I don’t know what to put as a title
for what I am going to write. Today morning I was greeted with the death news
of one of our patients who was admitted in the ICU. He was a young guy who just
touched twenty. An undergraduate student. He was having a normal life till one and
a half year back, when he started having bowel symptoms predominantly
constipation. Sad to say, none could treat his illness nor find what it is. He
died without a diagnosis. He had underwent multiple laboratory and painful
tests in this period and finally he ended up in our casualty with complete
bowel obstruction.
***scene 1 ***
While trying hard to approximate
and close the laparostomy wound on his soulless body, I glanced at his face. He
was looking peaceful. It made me recount my first encounter with him while he
was alive. He was in agony, he wanted to get rid of the giant nasogastric tube
stuffed in his nose. His abdomen was hugely distended and I could see his bowel
creating ripples on it.
***scene 2***
“Why can’t you help me to clean
this bowl? Whom do you think you are…?” my senior colleague was shouting at the
nursing staff, he was at the brim of a breakdown, taking part in surgery after
continuous 48 hrs strenuous duty. The male nurse refused to help him with the
big bowl which was overflowing with stool removed from our patient. His large
intestine was the size of a trumpet and completely filled with semisolid and
solid stools which had to be removed. The staff wanted the orderly to come to
clean up the mess.
After taking part in his first
surgery, I was happy that I chose to become a surgeon. We has made a diverting
stoma which we believed to help him out of obstruction and agony. I was proud
that we could give him the relief from symptoms, which he could not get from
any physician. I was confident in explaining what had we done to him and how it
is going to help him after the surgery to his sister. His sister was a
well-educated girl. She cared so much for him.
***scene 3***
My colleague who was in charge of
his bed for most of the time, told me, that his sister was grabbing his hand
and not letting him go after her brother’s death. She was accusing us for doing
those procedures, which ultimately relieved him from this world. His father was
crying, he was recounting how dearly he looked after his son. The second
surgery was done when his abdominal drain started showing pus, which was not
expected. On second exploration, we found he had developed perforation of bowel
at another site. But his body system had already been crashed that, he never
made it to the normal physiological mode after second surgery.
There are things which are hard to
explain. Like the loss to that family. The way his dreams were crushed. His
eyes were vivid, it said he wanted to live. He wanted to enjoy life. He never
have thought that it was his last journey from home, when he left to the
hospital that morning. His sister had hope. She believed we could save her
brother. But what happened was not expected. But somewhere in my mind I can
recollect his face, after the first surgery, telling me he is feeling better.
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