*The Lost Light* Scene 1: The Emergency Room 108 rushes in a patient and drops him off in the midst of the room. The nurse on duty does her little bit and hands over the piece of paper (trust me, while in the Emergency Room, that particular document might seal your fate) to the CMO. He goes through the referral slip and writes the most irritating, I mean important, line on it, Refer to RSO surgery for the needful. Surgery se yeh madam hai, inke paas jao. But surgery wali Madam was lost in her own thoughts, her random black-and-white thoughts. Maybe all of this was a big mistake. Maybe I should have taken commerce, done MBA, and got a job in some stupid bank where I would get to wear pretty clothes and look pretty all the time. Maybe life wouldnt have been so monotonous, maybe there would have been some place or somewhere in the world where I would find peace, maybe there would have been something that would calm my soul. The mere thought of just disappearing from here, so much dirt and mess, to some colorful place was so endearing. Maybe I was wrong and the OR wasnt my happy place. So many Maybes and I was happy just sulking about my life when a little tiny hand came and touched my hand, saying in the cutest little voice possible, Madam, mere papa ko dekhlo na. Popping out of my not-so-productive turmoil, I saw a 4-year old girl grabbing my hand and leading me towards her father. Scene 2: The Guy A young man of around 26 years lay there in front of me, writhing in pain. Following the routine drill of history and examination and X-rays, the diagnosis of a Volvulus was formulated, which is nothing but a fancy word for the intestine kind of getting rotated on an axis. I couldnt help but notice the multiple tattoos on his chest, and that name of a girl right where his heart was. Then I looked at the woman holding the kid, with tears in her eyes. I asked what her name was, which didn’t match with the one tattooed on his chest. Fine, I admit I was being too curious for a doctor. Maybe she had seen the puzzled look on my face. “Unki behen ka naam hai. I was pleasantly surprised and just smiled before instructing the boys there. Shift him to the OR for emergency surgery. Scene 3: The OR HE had already been informed, and there HE stood, all dressed up in HIS blue shiny scrubs, reminding me of Ninja Turtles. The usual things happened, just the way they always happen, following which his abdomen was opened to find his entire small intestine gangrenous. We stood there, looking at each others faces; actually, that’s when I really understood the reason of surgeons wearing masks. I was worried, but thank God that one of us was calm and composed, like HIS usual self. “Well do a full resection and them reconnect whatever little is left.” And the entire small intestine was removed. Scene 4: Odds Against Honestly, chances of his survival were very bleak. He was, as they say it, hanging by a thread, but the odds totally turned against him when in a teaching hospital, the residents went on a strike. That was almost like shutting down the lifeline of the hospital. Scene 5: Ray Of Hope I happened to go to the ward where this particular guy was during the strike, where I saw HIM, meticulously monitoring his vitals, changing his bandages and checking the multiple tubings. Scene 6: A Stitch In Time HE had detected a leak. The connection that HE had made had leaked. Even though there was a strike, even though the staff was short, even though the OT was made available to HIM around 1 am, HE single-handedly called the OT again and re-operated the patient, stabilising him again. Scene 6: Another Crash His vitals here going haywire, his temperature was off the chart and so were his labs. He was in SEPSIS and the abdominal wound had given way. HE stood by the bed, going over the files repeatedly. Some antibiotics were stepped up and the abdomen was once again decontaminated. Scene 7: All Smiles Hes cold.” The reaction on our faces must have made my senior realise the other meaning of what he had just said. “Oh I mean, his temperature is normal. He hasnt spiked a fever in the last 2 days.” For the first time in days, I saw HIM smile. Scene 8: The Final Touch The open wound has been stitched close on his 23rd post-operative day. As the guy packs his bag to go home, I see his little daughter going upto HIM while HE sits at the nurses station; she keeps her tiny hands on HIS knees and cutely chats away to glory in her most adorable voice as HE listens to her with all HIS attention. Truly, a Kodak moment. Faith restored. Maybes vanished. I realised that maybe the notion of GIFTED HANDS is actually a truth, that maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe doing a pretty surgery is better than looking pretty. Maybe there is light, but we just need someone to show us that there is still hope. Maybe when you are low in your life, the most unexpected people pull you up in the most unexpected way. ~Muskaan Khosla
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 10:00:01 +0000