Page 118 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

His crying soon trailed away, and for a moment, everything became so silent. I couldn’t hold back the tears,
remembering the blissful moments we had spent.
Choki buried her head in my chest and sobbed. “Why is God punishing my baby?”
“Keep faith in God,” I said. “He’ll be okay.”
We embraced each other and sobbed as people watched us. In the waiting room, I read the baby’s horoscope.
Two and half hours later, I traipsed to the OT door and peeped in. A young nurse walked out.
“Excuse me, nurse?” I said. “Doctor John’s operating my baby. Do you have any idea about it?”
“Oh, I see,” she said, “He was supposed to be operated on last week, wasn’t he?”
My heart thudded in my chest. “Yes.”
“His intestines are full of infection. It will take time.”
Dr. John came out after one hour with slumped shoulders.
“How’d it go, doctor?” I said.
“His intestines are full of infections. It’s in the hands of God. Let’s pray for the baby.”
Flustered, I watched him slogging down the stairs.
“What did the doctor say?” asked Choki.
“He said the operation went well.”
“Really? But the doctor looks unhappy.”
“Sorry, he said Rinchen is full of infection.”
“Oh, God,” she said, covering her mouth.
“Dorji Wangdi?” called the nurse, leaning out of the OT door.
“Yes.”
“Back door, please.”
I scurried to the back door. Rinchen groaned and squirmed on a gurney, eyes closed. All I could do was sniffle a
lot. Gently wrapping him in a blanket, I walked to the ambulance. Back in the ward, the on-duty nurses rushed to his
bed.
“Hurry, IV,” said Mrs. Tara, the head nurse.
There were five tubes pierced into his abdomen, and a catheter was inserted into the rectum. Each tube—they
said—was vital. Nurses transfused blood through the intravenous line, but it stopped soon. They pricked him on his
other hand. Veins were all collapsed. They shaved the left side of his head and searched for a vein. The poor baby
flinched every time they pricked the needle on his body.
“Rinchen,” said Choki, gently shaking him. “Open your eyes, please.”
Rinchen opened his eyes and wailed and went back to sleep.
“I got one here,” said a nurse. “Hurry, pass me the line.”
It stopped again. They pricked the other side of his head. My heart wrenched seeing our poor baby flinch every
time they pricked him.
“Phew,” said the youngest nurse. “Maybe we should wait for the surgeon.”
Rinchen’s lips turned pale and dry. Towards the evening, Rinchen stopped opening his eyes. His deep breath
echoed in that cabin, and he was breathing last, any moment.
“I think we should call Dr. John,” I said. “The baby is dying.”
“Do it fast!” blurted Choki.
I rushed to the nurse room. “Excuse me, nurse, our baby is getting worse. Call the surgeon, please.”
“We informed him,” said Mrs. Tara. “He should be here any moment.”
Dr. John arrived a few minutes later and said, “How’s the baby?”
“Not good, doctor,” I said. “He’s not even opening his eyes.”
He checked the baby’s eyes and said, “Did he pee?”
“No, doctor.”
“I will return with my instrument.”
The baby’s condition worsened with each passing second, but Dr. John didn’t return. I paced around. “Why is
Dr. John not coming?”
“Go out and see,” said Choki.
I scurried out to the entrance. Dr. John was not there. I trotted down to the gate and back to the parking lot. Dr.
John was nowhere. He didn’t turn up even after five minutes. So, I went back to the cabin.
“Why is the doctor not coming,” said Choki. “Go see again.”
I hassled out to the gate and searched for him. He had not turned up, so I scurried back to the ward to see the
baby. The baby gasped and writhed. In their last desperate attempt to save him, the nurses searched for a vein.
I rushed out to the parking lot and glanced at the buildings above the ward. “Does Dr. John reside here? If so,
which one would be his apartment?” At the labyrinth, I glanced at the buildings again, not knowing which apartment

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