DEAR DIARY

INTRODUCTION

AN: Nothing belongs to me. Not the characters,  not the photographs, nor any drawings  or media I might use. Everything belongs to their respective owners. It's just the new plot and a few new characters introduced by me that I can claim to have come out of my imagination. This is my first attempt at writing something. 

Do forgive me if I have botched up medical facts. I'm not someone who belongs to that world. Whatever I write about the ways the doctors and the hospitals operate, come from the very minute quantity of knowledge that my pea sized brain has accumulated from k dramas and the internet. Just use your willing suspension of disbelief and enjoy the love story. I will be much obliged. 🙂🙂
Here we go...

"Hold the clamps steady."

"Yes, Chief."

"Vitals?"

"Not really good. BP's a little high."

"Stay alert for any problems. Forcep-"

"Here."

The tension inside the operation theatre was palpable as the team continued to perform the operation, keeping a careful eye on the monitors recording the state of the patient on the table.
All but the two surgeons of course, who continued to perform the surgery with a calm demeanour that kept the rest of the team steady.

"We need more blood plasma."

"Roger that."

The problem was not with the procedure itself though. It was the patient who was admitted in a severe condition. The family had not had the sense to rush him to the hospital as soon as the symptoms appeared and had wasted time calling in general physicians one after another till the crisis had made itself apparent.

Nice. Thought the first member grimly. If anything goes wrong, dump it on the doctor. Life in the medical field was tough indeed.

This was not the time to grumble about one's own fate though, with the patient's life on the line. He had to concentrate. He could whine to his heart's content later when he was free.

The young doctor peeked a glance laced with respect at the chief surgeon as he worked. Here was somebody who never seemed to be affected whatever the crisis was. He knew the truth though. The Chief was not immune to anxiety. He was always up in arms while dealing with a crisis. Not everybody knew it though as he never gave any outward sign of it. He gave the impression of being the most well balanced ship amidst any raging storm. It easily put his surgical team members' minds to ease. Being calm headed was the first rule here.

The monitors suddenly started beaping madly startling the nurses who went into red alert mode.

" Dr. May!" The sharp voice of the surgeon cut through the rising panic as he called out to the anaesthetist.

"Already on it Chief."

The team performed their assigned tasks swiftly but steadily, trying not to panic. A death on the table was a black mark that was just as much psychological as it was tangible on the records of the hospital surgeries.

"Vitals are falling fast." The head nurse informed tersely.

"Keep calm." said the surgeon as he swiftly took action. The operating table was suddenly surrounded by a flurry of activities as they desperately tried to stabilise the patient. The situation was slowly brought somewhat under control as the team diligently followed the swiftly issued instructions.

"Stable, Chief."

"Hmm. Let's wrap this up quickly. Needle holder-"

The instrument was swiftly handed to the surgeon who started the concluding stage of the operation. The first surgeon sighed in relief, thanking whatever god it was overseeing the op. The Chief had nailed it as usual. But his nerves needed a strong cup of coffee.