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He went and knocked at the door of the doctor-on-duty's room. It must have been around 11:30 pm that July night 1990.
The two young doctors emerged and the boy told, "Tamo, my mother in that cabin has vomited blood again."
They came rushing together with the nurse and quickly measured the B.P. "Low! Let's run the drip fast", shouted one of them,
"Sister! Get ready for blood transfusion."
"Doctor, we had just finished transfusing one unit and they don't have any more donor," the nurse quietly replied. The son sat
down helplessly besides his mother. The mother looked at the boy and told with misty eyes, "Ibungo, you have done what you could do.
Don't worry maybe its time for me to go."
Silently into the night, the boy went out into the corridor of the RIMS Hospital in which he had just enrolled as a medical student
6 months ago. Now, he wanted to give up all hope. This must have the fifth time in a matter of 2 months that he had come to
the hospital with his sick mother. She would not just stop vomiting blood every 4/5 days. She also had a big lump in the abdomen.
What it was, how he would know, he was still dissecting the lower limbs of the cadaver in his anatomy classes. He had
even started missing these classes.
That night as the two young doctors went out after giving some instructions for more fluids, the boy literally gave up everything.
Till that night in a matter of 4/5 weeks they had transfused 6 units of freshly donated screened blood, but the bleeding in
the stomach, God knows where exactly, would not just stop.
She would go home after she was stabilized only to return in a matter of one or two weeks with another bout. "How long will
be this night? What would I do tomorrow? Dear Lord I am so helpless," he prayed into the night fighting back his tears and
waited for the daybreak on that summer night unaware of the buzzing mosquitoes around while the city outside slept peacefully.
Like before on some occasions like this he really wished his father was there with him. But he had died in the same Hospital in
the Medicine ward. He died of cancer. And now his mother…
To be continued....
This is a series of article on different aspects of being a doctor as narrated by Dr. Swasti.
Dr. Leimapokpam Swasti Charan writes regularly to e-pao.net
You can contact him at [email protected]
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