Neha Suri’s fingers move slowly and with precision across the breast. Strips of Braille-marked tape divide the chest into four parts, each made up of 1cm boxes to guide her. Knowing the exact measurement of her fingers, she feels her way along the chest, subtly altering the pressure to scan the layers of skin for abnormalities. Furnishings are sparse in the government-run health centre but, with her gentle nature, Suri ensures the women lying before her are comfortable.
Breast examinations remain taboo in India. Cultural norms encourage modesty, and there’s also a fear of diagnosis and a stigma associated with cancer, so Suri talks to the women throughout the process, which usually takes between 30 and 40 minutes. Calmly and softly, she explains how she works as someone with a visual impairment. “The first challenge is getting the patient to trust that, as a blind person, I can do this job,” says Suri. “That’s the most difficult part.”
She was born with the chronic hereditary eye condition retinitis pigmentosa, which causes a gradual degeneration of the retina. Now aged 44, she can see small amounts of light and dark and can no longer read, or recognise faces.
