An unfinished story - part 1

I walked across the murky, depressing entrance hall yet another time. When I had first walked into the hospital, the unpleasant ‘hospital odour’ was what had initially caught my attention. It wasn’t easy getting used to it, but gradually all of us adapted ourselves to the environment and even became a part of it. We began complaining about the melancholy setting less often and tried to make the whole outlook cheerful and optimistic. I walked with hurrying steps because the professor was punctual and did not like students walking into the wards after him.

As I hurried up the steps, I was greeted by my enthusiastic batch mates who were in the midst of a seemingly interesting conversation. I took a quick look across the entire ward. Nothing seemed to have changed. The same patients were in their beds, most of them with blankets pulled over their heads. My batch mates were in groups, some of them checking out the patients’ case sheets, another group chattering enthusiastically about how and why India had lost the cricket match the previous night. There were others standing quietly in corners with eyes and hands buried into their mobile phones. I was standing in the middle of a group engaged in an action-packed argument which seemed to end abruptly with no final result. The professor had just walked into the ward.

It had been a week since we had been posted in the department of cardiothoracic surgery. We were beginning to like our stay in the department for various reasons. The subject was appealing with its various clinical aspects. Moreover, the professor made the classes more meaningful with his discussions and debates. We walked alongside him to each bed, checking on the progress of every patient. After the rounds, we followed him into his cabin, where an unexpected ordeal began. The professor had asked us to examine a patient and present the case details to him that morning, which we had all blissfully forgotten. We were given an appropriate scolding followed by a time limit of ten minutes within which we had to complete the said task. We rushed back into the ward only to be met by a disapproving, uncooperative patient, who simply didn’t want to talk to us. We didn’t have a choice- we put our evil minds at work, to come up with a very convincing ( at least this is what we thought), realistic case sheet. One of my batch mates presented the case with such a straight face and confidence that we thought we had been successful in our attempt. But the professor immediately realised our little prank and it even brought a smile to his face. We realised our mistake and apologised to him, promising that we wouldn’t let him down again. He gave us a lecture regarding our moral responsibilities and medical ethics. We were then asked to examine a female patient before leaving the hospital.

Three of us decided to check out the said female patient, while the rest of the batch bid us goodbye. We entered the female ward, expecting to find an elderly, breathless lady. But we were faced by a puny little girl, who looked at us with anxious eyes and an apprehensive face. It was a cardiothoracic surgery pre-op ward and we wondered what could possibly have happened to this innocent girl. We walked towards her with perplexity and popped the first question- ‘what is your name?’ with as much charm and appeal as we could manage. She flashed us a smile and replied ‘Sushmita’

TO BE CONTINUED….