The last time I checked the date in my calendar this noon, it was the tenth of May, not the sixteenth of June. It's neither my birthday nor any festival to get surprises one after the other, right? Then why the heck, the list of surprises is not ending? I still hadn't digested the fact that the Arrogant stranger is my senior doctor and so another surprise that my night Surgeon is the same person. Besides, It's only twelve hours and we already reached a state of—can't withstand each other presence.
Yet, it's my job and also his, so here we are standing beside the second bed of the female surgical ward giving counseling to the patient regarding the control of hypertension. Nevertheless of his arrogant and aggressive behavior, he started making a soft corner in my heart. And it's because of his kind nature and amiable response toward the patient. I observed he doesn't smile and keeps his expressions deserted. Which, made me feel quite concerned about him and gave thought to know about him. To know what has kept a well professional Surgeon off, that he had restricted his liveliness.
"Doctor!" My Surgeon bawled, quite annoyed. "Focus!" he shouted which made nearby patients and attended to stare at me. It made me uncomfortable and also scratch the idea of—getting to know more about him. Let him and his arrogance go to hell.
I cleared my throat, "Yes."
"I said get the pen and paper!" I furrowed my brows in confusion, eyes staring at him—clueless. "So, you were not hearing, me. I said you have to monitor critical condition patients, so better take a paper and note down so that you will have a track whom to monitor." I nodded and hurled to the nurse station for a paper. Whatever, I shouldn't get negative remarks in my job. I walk back to bed. And once again he spoke to make himself clear, in other words, helped himself to avoid getting annoyed— "Pay attention. I don't like repeating."
"I will make sure," to annoy you further, "to make you not repeat." I smiled as an assurance.
He gave me one hard look, that made my throat yearn for saliva. I gulped and averted my gaze at the patient, "write her name!" Like this my surgeon...wait what should I call him? Dr. Ishaan Sharma—it's lengthy. What about Dr. Sharma—it's too formal. Dr. Ishaan, it's convenient. So, in this way he kept me saying the names and I kept noting them down on the white paper with a blue pen. At some stage, he just passed the beds and said at a time some dozen of names.
With my head tilt down, concentration on recalling names, hand busy scribbling, and legs following his steps I bumped into someone. I lifted my head to see a human chest covered with a light green button-up shirt then lifted more to see the annoyed yet handsome face of Dr. Ishaan, with one arched brow. I have to mention that my heart fainted for a moment when his eyes made eye contact with me.
"Sorry!" I mumbled and stepped back. There was only one ward remaining, post-operative. "Hash!" I exclaimed wiping out the imaginary sweat while climbing upstairs. Again with the desert face he stared at me and stepped inside the ward. I hope it's his ethics, not a trick to irritate others. I mean for two hours he made me roam like a lamb behind him, turning one side of paper completely blue with names.
There were only four patients in the ward whose names are mandatory to be written on that paper. But I didn't when he asked I replied simply, "The ward contained only four patients, so, I will remember them." He agreed and without a word walked out of the ward, I followed him. He stopped in front of the elevator and poke the button. My eyes examined his every action. The metal doors opened, and he stepped inside and looked at me.
We are on the fifth floor, it's better I use the elevator. But. Will it be a good idea to go with him, in that small, closed container? No. Yes. No.
Then he spoke, "are you gonna come or stand there itself."
Without giving a second thought, I stepped in with a wish ride should be peaceful. And when the elevator door closed actual anxiety began in me. I pumped my fists. I gnawed my inner cheek. Why all of a sudden, this is seeming like a steam room, not an elevator.
And a second later, the elevator's silence ride invaded by his voice, "Do you have any doubts to ask, Doctor?" he asked. Why can't he call me Dr.Ishika? I shook my head in response. He glanced at me and then back at his mobile.
I stopped pumping and shoved them in an apron to protect, "I didn't expect I would see you once again and that too as my senior Doctor," I said with my eyes fixed on him. My eyes caught his forehead cut. That he left open, it's a deep cut and seriously, it can lead to sepsis. Maybe there are no caring persons in his life, to take care of him. He took a couple of seconds to reply.
"Hmm. Even I didn't expect!" he replied in the most unbelievable way that I didn't expect. That's in a calm, easy, and dead voice, and shifted his gaze from his mobile to the floor.
As I couldn't overcome my curiosity, I forwarded a question. "So, you live in Lucknow or Kanpur?"
"Lucknow".
"Oh!" thankfully, the ride ended. I sighed mentally. He stepped out, me next to him. "I know that you know better than me, still I want to advise. Bandage your wound." I said softly and observed him looking at me intensely. And this look was neither irritative nor annoyed, it's infirm. Without any word or head shake, he walked past me. Unlike, noon his attitude was neither arrogant nor egoistic, it was solitude.
Though he is one enticing beast, I remembered my goal to come to Lucknow is to pursue my education not to do a microscopic examination of his emotions.
So, Ishika Mishra. Focus on your critical condition patients.
I went to the canteen to have my dinner. I collected my dinner tray from the kitchen counter and sat on one of the unoccupied tables. I was in my mid-meal when my phone started vibrating with an unknown number, for the second time on that day. I lifted the call and waited for the person on call to speak.
"Hello" a female voice came out of the call. "Am I speaking to Dr.Ishika?" she asked formally.
"Yes" was all I replied to her as I was busy eating my dinner.
"I am P.G. of Obstetrics and Gynecology, a patient of abdominal pregnancy is in labor. The obstetrician is conducting an emergency cesarean section but needs a surgeon as it is an abdominal pregnancy" she said in one breath. "Can you inform the surgeon on duty? Surgery might start in the next thirty minutes" she informed and cut the call.
I immediately called Dr.Ishaan and informed him about the case. "Fine. Read the patient's case sheet and also check for any comorbidities or complications associated with her pregnancy" he ordered. "I want to hear in detail about the case from you. I will come to the operation theatre in twenty minutes" he added and cut the call.
As soon as he cut the call I rushed to the labor room, I took her case sheet and read about the case in detail. After that, I went to the operation theatre and waited for him outside the O.T. hall. He arrived in the next couple of minutes. And what caught my eyes as he did take my advice seriously. His forehead cut was bandaged.
"Did you read about the case?" he asked and we started walking through the hallway of Operation theatre.
"Yes."
"Start explaining then."
"The patient is in seven months of pregnancy and she has one baby boy of three years old. She was diagnosed with hypertension two months back and is on medications. On the scan, it was mentioned the fetus is implanted in the peritoneal cavity (the cavity between the abdominal wall and organs)". Simultaneously, we kept walking, passing through the pre-operative ward, post-operative ward, and a couple of intensive care units.
Then he suddenly halted in front of a door. "Okay. Change your dress to O.T. uniform, I might require your assistance". After saying he opened that door and stepped inside the room and I followed him. He turned around and gandered me once again with both of his hands in his denim black jeans. Did I commit any mistake? "You want me to change in front of you, Doctor?"
I coughed and took a step back. No. Maybe he is a filthy person. "Why do you want to make my eyes sinful, Dr. Ishaan?"
"Then why did you step inside the male changing room, Doctor?" he questioned with his right index finger pointing on the wall, left to me on which a poster of a very handsome, cool man picture hung with 'Male Changing Room' written over his body.
"Oh! That's the matter" I let out a sigh of relaxation. "I thought you are a filthy person!" I exclaimed.
"What. What. What!!?" With every what he took one step forward and me one step backward.
"Don't start shouting at me, you said suddenly. And I thought you are a characterless man and..."
"Stop! Now," He pulled the door wide open, "if you leave this room... it will be a glad favor for me... So that I can change." I did it without irritating him further. As soon as I stepped out he banged the door forcibly behind me. As if, I am going to leer his sexy body.
I went to the Female changing room, which was opposite the male changing room, which I found to be bigger than the male changing room according to my one-minute visit knowledge. It had a couple of small size separate cabins closed with big curtains. I took one O.T. uniform and changed into that. I tied up my hair in a bun and covered it with a surgical head cap and put on a surgical mask. 'So. All the best Dr.Ishika Mishra; going to assist first surgery in post-graduation.' I greeted myself and stepped inside the operation theatre.
I walked to the room where the Abdominal pregnancy case was in the process of surgery. The doctor of obstetrics stood to the right side of the patient and beside her stood the post-graduate, one who called me thirty minutes ago. Dr.Ishaan walked in and stood on the left side of the patient while I stood beside him. Anesthesia was already given and the obstetrician was ready to start the surgery but before that, she looked at Dr.Ishaan.
"Can I start, Sir?" she asked him. He nodded, permitting her. She took a scalpel and placed it on the upper part of her abdomen on the left side. She gave a horizontal stroke with a scalpel allowing it to pierce the skin and ooze out the blood.
Meanwhile, I surveyed the operation room. Just behind the patient's head were monitors to monitor the vital status of the operating patient and Anaesthetic equipment to maintain the patient in an anesthetic state. At one corner of the room were the surgical instrument shelves along with anesthetic and emergency management medications. And at the other end of the room was the Newborn incubator with a weight measuring scale and a few basic instruments required to manage the newborn.
"Mam, where is the Pediatrician?" Dr.Ishaan asked the obstetrician. "It's a complicated pregnancy, we should have waited for a Pediatrician before starting".
"I thought he already arrived". Then she looked at her post-graduate. "I told you to call the Pediatrician. Did you call him?" she asked.
"Actually mam, I told the labor room nurse to inform the Pediatrician as I was busy arranging blood for the patient".
"I told you to call him. How would you inflict your work on others?" she shouted at her. "Just go out, call him and request to come as immediately as possible" she commanded her post-graduate. The post-graduate took out her gloves and walked out with extreme fear, terror, and panic-filled eyes.
The obstetrician resumed her procedure, she passed through other layers of the abdomen, then muscles, and approached the peritoneal layer. She gave a gentle cut to the layer of peritoneum and separated it to visualize a white glistening amniotic sac with the fetus in it. She tore the sac-full of fluid and pulled out the baby. The nurse standing beside her brought a medium size pan-tray with green sheets over it. Then she placed the baby on the tray. She clamped and cut the umbilical cord, (the womb connector of mother and child). It was a very small baby and it was a baby girl. And in my six months of experience, I had never come across this small size.
"Baby is not crying, breathing is very weak" Obstetrician panicked and tapped on the baby's back. "I dunno that Pediatrician has yet to come or already arrived". I saw the horror in her eyes. On one side she has to take care of the surgery and on another side, she was worried about the baby's critical condition. While Dr.Ishaan was busy stopping the hemostasis of the patient. An inch thought came into my mind: what if I manage the baby till the Pediatrician comes?
I can try to save her with six months of my experience. That might not be enough to manage a 'Birth Asphyxia' but that would be enough to improve the baby's condition until the Pediatrician's arrival.
"Mam, I will manage her condition" I spoke with courage.
"But, you should have the skills to manage. This is not a minor injury to forward your hands to help. It is an Asphyxic condition" Dr.Ishaan acknowledged.
"Baby is not crying, breathing is slow and irregular, heart rate is less than 100 with no proper stimulus and flexed limbs. And what I mean is, I will try to improve these signs and symptoms" I said in one breath, glancing at him. He stared at me silently and then continued his work, stopping the blood by cauterizing the bleeding arteries. "Trust me I don't have a certificate to prove at present but I can tell. I have a few months of experience in Newborn Critical Care Management" I ended up glancing at Obstetrician. "Mam if you permit, can I?" having no option she permitted.
I took the baby and placed her in the incubator. Then I measured her weight, it was 1950 grams. I cleaned her body and then suctioned the mouth and nose by using a bulb syringe.
At the same time, the post-graduate of Obstetrics came inside the room. "Mam, the Pediatrician said he will be in ten minutes," she said with full enthusiasm and excitement as if she had finally relieved herself from the hellfire. I kept doing my work with a bulb syringe, I heard a voice from behind. "Sir, I will manage the surgery. Your post-graduate is alone. I think she might require your help" the obstetric doctor suggested to Dr. Ishaan. I didn't hear any other voice after that but a couple of seconds later I sensed someone's presence beside me.
I looked up to find Dr. Ishaan standing beside me. "Can I help you?" he asked. I was about to gambol with enthusiasm, ecstatic, and exhilaration but I realized my present situation was serious and stored it for later.
"Yes. I suctioned her nose and mouth but still no improvement. The next step we can try is Bag and Mask ventilation. I will do that but meanwhile, can you clean her body?" he nodded and took gauze pieces to start his work. I stood behind the baby's head and positioned the mask over her mouth and nose. I started ventilating her. For once I glanced at Dr.Ishaan. He with a cautious lifted her small, thin delicate arms and cleaned her underarms. I smiled without coming to his notice.
"Dr. Ishaan" I called. "You ventilate her, I will do her cleaning". We exchanged our positions. Many times, our fingers grazed, our elbows nudge, but the present condition was not to feel things adorable. A few minutes later, I checked her heart rate, it improved to 120 beats per minute. "Her heart rate increased" I informed.
"Breathing is improving and she is also moving her limbs," he said with astonishment. I observed a gleam in his eyes. No smile. A minute later Pediatrician came inside and I mentally thanked God. He walked to us and stood between me and Dr.Ishaan.
"Thank you, Doctors. If you both hand over the case to me, I will manage her". Dr.Ishaan stepped aside and went back to the operating table. Before walking away I told Baby's details and her present condition to Pediatric Doctor.
I walked back to the operating table and stood beside Dr.Ishaan. Surgery almost came to an end. "Thank you, for helping me," I whispered, bending to his side.
"I just did my job," he whispered back with a stern professional reply.
"Thanks for considering my advice!" He knew, what I was referring to.
"Focus!" I smiled and focused. On whom? My brain questioned. To which my eyes zoomed at the male surgeon standing beside me.
A few minutes later the obstetric doctor concluded the surgery and thanked Dr.Ishaan and also me. She even appreciated me. I felt proud of myself. For further management, the baby was shifted to 'Newborn I.C.U'.
*****************
I changed my dress and went to the post-operative ward to check on the operated patients of my department. There were seven patients. I was on the third bed patient when the in-charge Nurse of the ward handed me a new report of that patient. The report was a urine test called 'Urine Chromatography'. I had very less knowledge about that test. So, I googled and read about the test.
I read for about 10 minutes, standing still in the same position. The main aim of that test was to detect the intake of drugs by detecting their metabolites in urine. I read that patient's case sheet and found the diagnosis was 'self-poisoning with Morphine. Poor soul, what might have happened to him that he attempted to get rid of himself?
Then I read his reports; on urine chromatography. Before surgery chromatography test showed the presence of morphine while after surgery it showed the absence of morphine.
"Dr.Ishika" I raised my head, Dr.Ishaan stood beside me. I gaped at him. Next, he took that person's case sheet from my hands. "What reports are these?"
"Huh! Urine chromatography!"
"Where did you disappear?" his eyes fixed to the case sheet, "I even called you a couple of times. But you didn't receive." I took out my phone from my apron pocket. Yes. There are two missed calls from Dr.Ishaan. He called. I without his notice glanced at the back of his head, just to see did he got hit the back of the head. I inspected it properly the surface was clear without any injury.
"I changed my dress and came to check on patients," I replied in shock. yes, I was in shock. Dr. Ishaan Sharma being nice to me was more like a psychological shock.
With his right index and middle finger, he scratched his right temple and asked me another question which landed me in an extreme state of shock, "Had your dinner?" Is he for real? I doubt it. It's better to touch him and get confirmed. No. What if he jerks as he did on the last day of the accident location?
"Yes, Dr. Ishaan" I replied with my eyes fixed on him while his eyes were still on the case sheet. Rather than touching him, it's better to slap me. Should I?
"I thought you didn't have time to do it because of surgery. So, I ordered two dinner meals for us" he mentioned.
Us!
Dr.Ishaan is caring about me. Oh, God! If he keeps on acting as sweet as honey then for sure I will go into an irreversible state of Psychological shock. He didn't say anything and handed me back the case sheet.
"If you are comfortable with me then you can accompany me," he said in a calm and warm voice, and this time his eyes were gazing at mine. Except for the beep, beep voices of monitors there were no other disturbances. Silence. But from some distance, I was hearing violin music.
"I am comfortable here." Wait!! What!?!? But why? I just want to slap both of my cheeks now. How could my mouth act to be unfair to me?
"Hmm..." wetting his lips "Just for the sake of humanity I order food for you," he blurted with the same native cold behavior and walked out of the post-operative ward. It's very difficult to understand him, the whole day he acted like a cold person and then suddenly turned himself into a tender person that too just for five minutes.
Watching him walking away my heart sunk. And the most depressing fact about my 24 hours duty is to miss the chance of eating with him. Yes, I agree I don't like him but a part of me was willing to speak with him. What miracle did the abdominal pregnancy surgery do that he changed his deportment towards me? Shrugging my shoulders, I let out a sigh and resumed my work, though my eyes repeatedly kept on wandering towards the direction of the ward door.
------------------------------------------
Dear Readers,
I bid every reader of my book, to make a mighty effort to touch the star below this note. I guarantee I will for sure appreciate it with my sweet smile which can be sensed by a new entertaining and interesting chapter.