Sunday, August 28, 2011


The door flung open. The ward boy stepped in. His face as if he had seen a ghost.

He asked me to come quickly and see a patient who was not doing well.

The door slammed as he stepped out again.

I had just finished seeing all the patients a minute ago. It had taken almost 4 hours. And I was tired.

I sat there thinking what could have gone for a minute. The stood up and walked out.

I reached the patient. His relatives surrounding him. One after the other touching his dressing and then stepping away in horror.

I found that his bogota had burst open due to his persistent cough and his guts were lying on the bed.

Strangely I did not get mortified. I didn't freeze. My mind started working on its own.

It still took me an hour to get the patient to the OT.

But my heart didn't pound once.

I did inform my senior. He couldn't make it.

So it was up to me.

I requested the anesthetist to sedate the patient. But he refused.

So there was I. Alone. With the patient.

And I managed to sew on a new bogota.

All this and I managed to remain calm.

Somehow it made me happy.
Somehow I think I will survive.

The patient didn't though. He expired a few hours later. But his family thanked me when they left. Strange!

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