Page 133 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

I nodded. “What kind of test is that?”
“We will use a tube to see what’s inside his rectum. The test tube has a camera attached. You must get the baby
to the minor OT tomorrow morning.”
“We will, doctor,” I said.
The next morning, the on-duty nurse led us to the minor OT. It was next to the general ward. Surgeons were
busy setting up the instruments. Dr. Sampath Karl had a long metal tube in his hand.
“We must anesthetize him for this procedure,” said the other young surgeon. “But nothing to worry about. You
can wait outside, please.”
Choki and I sat on the bench beside the door. Often, I peeped through the door. The baby flinched as Dr.
Sampath Karl inserted the tube into his rectum. Other surgeons peeped in through the tube.
I sat down and whispered, “Oh, no! They’re inserting a metal tube into his rectum.”
“Relax,” said Choki, mumbling prayers. “Nothing would happen.”
But my mind wouldn’t quieten. I paced the corridor and shuffled to the ward and back to the bench. Again, I
peeped in. They were busy.
“Sit,” said Choki.
I sat beside her, tapping my feet on the floor.
Two hours later, Doctor Jacob came out. “It’s not clear.”
“Oh, really?” I said. “What next?”
“We will conduct another test tomorrow.”
“Same test?”
“A different test. We must take the baby to the OT.”
That evening, as I was returning to the lodge, the on-duty doctor at the triage beckoned me. “Did you donate
blood?” he asked.
“Must I donate blood for the test?”
He stared at me with an open mouth. “Of course.”
“But won’t the hospital provide it? My blood doesn’t match with the baby’s blood.”
“Any group will do. This is to replace the blood provided by the hospital. Please go to the blood bank right
away.”
I returned to the cabin. “The doctor told us to donate blood, Ama. My blood doesn’t match with the baby’s
blood. What should we do?”
“I will donate,” she said. “You can stay with the baby.”
“Okay. Come fast.”
“Come, Ata Gelong,” she said.
They returned after one and a half hours.
Choki said, “Ata Gelong donated the blood.”
“What?” I said. “Why not you?”
“They said I didn’t have blood.”
I grinned at Ata Gelong. “Thanks.”
At 9:00 pm, the nurse came and said, “Stop feeding the baby after 10:00 pm. We’ll take him to the OT at 9:00 am
tomorrow.”
I glanced at Choki. “Doesn’t it look like surgery to you?”
“The same thing happened at AMRI hospital, remember?” she said.
My jaws clenched. “How could I forget that?”
“Oops! I am confused,” said Choki, rubbing her hands.
Rinchen cried for milk the whole night. In turns, Choki and I rocked him around the room. At 9: 00 am, I went
to the duty room to see the nurse. “When are you taking my baby to the OT?”
“I didn’t receive any call from the surgeon,” she said. “I will inform you.”
Flustered, I returned to the cabin. “The nurse told us to wait.”
Choki rested her chin on her palms and sighed. “I am fed up with the deferral.”
Rinchen wailed on the top of his voice. I paced out to the corridor to see if the nurse was coming. At 11:00 am,
she escorted us to the OT. We waited at the door for another hour. Rinchen pointed at the stairs and cried.
“Not today, dear,” I said. “After they discharge you.”
Even that adorable duckling doll—a surgeon had given him to play with—didn’t pacify his trauma of surgery. He
seemed to know everything about what would happen to him. In his cute white operation gown, he dragged me to
the stairs and pointed down. It was heartbreaking. So, I cradled him in my arms and paced around.
“Oh, dear!” said Choki. “Why aren’t they calling us?”
“It’s time. Surgeon would call us any minute. It’s just a test. Don’t worry, please.”

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