In the wonderful days of my innocent childhood, one day, my father walked into our study room and quietly pinned a poster on the wall. After he went away, curious as I always am, I walked upto it and it read as follows:
‘Footprints In The Sand’
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only. This bothered me because I noticed that during the lowest periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord, “You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most difficult periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only. This bothered me because I noticed that during the lowest periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord, “You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most difficult periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
This was perhaps one of my first exposures to the concept of God. You walk, I will walk with you, and when you cannot walk, I will carry you. That day I said to myself, ‘How simple….how uncomplicated……how great’.
A similar story happened with me a few days back in OT 5. But there was a difference. The angel didn’t carry me, I carried the angel.
She was a girl just 2 days old, I don’t even know her name (guess her parents had n't even named her). She was born with a congenital malformation which caused an incompletely formed intestinal tract. Thus there was no opening in the gut lumen (called High ARM with imperforate anus). So she had to be operated in emergency to create an opening (colostomy) or else her intestines could rupture once she started feeding. I met the baby one day prior in the NICU and saw her sleeping peacefully, oblivious to her grave condition and the surgery to follow.
The next day at OT I was told to get the baby in. I went to the pre-op beds and saw ‘angel’ sleeping comfortably in the arms of her mother. I explained to her mother that she will have to give the baby in my arms so that I can take her into the OT. The mother was apprehensive and I was shit scared. Scared because I had no idea about the right way to carry babies and I didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her. She was all of 2.2 kgs by weight (only a little bigger than the rats on my ship). Gathering all the courage in my heart, I took angel in my arms. I could feel her heart beating, at about 120 beats per minute. I don’t know if she felt mine, 240 beats per min almost fibrillating!!
Sensing some change in warmth and utter discomfort in my arms, she opened her eyes. She looked like Neytiri of Avatar, sarcastically gesturing to me how terrible I was in carrying kids. And then she closed her eyes and went off to sleep. Oh how hopeless I felt that moment.
It didn’t take us much effort in putting her to sleep. The surgery began but and soon we realized that the anesthesia ventilator could damage her tender lungs. So I was told to use the Jackson Reese circuit and bag the baby all through the surgery. Oh God….. My heart was skipping beats regularly now. Bagging the 2 day old baby was a nightmare, it was so easy to injure her fragile lungs but ventilating her was necessary to keep her alive and asleep. The surgery took about an hour and I continued to bag her. She needed just about 20 ml gas per breath. It was a unique and satisfying experience to give anesthesia to such a small baby. I’m sure my teacher must have had a quiet laugh at the way I was scared to manage the anesthesia. All went off well and we reversed the baby and I volunteered to hand over the baby to the mother. This time I did a better job I’m sure. It was such a relief to hand over the baby back into the safe arms of her mother.
The baby will need another surgery at the age of 8-9 months. I hope she comes back to us. I’m looking forward to give her anesthesia. This time I assure I ll do a better job.
3 comments:
Very sensitively written. I could feel the tension you experienced while carrying the "angel."
She may not remember who gave her the actual "breaths" of life during the surgery, but she will always bless that doc!
Way to go, Bond. Carry on and God bless.
Very nicely written.. it felt like i was reading your mind.. Dad said right.. he said "vishal is too sensitive.. thinks a lot about his patients.. were as we (other docs), dont even observe the face sometimes.."
Nice post.. expecting more from you :) you know how to put in all your words and form magical sentences :)
She was all of 2.2 kgs by weight (only a little bigger than the rats on my ship).
Wow. I loved reading the post Vishal. Waiting for the next one.
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