“CODE BLUE”
someone shouted.
There were sounds of rushing, muffled sobs and wails, metal trolleys banging walls and glass syringes being broken open.
He rushed fastest, asked the relatives to wait outside.
“What’s wrong with him?” insisted the patient’s brother on knowing.
“His heart has stopped. Please wait out we don’t have time” he replied.
The nurses had positioned the patient and started the CPR.
The ugliest sound in the world: the desperate rocking of the bed during a cardiac massage, was heard outside the cabin. The high pitch long beeps of the defibrillator followed by the thuds of a body due to the electric shock initiated prayers even in the hearts of strangers. The relatives of other patients in the ICU waited outside their cabins, watching the faces of those who were crying. Those who could not bear the sight went inside their cabins.
He went on doing the CPR, knowing that the patient was young, and may still respond. The risk of this highly fatal disease to himself and the nursing staff was taken for granted: there is no time to “dress up” for CPR. He was simultaneously ordering the injections to be given. A male nurse took turns and helped him with the cardiac massage.
It is exhausting. Giddy after some time, he looked at the watch. It was about half an hour since the event. Almost nil chances now. He asked the nurse to continue, and came out to inform the relatives.
“He has had a cardiac arrest. We are trying, but it looks difficult” he informed the patient’s brother.
“Why? How come?” the brother shouted as the rest of the family gathered.
“We have been informing you many times. He has been critical. His lungs were not functioning well, his brain has many TB tumors, and his kidneys have been shut due to infection for a long time. It is called multiorgan failure”.
“We don’t know all that, doctor. Save him” said the brother.
Young patient. Fever since over three months. Avoided seeing allopaths for over a month. Diagnosed as multidrug resistant tuberculosis, one of the worst and most difficult diseases to treat. By the time they reached the proper specialist through all the “money saving” channels, it was too late. Almost all Government Hospitals have experts and facilities to treat MDR TB, but somehow people think it is below their dignity to avail of services at Govt hospitals.
The ICU doctor came out after a while. “We are sorry, he could not be revived” he sadly told the relatives.
Then there was a shriek, as the patient’s brother held the doctor by his collar, and slapped him. Exactly the style of Akshay Kumar from some movie. A lady doctor tried to stop the brother, but was held by the women in the family and bestowed with blows and abuses. The security, who had allowed the relatives on humanitarian grounds, regretted it, and desperately tried to control the relatives.
In an hour, they all left.
He washed himself. There was no time to cry, complain, register a case or go to TV channels or press. There were 22 other critical patients in the ICU, and he was in charge. He had to forgive, forget, digest it all. And then there was a perpetual expectation of the society to “understand” the misbehavior of the bereaved.
In a few minutes, another gasping patient came in on the same bed. A young girl with continuous convulsions. He rushed and intubated her, stabilised her. He talked to and pacified her panicked parents.
He had forgotten the slaps, the abuses and the blows he received a few moments ago. Like filmstars who slap qualified doctors on the screen and earn crores for that “entertainment”, he did not deserve a palatial bungalow and luxury cars, but as a life saver who saved hundreds every year, he was doomed to an asylum walled by expectations, criticism, abuse and overwork. Saving lives was “just a duty” not deserving respect or rewards.
The stress that comes from handling daily CPRs, saving lives and declaring deaths for years together cannot be acted by any of the Tom Dick Harrys on screen. Most of them are not even intellectually equipped to perceive the education, hard work and traumatizing effects of daily deaths and allegations that a critical care doctor faces.
While exceptionally literate and mature film personalities like Mr. Amitabh Bachchan and Ms. Lata Mangeshkar have always praised the doctors and spoken highly respectfully about them, most other “Muttonshop” artists have only exemplified their own jealousy about the highly educated doctors, trying to show them down one way or another.
I know of some friends who spend a sad, spoilt day even when they see a funeral passing by. The doctor and the nurse have to face it every day, still carry on dealing with money savers, skimpy, arrogant, abusive and violent relatives reaching the hospital at the last moment. They have to garner a calm and control possible only with great effort. This tells upon the doctors’ and nurses' mental and physical health. Being blamed and held responsible for someone’s death (this has become rampant now: to presume that all deaths are someone’s fault) in spite of trying hard to save them is something no film star, judge or minister will ever understand. Very few doctors or nurses are able to enjoy a genuinely stress free happiness in their personal life.
Of all the doctors and nurses suffering today because of the illiteracy, poverty and defective policy-making in India, the critical care and casualty doctors are the worst sufferers. My heartfelt tear and salute to their unending suffering for humanity. Also a strong appeal to the press, law authorities and the government to ensure that these highly stressed doctors are not assaulted, unnecessarily criticized or abused.
Just imagine a world without casualties or Intensive care services. That is a choice which doctors still retain.
Addendum:
In a country where BMWs are gifted freely for achievements in sports, for hitting sixers, where multiple crore rewards are given away in various social-political- religious functions and festivals, the "prize" for saving and serving life is a sad zilch, often with criticism! Millionaires who walk out of hospitals after "miraculous"recoveries hardly ever send more than a greeting and a box of chocolates, that too with the papers for reimbursement of hospital bills!
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