I have been working in a covid ICU for the past couple of months, but last night was a nightmare. As doctors, we see the joy of life when we see a newborn baby. But we are also the ones who witness the sadness of death very closely.
The very last night, I saw my patient in covid ICU, nearly aged 47, suddenly getting in a serious condition due to diabetic ketoacidosis.
I tried to revive the patient twice after CPR, but he slipped into a coma and became unconscious. That is when I saw tears rolling down his eyes. I could feel his pain. It is told to us that when people pass away, their lifetime of memories flashes in front of their eyes.
People cry, and they feel sorrow. It broke my heart to be a patron of his sorrow and pain. Nonetheless, I had to remain strong and appear fearless in front of the patient and his relatives while explaining his critical condition. But even after a lot of trials of treatment and management, when I saw the patient passing away, yes, I felt helpless too.
I stayed strong until the last moment, but when I reached home, a sudden burst of emotional sadness hit me, and I could not control my tears- l broke down.
That is how life goes on for us. Even though we have a rigid professional attitude, we are as sensitive as everybody. I guess that is life, and that is how we are supposed to take it because, despite all our efforts and education, we can only do so much.
It broke my heart last night, and it does so almost every other day- given the pandemic situation.
I wish I could be more than just a doctor on some days, but people tell me that what I do is no less than a miraculous deed. I guess it is what it is, or is it?