Being Present

Have you ever woken up and realized that if you don’t get up immediately you will be late for work? Had that feeling that morning and begged God for just 5 more minutes. Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the bathroom hoping cold water on my face will wake me up to the fact that patients will be queuing for attention soon. Began my walk to the hospital and wondered if Baba T (our past retirement age interpreter) would have already started shouting at patients having in his much needed early morning nap! Oh God, please let him translate exactly what I ask and not his views this time. Thinking about breakfast as I walked the long, dusty, winding road to work, missing mum’s fried eggs. Even before I got into the office, I was doing quick consultations on the corridors. It is like patients’ symptoms multiply in expression once they see the doctor. Well my day was on its way already and it seemed like just another day in the office till they brought her in. I had never seen so much blood. Baba T was asleep so I managed in the little Hausa I know to ask ‘me damua’ (what happened). They rattled in Hausa. I picked key words…pregnancy…at home…blood. Meaning: she delivered at home and has been bleeding uncontrollably since. Felt for a pulse. Barely perceptible, I had to act fast. Rushing her to the maternity ward, setting an IV line for fluids and blood, and wondering why I wore my best shirt today... no blood stains please! 2 pints of blood later and with the bleeding stopped, work had finished and yes my shirt was now blue with blood spots but I promised the woman biscuit if she got better and she smiled. That smile told me that the worst was over.

Three days later on her way she came to see me again in the outpatient clinic and was saying thank you and all the blessings she could pour. I was smiling and though I couldn’t understand most of what she said, the gratitude she felt exuded like water flowing from a burst pipe. That was enough to warm my heart. She brightened my day with something so little: thank you. The little things in life do count. They count BIG. In that moment I realized why I wake up every morning despite my bed begging me to stay, despite the low pay and over work. It’s for this feeling you get when you are a part of God’s miracle. It’s for this peace that fills the heart that makes you grateful to be the doctor that was there when this patient needed saving. It’s the little things we do as doctors that keep me on that long, dusty winding road to work.