The final days of Paediatrics saw a surplus in the case load as the dengue season had kicked in. On some days we had as many as 24 admissions in a day including the ward ones in NICU, PICU, Special ward and the general paediatric wards.
One particular evening there was a case of Paraquat poisoning which was brought to us and we promptly shifted her to the PICU. Now, Paraquat, unfortunately is one of those chemicals which have no specific antidote. The chances of survival are modest when the patient is immediately given activated charcoal based elimination, hemodialysis and hemoperfusion which are just technical terms for us here since we don't have those high end facilities. While B Sir explained the bleak outcome to the family, they had their hopes pinned on a miraculous survival despite the fairly large amount consumed by the teenager over a trivial fight. However it was the following day when M Sir saw the patient and immediately made arrangements to shift the patient out to a private centre where they had some hope of receiving the specified treatment.
Yet, it was not meant to be since the private set up only squeezed their dwindling funds and sent them packing. At this point, the whole scenario; ( the inconsolable mother, a helpless father, a girl consumed by pain from within as the chemical corroded her from within even as she was in grief over her decision, doctors having their own limitations..) had me in a state of turmoil that couldn't be explained. We sent them packing to Indira Gandhi again in a free ambulance and all I could do was sit and cry as I wrote discharge summaries of moderately sick patients. Never had I seen poverty cripple a family that they are helpless to save their child. The anguish in the father's eyes as he watched his daughter struggle with the tubes attached to her even as he knew that a government facility was the best he could give.
In the course of my postings, I saw several other girls between 14-17 brought with a history of phenol/ organophosphorous/ calamine lotion/ Harpic consumption and what concerned me was how these children had decided to take this drastic step after any altercation/ failure/ disappointment. Perhaps it has something to do with parenting as well. If only these girls could talk to their parents about what they were going through, if only the parents had the presence of mind to gauge the emotions of a teenager and react accordingly; tomorrow's adults will be a stronger lot who face challenges head on.
There was Hemavathi from Bangalore who stayed with us for over a week since her typhoid fever was one that did not respond to the usual antibiotics. Initially her parents voiced their concerns about the treatment but in time, they had faith in us and left in a happy state. There was also a case of caecal volvulus with the complaint of abdominal distension. Here again, there was little that we could do since it was more of a paediatrics surgical intervention that was required. It was later that it surfaced that the infant had been investigated in the past and they were aware of the child's precarious condition yet had not taken any proactive steps on it. While some parents are examples of neglect and lack of concern, others are obsessed with every action of their child and promptly notify us about the child's food/sleep/bladder and expect adequate response from us for the same.
Mohammed Fizul was another 1 month 1 week old baby brought to us with an NS1 positive report and a falling platelet count. Overnight, he received transfusion so that he shot up from 9000/microL to a respectable number in the next few days. In the midst of discharge summaries, fresh investigations, rounds and OPD, when the father comes and thanks you for your involvement, you feel a wave of happiness wash away your tiredness, you smile and get back to your work with a burst of motivation.
There was Jeevan, a 1.5 year old who came to us one evening with respiratory distress and a low oxygen saturation. His XRAY did not look good and the underlying pathology remained undiagnosed but he was put on treatment to improve his saturation and general status. His brownish tangled unkempt hair and pale look spoke of his living condition but the concern in his mother's eyes revealed how they regretted that they had neglected his illness. The following day, an ICD was inserted by the surgeon Dr B to drain what appeared to be pus and pockets of air. His condition improved and we got a CT scan done at the hospital which showed a synpneumonic effusion of infective etiology. My shift ended before his discharge but I was told that he made gradual progress in the following days.
There was Mohammad Hamdan who was brought gasping to the OPD and immediately rushed to the PICU. HE was eventually put on the ventilator and given a dose of antiepileptics and sedatives but he remained restless through the night long ordeal. The following morning, M Sir did an LP and drained CSF which I again rushed towards the virology lab along with the usual investigations. He was extubated subsequently but it is these cases, where you don't know why a particular symptom is occurring that you are worried more because you have a list of possible etiologies to rule out.
The last days of Paediatrics were busy but memorable. Be it the short talks with my P2 professors and ma'am enquiring about my welfare and making sure I had enough food/ sleep, the friendly banter with the sisters who made sure I didn't go hungry on my last day and shared their meal, the rushed breaks and the intermittent sleep, the moments of joy as you hold a chubby little toddler in your arms and look into its innocent eyes even as it doubtfully evaluates your stethoscope to the moment when a parent says it was good to have you as our doctor, Paediatrics was a journey I hope to relive.
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