The other side

Its not often that we, as a medical fraternity deal with our own loved ones as patients. We see so many patients and relatives every day that it seldom strikes us that it could be us in their places too. Most of the days ,we deal with the frustrations of irritable by- standers, over concerned parents as well as children that their worries fail to register with us in time. We become concerned with treating the patients and not much else. It is probably a self protective mechanism we develop over years, otherwise who wants to be so emotionally attached to each patient that each of their inevitable ends(which might have been prolonged by us) leave us emotionally scarred each time around. And our psyches aren’t meant to take that much damage, so it comes naturally to us that we distance ourselves from their fears,turn a blind eye to their tears and we learn to be matter of fact and move on,  because , self preservation is an art which medicos learn without ever having to be taught.

There have been two instances in my life which have made me stop and wonder at the distances we keep ,the direct gazes we avoid and the awkward moments we never want to be a part of. First came a long time ago, 12 years ago, when i was nothing but a naive wide eyed 18yr old medical student standing in front of the neuro surgical icu as the lonesome connecting link between my completely non-medico parents and extremely professional surgeons of my brother, who was brought there with extensive brain injury. The first time i heard the word GCS was then, and little did i know then that 3/15  was as bad as it gets. The doctors telling me assumed i understood what they were saying, and my parents assumed that i understood better than they did, but either side failed to see the terrified clueless naive girl in front of them.

The next time was much more recently, by then i had graduated in age as well as education as well as maturity to be an anaesthetist , a wife, and a mom but even then the fears of hearing the word cancer in association with your mom does not make it any less scary than it was 12 years ago.But this time around i was better prepared, i knew what to ask, who to ask and how to be. I researched extensively till i realised that knowing more about it was only making things worse and not better. 12 years ago the situation was of a naive unprepared teen while this time around i should have had more of a handle on the situation, but both times left me feeling completely powerless,vulnerable,scared and stretched to the limit of fearing the worst. Atleast this time around i knew that my dad needed me to be strong and by this time around i was old enough to atleast pretend to be.

Both these instances have shaped me a lot in the making of who i am as a doctor. The first time,when i was too young ,instilled in me an empathy to the bystanders who never know who to ask and what to ask and most of the time are just looking for a comforting smile.  That time taught me how much a simple acknowledgment of their presence outside the ICU s make a sea of difference to them. By the next time when i was standing outside an ICU i knew to appreciate the people who take care of your loved ones inside as well as have an understanding of the limitations they have. I learnt to appreciate the higher being who decides what happens however we may want it to pan out. I learnt to understand that all we can do in any situation is be the best version of ourselves and pray for the best.

Beyond the tinted glass door of the ICU, the other side, seems a distant shadow, one we never want to be a part of, one we almost always ignore and one we never think of. But when the light falls on us and makes us the shadows and, remember ,one day it will, we  are left with thoughts of how we could have been, better, and nicer versions of ourselves.