Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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Khushi hummed to herself as she entered Abhaya Hospital, bustling with business as per usual. It was another sunny Wednesday, the rain from the previous day having cleared to pave way for a light, breezy atmosphere. She knew it was going to be good day; she felt it in her gut as she got ready that morning, choosing her favorite kurti –a white colored organza piece gifted by her aunt– paired with white palazzo pants, eating a freshly made smoothie bowl by Arnav –who insisted on starting the day healthy– and zooming through almost a traffic-free city –courtesy of her late call time.
It was perfect. As perfect as things could be.
"Good morning Sona," Khushi chirpily greeted the receptionist.
"You're happy today Dr. Gupta... anything special?"
Khushi shrugged, knowing the nurse wouldn't understand even a bit of her muddled, messy life. "Same old... so how come I'm assigned the emergency again today? I thought I already finished my quota for the month?"
Sona sighed. "It was on Dr. Awasthi's orders... a difficult case arrived late last night. She wants you to handle it."
Strange, Khushi thought. Thanking the nurse, she departed to the emergency room at once. No sooner had she arrived that–
"Thank god you're here!"
It was a first-year intern, Durga, who appeared as though she had been to hell and back in one single night.
Khushi looked at her with pity, knowing exactly what it felt like to be so clueless and overworked. "What's wrong?" she asked calmly.
Durga handed her the patient charts in answer. "A nine-year-old girl was brought in last night, complaining of high fever, severe headache and neck pain... the mother was saying that she was talking gibberish–"
"Gibberish?"
"Random words strung together in a sentence."
Khushi nodded, urging her to continue while quickly scanning the reports.
"The nurses were just about to shift her into the pediatric ward when the girl suddenly collapsed and started seizing. We obviously hooked her up –the usual seizure protocol– and ran all the tests. But before we even got back the CT scans, she became unresponsive and slipped into coma and–"
Durga broke off, as though trying to contain the panic ebbing out of her. Khushi kept her eyes on the reports, absorbing the information as quickly as she could.
"A-and she stopped r-responding," Durga continued, her voice on the brink of hysteria. "I'm trying everything I can, but she is not waking up and t-the p-parents are asking all these questions and they w-wanna talk to the chief and I... I don't know what to do Dr. Gupta!"
Khushi closed the file with a sigh. So much for a perfect day.
Although the diagnosis was still pending –for only a specialist can confirm, not interns or residents– it was a clear case of bacterial meningitis, with an added complication of encephalitis. In simpler terms, the poor girl, named Adya, had a severe infection in her brain, causing the brain to swell in response and damage her brainstem, which controlled basic body functions such as breathing. She had been admitted too late, which was why instead of recovering upon the administration of high antibacterial medications, she slipped into coma and as per the most recent check-up, was officially on life support.
