THE LEGAL DIAGNOSIS

MY PRECIOUS

Sairat

Entering the general ward for my rounds, a smile spread across my face as I spotted Miss Lee gazing out the window. "Good morning, Miss Lee," I greeted her cheerfully.

She turned towards me, her eyes widening. "You look radiant after the wedding," she commented, causing my cheeks to flush a bright red.

"Even blushing, huh?" she teased, her observation making my eyes widen further.

"N-no, it's not like that, it's just..." I stammered, avoiding her gaze.

She chuckled and patted the space beside her on the bed. I nodded and sat down, noticing her pale, calm face, shallow breaths, and tired eyes. The thought of letting her go filled me with a heavy sadness.

"So, what do my reports say?" she inquired, snapping me back to reality. The truth was, her reports hadn't improved; in fact, they were worsening by the day. However, I couldn't bear to burden her with that news.

"You're doing well for now," I lied gently. "Just take care of yourself, and please feel free to share any worries you might have."

She offered a weak smile and settled back into bed. I pulled the duvet up over her and reassured her, "Rest well." With a heavy heart, I moved on to see my other patients.

As I walked down the corridor, my gaze fell on a particular figure. I stopped short, my head swiveling to the left. A young boy sat on a bed, an IV drip attached to his wrist.

"He's a PTSD patient," someone said beside me. I turned to see Doctor Nobey, an American doctor who had recently moved back to India. We had been classmates during our medical studies. However, she specialized in psychiatry.

"Did he try to sever his nerves?" I asked, eyeing the bandage on his wrist.

"He even attempted to harm himself in a more sensitive area," she replied, her voice heavy with concern. Shock washed over me.

"What happened? Why would he do that?" I pressed, eager to understand.

Dr. Nobey sighed deeply. "His parents and little sister died in a natural disaster - a landslide. He blames himself because they were coming to visit him for his seventeenth birthday."

A wave of sadness washed over me. So many people suffered from the invisible wounds of mental illness. He was just a child, burdened with such a weight.

"Unfortunately, the hospital has refused to take responsibility for him," Dr. Nobey continued. My brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why? The government covers these costs, right?" I questioned, aware of the common issue of hospitals refusing to treat patients who couldn't afford their bills.

"No, he tried to jump off a cliff and even injured some staff members. The chairman sent a notice demanding, we transfer him to another hospital or a government facility," she explained.

"But that's a good thing, isn't it? Why don't we shift him to a better hospital?" I suggested enthusiastically.

"Government hospitals usually lack dedicated psychiatric units," Dr. Nobey pointed out. "And if even we give up on him, who else will accept him?"