A new doctor. A new heart. A successful operation.
And then another new patient. Will that operation also succeed?
It was a cloudy, gloomy monsoonish day; the clouds covered the sky as if it wore a blanket, grayish-blackish in color. But it was good, rains are so good. It’s because of the rains that everything turns green and beautiful. I’ve given an account of the rains because of this story’s demand. Because rain has an important role to play in the story.
I was late today because of the incessant rainfall. I didn’t really care about it much, as I had a very important task to do. I’m a junior heart specialist, and I always remember my oath; to help people, come what may. So here I am, trying to revive someone’s unconscious heart.
I work in a multi-specialty hospital in the suburbs of my city. If you wonder who says death is horrific, ask us. We see almost two to three deaths each day.
It was still raining – heavily. It rains a lot these days. But I still love the rain. There comes another, another patient with a heart failure.
Sometimes CPRs, electric shocks, aren’t just enough, you require a lot more, some prayers, some tears, and you have it; a miracle.
The operation was a success. The patient was given a new heart and was put on life support system after seventeen hours. Yes, it took seventeen hours to complete the operation. But watching the relatives celebrate and exclaim with joy is, however, priceless.
I finally joined the others in the cafeteria. I was hungry, tired and exhausted; so it was a good idea to take a break with friends.
“How did it go, Mischa?”
“Oh it was good, my first surgery!”
“Great! When’s your next?”
“Who knows? Maybe today!”
And we all laughed out. Who knew what I said would come true, who knew that I was about to be tested, who knew…
The lights went out. It was raining very heavily. It became very difficult to see outside through the window. We heard the ambulance’s siren and my pager beeped. I went out to check and I saw that the nurse looked very worried as she hurried to reach the ambulance.
“Doctor M-Mischa, the Doctor is not h-here.” She said in a very worried tone.
“Why? Where is he?”
“I d-don’t know, and his is an emergency case.”
“Fine, calm down. We will see.” I said in a confident tone.
I rushed back to the cafeteria, took my friends along (who were juniors like me) and proceeded to the examination room. The ventilator and the LSS were still intact, working on the supplementary power.
“Pump it, come-on!”
I’m trying, but the heartbeats seem to have stopped.”
“One… two… three…”
No use. Even the shocks proved futile. It was just a dead body. But how could I let it go… let him die? I tried again and suddenly… The lights, the ventilator, the LSS, went off. Strange this never happens. But now, it was double trouble. “Nurse, get me a candle. No, two… two candles. She brought them. With trembling hands she lit them and there began our struggle.
“Try, try again, it will start.”
“It’s not starting, Mischa!”
“Okay let me try again.”
“Ready, one… two… three…”
I tried hard to revive the patient manually, but it seemed that God didn’t want to let go of him. I closed my eyes, and for one last time, took a deep breath, made a last moment prayer, and tried again. “One… two… three…”
“Give me that injection now!” And there it went. What a pitiful situation it was! A junior doctor trying to revive a person whom God didn’t wish to let go. I was fighting with God, literally! That still didn’t matter to me, because I was performing my duty.
“Don’t do it Mischa, he is no more.”
“No, he is not, he is not, Joy. Just let me concentrate!”
“He is breathing… nurse! He is breathing!”
“One… two… three…Yes! It’s returning! Jennifer, check the pulse.”
“It’s almost normal!”
“It’s coming, he is…”
“What’s going on here?”
“Doctor Fiume, Doctor Mischa has revived a patient!”
And that was it. Did I just win a lost battle? I came out and informed the relatives that the man was alive. His wife was in tears. She thanked me so much. She joined her hands before me and said that I was no less than God for her. I was their saviour. The man’s daughter, who was as old as I am, thanked me too. I too felt no less than them. I was proud for keeping up my promise and fulfilling my duty prudently.
Today, when I tell people about it or when they get to know about this incident, they congratulate me and admire my decision. I think, sometimes we can change our destiny with our actions and decisions, good or bad. But there is one thing for sure, ‘duty always comes first.’
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This story is Copyright © 2013 by Ayushi Mehrotra. It cannot be reproduced without express written consent. Codey's World web site has written permission to publish this story. No other rights are granted.
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