The Falling Petals...🌺

A-fear-worse-than.....

Nothing changed.

Even after four days, things remained the same—her unconsciousness, the doctors' inability to say anything definite, our fears, our prayers and our tears. Time and again, we were asking the doctors if we needed to take any second opinion on her treatment. If we could get her treated somewhere else before it was too late. But they were non- committal.

With each passing day, her battle with death was getting more difficult. Constantly being on the ventilator, she got pneumonia, her lungs were lacking blood. She started bleeding somewhere inside her intestine. She had already been given ten units of blood but her falling blood pressure didn't gain any sustenance. The threat of the worst changed me.

All of a sudden, I started believing in all kinds of superstitions and myths. Had anyone told me—'Pick up a few pebbles from the road and eat them. It will save her.'—I would have done that too. I was so desperate to make her well that I was ready to do anything. Anything. Without a second thought. The mental burden I was carrying—we all were carrying—was just too much. Waiting, hoping for some good news, which we did not get.

Instead, the bad news, the new miseries kept piling on. I could even feel my helplessness and frustration leading to a mental breakdown. And it was hard to stay positive and not lose my cool and patience.

Later that evening, the doctors permitted us to take a second opinion for her treatment. Which meant that they felt they could not do more. Her condition was deteriorating. We all made up our mind.

St. Mary's Hospital was our last medical hope. Moving a patient who was so serious was going to be the toughest part of her treatment. Taking her out from the atmosphere of a protected ICU into the open air full of bacteria and viruses, then her transit from one hospital to another in an ambulance, running amid the busiest traffic—all this involved so much risk. Even the thought of it gave me jitters. A single mistake could lead to disaster. But we had no other alternative.

The next day, we all were geared up for the big task. I remember well, in my heart, I had this feeling that we all were going to do well on that day. But fate kept threatening us time and again. We were about to take her out of the hospital when her dad was asked to do something. We were given a set of documents to be signed and the last one was a disclaimer which read: "The patient's condition is serious and this entire transition is being done on the wish of patient's family. In case of any further damage which may/may not lead to the death of the patient, the hospital will not be held responsible."

Her father signed that paper and we came out after making the entire payment. In the next half an hour, we were on the road. Every single minute involved extreme caution. Throughout, I kept saying God's name in my heart. It was the first time I had been in an ambulance. Being in an ambulance is so different from being on the road, watching an ambulance. I never knew it was so frightening. The siren kept torturing me.

Everything was going fine, still, every now and then, I kept asking the doctor with us. And, every time, his response was positive. Passing those forty-five minutes of restlessness, we finally reached St. Mary's. They immediately took her to the ICU and we were asked to complete the formalities. It took us almost an hour after which we were allowed to see her just once. I was the last person to leave the ICU.

I stood there in front of a new doctor who was going to handle her case. He was the senior-most person amid all those people in white aprons and his team got busy studying the MRI and X-Rays. I wanted to talk to him. But when he appeared in front of me, waiting for me to say something, I just could not.

"What happened?" he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"A ..."

"Yes?" I looked down, trying to speak.

"Son! What happened?" He raised my chin.

"Can you save her for me?" was all I could say before tears ran down my face.

"That's what we always try to do here. Don't worry, things will get better. You take care of yourself. We will take care of her." Somebody called him and he got busy again, studying her reports. I came out of the ICU. The toughest job of the day was over. She was successfully admitted in her new hospital. There was a feeling of victory and a new ray of hope within our hearts.

Later that night, talking to her mom, Dad said, "She is now in safer hands." That was the first night since her accident when I slept a little better.

---------------

"But you said she was going to be all right!"

"See, gentlemen, don't lose your calm. We can't promise you the moon. We are trying our best." The next evening, I was talking to the doctors. They were saying that her condition was deteriorating because of the fall in her platelet count. Suddenly, things appeared very different from what we had planned, what we had hoped and expected.

Later, in the middle of the night, an alarm-bell rang when the doctors told us, "Her body needs blood."

"Blood? Again?" I asked.

"This time, we need platelets to be injected into her body. Their level has fallen way below the expected."

"We can get that from the blood bank, right?" her dad asked.

"These cells don't last for more than four to six hours. So they can't be stored in a blood bank. We need people who can donate plasma cells to her."

"So can I donate those cells?" I asked.

"Only a person whose blood group matches hers and whose cell-match test is positive can donate."

"How much time do we have?"

"We need to do this as soon as possible," they replied and returned to work, in haste.

The situation was really bad. Apart from her dad, no one else in her entire family had the A+ blood group. And worse, he was prohibited from donating blood because of his old age. In the middle of that tough night, Dong-in, Dad and I were facing another challenge. Dong-in was trying to get in touch with all possible contacts. We also gave a call to the HR folks in her office to see if there was any possibility to get a blood-match from her co-workers. I dialled Pil-woo's number to tell him about the need of the moment.

Half an hour later, we got to hear something positive. Some guy from his office, whose blood group matched with hers, was ready. But our bad luck didn't let up. He had consumed liquor that evening in a party. There was alcohol in his blood and the test report said, 'Negative.'

An hour later, Deepu managed to get some good news. Someone in their neighbourhood had agreed to help. As soon as that person appeared, he was taken to the lab for the initial tests. In a while, we learnt that his blood matched the requirements and he went to donate his platelets. Back in the waiting-room, we felt a little relaxed knowing that we were able to meet the immediate needs. After his blood donation, I was talking to the person who was no less than God's own messenger.

"I don't know you and I don't know how to thank you," I said.

"If not me, then someone else," he replied, sipping fruit juice served by the hospital staff. We arranged a cab to drop him back home.

"She is a nice person. I know her. Don't worry; she will be fine soon," he said as he sat in the cab and shook hands with me.

I didn't know what to say to that person. Words were not enough for the help he had given us. At around three in the morning, Dong-in's cousin brother reached the hospital. It was his turn to stay back and we all left for home to take some rest. But the fear that something worse would come up again still persisted deep inside me.