Monitor
It's true what they say - human life is so feeble, fragile; an
infinitesimal blip in the cosmic graph of things. Trust me, as I have
felt countless of such blips fade away. Man's pursuit for creating a
legacy then makes sense to me, leaving a mark in this otherwise
incomprehensible entanglement that is our universe. However, the
mistakes some manage to commit, even in this diminutive wisp of
existence, is bemusing, and at times disheartening. Disheartening - wry
sentiment coming from me.
That day they wheeled in one of those bemusing ones, though I wouldn't come to that judgement until much later. Hit and run victim, I overheard, as the ER doctor took particulars from the girl who had brought him in. Boy, was he in bad shape! His entire body was run down, crushed and the blood! - lots on the sheets, the floor, the girl, but none in him. As they hooked me up to him, I could feel his very life force ebbing away. As per my programming, I gave a shout out to anyone who'd listen, dragging back the attention of the doctor from his dilemma over taking a police case to his duty of saving lives. A flurry of activity soon ensued - blood transfusion, immediate surgery to stop internal hemorrhaging, bolting the broken pieces of his body back together with plates and wires, and what not. The medical staff worked tirelessly on him for four hours, only to find him slipping into a coma in the end.
The girl was a complete mess, broken, sick from the relentless weeping. Even in this state of inarticulate mumble, I could gather from her words the wracking guilt inside her; apparently the boy had saved her from the vehicle but couldn't get clear himself in time. She was broken before, but when she heard that he had slipped into a coma, words do not exist to explain that sight. Thankfully, by then some more friends had come over to support the poor, wretched soul. On being informed that he was out of surgery and transferred to an ICU, she requested to see him, disregarding everyone's advice, only to find out that she couldn't take it, and finally fell unconscious. One in coma, the other unconscious, soon the remaining band fell pray to despair but to their comfort, she had suffered no major injuries and the fainting spell was due to the physical and emotional toll over the last twelve or so hours. She'd be fine the next day, at least physically, after some fluids and rest. He wouldn't.
Comatose situations aren't uncommon in severe trauma cases. Nevertheless, the uncertainty it brings over a patient's recovery is unnerving just the same, even for me. Of course I'd be the first one to know when he goes through that dark tunnel, but until he steps into that light, even I'm not sure. The expected stream of visitors began the next day. They were your usual bunch - destroyed parents, shocked-numb sibling, and crestfallen friends. I pity those who study the human nature as they don't get a front seat like I do, for in these situations, I listen and observe the human condition. The girl who brought him in, left his side only to perform her daily duties for a couple of hours and then would come right back, sit by the bed and watch him, unmindful of the requests of his parents to go home and rest. His family took charge of managing formalities, both with the hospital administration and the social visitors. Strikingly similar, the formality of filling a lifeless form and answering the questions of phony friends/relatives, yet they did it with an unnaturally calm demeanor, which was also in him. In one of the conversations with his parents about what happened, the girl, in a sobbing fit, had told them how after being run over, he had looked at her, smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'm fine!", slipping into unconsciousness the very next moment. Some family.
Five days into coma, no signs of improvement. Often that acts as a signal to those who didn't care much in the first place to jump ship and lose all hope. Left behind were a ragtag group of people, who never gave up. What's bemusing, is how the patient, always misjudges who all come in this ragtag group. It wasn't any different in this case. Eavesdropping on one conversation, I found out that his closest friends who lived in a different city, who he considered his "life", were informed of the accident on the very next day of its occurrence, but five days down, none of them had made the half day trip to this city. On further such transgressions of mine, I found out that some of the people he had outright neglected, or fought with, or had the incorrect impressions about, had come down to stay by his side. Some of his friends who had moved to different continents were organizing prayer meetings over social media, notwithstanding the skepticism they knew they'd receive from him. Yes, they believed he'd make it, if only to show them his skepticism because he never missed a chance. Some of his long forgotten school friends even got together to create a special video message, because they had heard that sometimes comatose patients can still hear what's going on around them. All this, but his "life" were still missing. If there is a God, he should apologize for this irony.
However the higher powers were everything but apologetic. In fact I believe they're so often cruelly testing. On the eighth day, he woke up from his coma, to an empty ICU and heard his phone ringing. Painfully, yet determinedly, he reached out and grabbed it, only to find one of his "life" calling. It was as if his atrophied muscles suddenly got a jolt and he picked up the call, answered, and again assured her he was fine. Ten seconds into the call, his hands fell slack and he dropped his phone, the clatter attracting his parents and the girl outside. When they rushed in, tears of joy and relief streamed down every eye as they rushed in to hold some inch of him, afraid that if they didn't he might relapse. Over the next couple of minutes, the doctors were brought in who performed their tests and delivered a happy prognosis, barring a few memory problems he'd suffer for some time due to the severe concussion. The good news spread like wildfire. The turncoats did what they do best, proclaiming that they knew he'd make it. His friends from afar thanked everyone on the social media who had shown support and subsequently received many thanks and earfuls from him simultaneously. What was bemusing though, that the friends he had pushed away and who'd been at his side anyway, never came to meet him, preferring to just drop a text., which unsurprisingly, he ignored. Ego and ignorance, no wonder mankind is going down.
In all this, the better part of his affection and appreciation was rewarded justly to his family and the girl who had saved his life. By the by, this was the girl he had been interested in romantically, but who had been thwarting his attempts for the sake of their friendship. Post accident, he had started hoping that maybe the very real threat of losing him that had presented itself to her might provoke a change in her stance. However, it didn't. She still maintained that although losing him would drive her over the edge as it almost did, and she needed him in her life, he was still her friend and nothing else. As I raised my hand in salute to that girl, I felt like raising my hand to slap him for the seeds of disappointment he allowed to be sowed inside his heart. But his biggest folly was his delusion over the so called "life" friends. It wasn't providence, rather a divine joke that the first words he had heard after the accident were of those who couldn't even bother taking a measly bus ride and yet the whole incident had just reinforced his belief that they'll always be there for him, they are his strength and the usual non sense.
He's not the only one. There are countless like him, whom I've watched day and night, in situations like these where a life changing event skews their perceptions in the wrong directions and reinforces their delusions. I know there would be many more like him whom I haven't seen or felt firsthand. And it disheartens me. In hindsight, not a wry sentiment, but an appropriate reaction from a heart monitor, who's programmed to sense and feel the faults in human hearts.
That day they wheeled in one of those bemusing ones, though I wouldn't come to that judgement until much later. Hit and run victim, I overheard, as the ER doctor took particulars from the girl who had brought him in. Boy, was he in bad shape! His entire body was run down, crushed and the blood! - lots on the sheets, the floor, the girl, but none in him. As they hooked me up to him, I could feel his very life force ebbing away. As per my programming, I gave a shout out to anyone who'd listen, dragging back the attention of the doctor from his dilemma over taking a police case to his duty of saving lives. A flurry of activity soon ensued - blood transfusion, immediate surgery to stop internal hemorrhaging, bolting the broken pieces of his body back together with plates and wires, and what not. The medical staff worked tirelessly on him for four hours, only to find him slipping into a coma in the end.
The girl was a complete mess, broken, sick from the relentless weeping. Even in this state of inarticulate mumble, I could gather from her words the wracking guilt inside her; apparently the boy had saved her from the vehicle but couldn't get clear himself in time. She was broken before, but when she heard that he had slipped into a coma, words do not exist to explain that sight. Thankfully, by then some more friends had come over to support the poor, wretched soul. On being informed that he was out of surgery and transferred to an ICU, she requested to see him, disregarding everyone's advice, only to find out that she couldn't take it, and finally fell unconscious. One in coma, the other unconscious, soon the remaining band fell pray to despair but to their comfort, she had suffered no major injuries and the fainting spell was due to the physical and emotional toll over the last twelve or so hours. She'd be fine the next day, at least physically, after some fluids and rest. He wouldn't.
Comatose situations aren't uncommon in severe trauma cases. Nevertheless, the uncertainty it brings over a patient's recovery is unnerving just the same, even for me. Of course I'd be the first one to know when he goes through that dark tunnel, but until he steps into that light, even I'm not sure. The expected stream of visitors began the next day. They were your usual bunch - destroyed parents, shocked-numb sibling, and crestfallen friends. I pity those who study the human nature as they don't get a front seat like I do, for in these situations, I listen and observe the human condition. The girl who brought him in, left his side only to perform her daily duties for a couple of hours and then would come right back, sit by the bed and watch him, unmindful of the requests of his parents to go home and rest. His family took charge of managing formalities, both with the hospital administration and the social visitors. Strikingly similar, the formality of filling a lifeless form and answering the questions of phony friends/relatives, yet they did it with an unnaturally calm demeanor, which was also in him. In one of the conversations with his parents about what happened, the girl, in a sobbing fit, had told them how after being run over, he had looked at her, smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'm fine!", slipping into unconsciousness the very next moment. Some family.
Five days into coma, no signs of improvement. Often that acts as a signal to those who didn't care much in the first place to jump ship and lose all hope. Left behind were a ragtag group of people, who never gave up. What's bemusing, is how the patient, always misjudges who all come in this ragtag group. It wasn't any different in this case. Eavesdropping on one conversation, I found out that his closest friends who lived in a different city, who he considered his "life", were informed of the accident on the very next day of its occurrence, but five days down, none of them had made the half day trip to this city. On further such transgressions of mine, I found out that some of the people he had outright neglected, or fought with, or had the incorrect impressions about, had come down to stay by his side. Some of his friends who had moved to different continents were organizing prayer meetings over social media, notwithstanding the skepticism they knew they'd receive from him. Yes, they believed he'd make it, if only to show them his skepticism because he never missed a chance. Some of his long forgotten school friends even got together to create a special video message, because they had heard that sometimes comatose patients can still hear what's going on around them. All this, but his "life" were still missing. If there is a God, he should apologize for this irony.
However the higher powers were everything but apologetic. In fact I believe they're so often cruelly testing. On the eighth day, he woke up from his coma, to an empty ICU and heard his phone ringing. Painfully, yet determinedly, he reached out and grabbed it, only to find one of his "life" calling. It was as if his atrophied muscles suddenly got a jolt and he picked up the call, answered, and again assured her he was fine. Ten seconds into the call, his hands fell slack and he dropped his phone, the clatter attracting his parents and the girl outside. When they rushed in, tears of joy and relief streamed down every eye as they rushed in to hold some inch of him, afraid that if they didn't he might relapse. Over the next couple of minutes, the doctors were brought in who performed their tests and delivered a happy prognosis, barring a few memory problems he'd suffer for some time due to the severe concussion. The good news spread like wildfire. The turncoats did what they do best, proclaiming that they knew he'd make it. His friends from afar thanked everyone on the social media who had shown support and subsequently received many thanks and earfuls from him simultaneously. What was bemusing though, that the friends he had pushed away and who'd been at his side anyway, never came to meet him, preferring to just drop a text., which unsurprisingly, he ignored. Ego and ignorance, no wonder mankind is going down.
In all this, the better part of his affection and appreciation was rewarded justly to his family and the girl who had saved his life. By the by, this was the girl he had been interested in romantically, but who had been thwarting his attempts for the sake of their friendship. Post accident, he had started hoping that maybe the very real threat of losing him that had presented itself to her might provoke a change in her stance. However, it didn't. She still maintained that although losing him would drive her over the edge as it almost did, and she needed him in her life, he was still her friend and nothing else. As I raised my hand in salute to that girl, I felt like raising my hand to slap him for the seeds of disappointment he allowed to be sowed inside his heart. But his biggest folly was his delusion over the so called "life" friends. It wasn't providence, rather a divine joke that the first words he had heard after the accident were of those who couldn't even bother taking a measly bus ride and yet the whole incident had just reinforced his belief that they'll always be there for him, they are his strength and the usual non sense.
He's not the only one. There are countless like him, whom I've watched day and night, in situations like these where a life changing event skews their perceptions in the wrong directions and reinforces their delusions. I know there would be many more like him whom I haven't seen or felt firsthand. And it disheartens me. In hindsight, not a wry sentiment, but an appropriate reaction from a heart monitor, who's programmed to sense and feel the faults in human hearts.
Comments
Post a Comment