His plan.

Her Caregivers

Her children were always present, at home, in the clinic, at the hospital. This level of family engagement is not the norm in many modern households, where caregiving is often outsourced or reduced to occasional visits.

From a geriatrician’s viewpoint, the difference was striking. Continuous family presence has been shown to improve medication adherence, reduce hospital readmissions and enhance emotional well-being in terminally ill patients. A Journal of Palliative Medicine study in 2020 noted that family involvement directly correlates with lower patient anxiety and better symptom management. Her caregivers didn’t just “attend” to her, they celebrated her. They engaged her in conversation, and made sure she felt valued, not burdensome.

Lessons for Patients

Never Let a Diagnosis Define You, your illness is a chapter, not your whole story.

Faith and Meaning Matter, whether through religion, philosophy or personal purpose, anchoring yourself in something bigger than your illness changes the way you face it.

Keep the Social Circle Alive, isolation weakens the spirit and the spirit influences the body. Stay connected.

Lessons for Caregivers

Presence Over Presents. Being physically and emotionally there matters more than material offerings.

Maintain Dignity. Avoid infantilising the patient; respect their autonomy and decisions.

Shared Laughter is Medicine. A light conversation or a family joke can be as therapeutic as a pill.

Medicine Alone is Not Enough

Her life reminded me that medicine, in its purest form, is not only about prescribing the right drug or performing the right procedure. It’s about understanding the complex interplay of biology, psychology, spirituality and social connection.

We talk about “patient-centered care” in conferences, but she lived it, and made us live it with her.

I often think of her as a living proof that healing does not always mean curing. In geriatric medicine, especially in terminal illness, the goal is not always to extend life at any cost, that nobody can do, but to enhance the quality of whatever life remains. And she did that, not through extraordinary medical interventions, but through ordinary acts done with extraordinary grace.

Her story is my reminder that resilience is not an abstract psychological term, it’s a daily practice. It’s choosing to greet your doctor with affection even on your worst day. It’s sharing your food with guests when your own appetite is failing. It’s thanking Allah for another sunrise, knowing it could be your last.

When she finally left this world, it wasn’t in defeat. She left having taught all of us, doctors, nurses, family and friends, that the human spirit, when fortified by faith and love, can walk gracefully through even the darkest valleys. Because sometimes, the best medicine is not in the vial or the tablet. It is in the human heart.