Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Bad times

Yesterday a lady came in. Not someone I saw. But the daughter in law of a very prominent family. She was the second of three deliveries in a row. She arrived just when I was stitching up the first one. As a result, I saw her one hour after she arrived.
One look and I knew we were in trouble.Primi with preterm labour. Fetal heart rate abnormalities. I told the relatives to take her to a place with better facilities. But by the time I had finished wheeling her into labour room and examining her they had made up their mind to stay. It was 1 pm.
I told them we will try our best. Started her on IV fluids. The heart rate picked up. I told the relatives we might have to operate which they were very much against. I told my boss. It was 2 pm.
Heart went wonky again. Decided for Caesar and called my boss. He came and we started. 3:30 pm.
Baby out 4:30 pm.
Cried at birth. But some labored breathing. Referred the baby to higher center. 6:00 pm.
Today the family came in. Their friends and followers. The baby is on ventilator. 11 am.
The baby died. 5 pm.

They brought the body. The mother was told. The distraught father took the body (it was a boy) away to be cremated. The rest stood outside the hospital. Anger. Grief. Shock. All searching for an outlet.
Inside I sat, hiding, with the same feelings. Minus the anger. Plus a lot of fear.
I was the one who saw her. Was there delay? What did I do wrong? Did I do wrong? What should I have done?
Outside the mob stood. Murmuring. Complaining. Bottled rage. Naked anger.

Lord, now what....?

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