The Journey Matters

By Udayakumar DS

“Illness is the night side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.” ― Susan Sontag

I trudged tiredly on a dull winter evening to the AIIMS metro station. On the way, I walked past scores of people, patients, and their relatives, some on their way back home and some living right on those platforms besides the Aurobindo Marg. The place was covered partly by dust and mostly by remnants of food particles and empty plates distributed by some generous souls. I was awakened fully by the strong smell of urine as I approached gate number 2.

I walk past the same stench and bunch of unknown faces every day. I see the same scenes every day. I keep asking myself, what makes these people live in these surroundings? I felt sad for them. Those faces screamed at me of their struggles.

What keeps pushing them to survive? I thought.

As soon as I entered the metro station, just as any other day, I took the train to ITO and completely forgot what I was thinking a while ago. We just move on with our lives, don’t we?

I was sitting comfortably in the warmth of the metro car listening to music, totally dismissing the thoughts of those people living horrible life. When the Jor Bagh station came, an elderly gentleman, probably in his 70s, entered the train and stood near me. He was well dressed, tall with grey hair, and his eyes gleamed with an all-knowing look we see with some saint-like elderly individuals. I immediately got up to give him my seat. Standing beside him, I couldn’t help but look at this person with thoughts of what this person could be.

The next moment he saw me staring at him, thanked me, and asked me, ‘Are you a medico?’

I removed my headphones and replied, ‘Yes, Sir. How did u know?’

‘Just a hunch, I guess’, he said with a smile.

After a moment of awkward silence, I asked him, ‘Are you a medico, sir?’

He nodded and spoke, ‘I am Dr Siran. I was a cardiologist. I don’t practice anymore.’

‘Wow, great, Sir. I am Dr Sujay. I am doing my MD in AIIMS.’ I replied happily.

‘Good. How is it?’ he asked as a burly young man standing near me with a worn-out look and a dark patch around his eyes kept staring at us. Maybe the poor guy was drowned by thoughts like I get most of the time, or he was genuinely interested in our conversation.

‘It is so hectic, Sir. I feel many times why I should do so much hard work? Lots of questions arise in me. What are we going to achieve?’

‘Aren’t you helping people live healthily?’ he asked tersely.

Maybe my tired mind made me spill all the negative thoughts. I said, ‘We are just prolonging people’s lives, and I see so many of them suffering outside every big hospital. Most of these people are just living in the blind hope that they will be cured or get answers from these hospitals. When in fact, most of these people have either an incurable disease or a disease for which the cure is totally unaffordable by them.’

‘Yes, Sujay, you are correct. In an environment where we are all exposed to so many chemicals and microbes, the only guarantee life has is we all will become a patient one day. But that doesn’t mean that you should give up.’

‘Sir. There are so many of them,’ I replied pessimistically.

‘You are young. It’s natural to get such doubts. More the number of patients more the need for doctors like you. Think of life as this train. We are moving from one station to another, and that is life and death. These are the only definite stations in our lives. Between these stations, we live our entire life; some stations are hospitals, some are parks, some are for mere enjoyment, and some are for insurmountable sufferings. Unfortunately for some, the journey is very short; it ends soon after it begins, and for even more unfortunate few, it goes on long and painfully kept in existence by doctors like us. It doesn’t mean that their journey should end. They travel to give that time to their near and dear ones or use that journey to get things done for their dear ones. No journey is without purpose, no matter how short it is. For only a lucky few, the journey remains blissful throughout. Our job is really to keep them safe during this journey, Sujay. Be proud of what we do.’

I couldn’t refute those words. ‘Yes, sir, I will do my work with that pride.’

‘I am sure you would. Just remain optimistic.’

I nodded. After a moment, I asked him, ‘Sir, I have a question. This keeps popping up so many times in my mind. What if I try, but I fail to save a life. Will I be able to live with myself? After all, we are meant to prevent death?’

‘Ha-ha. This question is natural in every young medico.’ He laughed and stood up to talk to me. Our observer gleefully took the seat and continued keenly listening to our conversation.

‘I will tell you a story. One young doctor in his mid-thirties was working as a senior resident in cardiology at AIIMS. He had seen many cardiac arrests and must have revived many with his own hands. He could recognise ventricular fibrillation just by looking at the patient’s body becoming rigid moments before it happened and must have done so many successful cardioversions. He had gone to his relative’s wedding in the Jalgaon district in Maharashtra. It was in the 1970s when this happened. The wedding went well, and everyone was having their meal when someone rushed to this young doctor saying his mother had collapsed. He rushed to where they had kept her on a cot with people panicking around her. Some were rushing to get water, and one person asked for juice. As soon as he reached, he could see his mom lying on the cot in a semiconscious state, looking at him and whispering that she was in pain. She talked only that much. He asked everyone to move away and give her space. He asked his uncle to get a vehicle to take her to the nearest hospital, 10 miles away. In his mind, he was thinking about what was going on and just praying that she should not go into cardiac arrest. His worried father stood beside him, asking, ‘What’s happening, son? Is she fine?’.

He could not answer that question. While shifting her to the car, she went into cardiac arrest. You know how it happens, right. Her limbs started becoming rigid, her elbows flexed, and then they collapsed flaccidly on the cot. He started CPR. He knew in his heart that she won’t make it. With no medications and nothing to intervene with, he was like any other person there, watching the last moments of his mom. Within the next few seconds, her soul had departed this world, and he knew it. The relatives didn’t understand that; everyone wanted her to be taken to the hospital. She was taken to the hospital. On the way, in the car, he was crying, unable to answer his uncle’s repetitive question, ‘What happened? What happened?’.

Then he cried out loud that ‘She is no more, uncle. She is no more.’

All he could do after reaching the hospital was leave the car and sit outside and cry endlessly. He was trained for this scenario and knew everything, yet he was useless to his mom.

So, what a young person like you should know is that there are situations where you have absolutely no control over them. All your training and experience could help you to do the right things and wait for a response. You can do only that much. You have to surrender to the fact that not all things can be controlled by us. We are a tiny speck of dust in this vast universe. Do as much good as you can and end your journey with a bag of good deeds.

My station has come. I should leave Sujay.’

‘Thank you, sir, for inspiring me.’

‘Nice meeting you’ He shook his hands, and I sensed a faint layer of tears filling his eyes.

As the train entered the station, I asked him, ‘May I ask who that doctor was? Is it a real story, Sir?’

‘Yes, Sujay. She was my mom. And I stood there helpless. Remember, in between the stations of life and death is our journey. My journey is coming to an end. I don’t know how long it will be yours. No one knows. So make it count.’

He left the metro car, leaving a profound impact on me. I was transformed after that day.

As JK Rowling rightly said, “Do not pity the dead, Pity the living. Above all, those who live without love”.

Our job is to improve the journey and not worry about the unknown.

Let’s make our journey count.

By Udayakumar DS