Friday, July 22, 2011

Fighting death

Yesterday a young boy came. A 20 year old with sickle cell disease post splenectomy now in intense pain. He was one of our regulars who came for pain relief and hydration and then got discharged. The only son of a mother with father living in another village.
Tonight at 6 pm, I got a call from the ward. 'Madam ji, ek baar dekh lo. Uska saans theek se nahi a raha'. (Literal translation - Madam ji, please come and see once. His breathing isn't coming properly) So I went to find him breathing hard and fast. Lungs with harsh breath sounds. My diagnosis was a massive pulmonary embolism. So I started him on anti coagulants, nebulizations, steroids et al.... And yet his oxygen saturation kept dropping. 70... 50... 40... We started CPR. His last words were, 'Call my father'.
We don't have any ventilators. So I intubated and bagged.
Saturation yet dropping... 30... Nil... And I kept bagging...
Pulse went from feeble to non recordable.... Still I kept bagging....
Till his heart stopped beating.....
Till his pupils fixed and dilated....
Till my boss came and declared him dead....
With his mother's cries filling my ears....
I bagged...
Hoping... Praying....

He passed away in front of my eyes.....

No comments:

Post a Comment