Page 94 - FATE & DESTINY
P. 94

FATE & DESTINY


               “Treat this case as urgent, please. You may take the baby to Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital,
            Thimphu. They have a German pediatric surgeon, but again, there’s a risk on this long journey.”
               Stunned, Choki and I exchanged glances.
               “What is your decision?” asked the pediatrician.
               “Give us some time, doc,” I said. “We have to discuss.”
               “Take your time, please. I’ll be in the nurse room.”
               My brain worked more than a machine and my heart thudded, yet I couldn’t decide. “What should we do, Ama?
            We’re between the devil and the deep blue sea. I mean, both options have grave risks.”
               “Whatever you decide,” said Choki, wiping tears from her eyes.
               “Um, let them operate our baby here. What do you say?”
               She nodded. “Okay.”
               I told the pediatrician.
               “Are you sure this is your final decision?” she asked.
               “Yes, doctor.”
               You still have time. “We’re sending patients to Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital, today.”
               “Um, we’ve already decided, doc.”
               “Fine, get ready for tomorrow’s operation.”
               Back in the ward, I paced forth and back, reconsidering if we had taken the right decision. “Do you think we did
            the right thing?”
               “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask Aunt Choden.”
               “Oh, yes! We should get her advice.”
               So, I scurried out and dialed her number. “Aunty, we’re at the Mongar Referral Hospital with our baby. Doctors
            are operating on him tomorrow.”
               “What?” she blurted. “What disease is it, anyway?”
               “Doctor said he had an intestinal obstruction.”
               “What’s that?”
               “It’s the intestine related. His abdomen is swollen.”
               “Is there a surgeon?”
               “No pediatric surgeon, but other surgeons will perform the surgery.”
               “So, you agreed?”
               “Yes, Aunty.”
               “Why didn’t you call me before you signed the paper? It’s not late. Cancel the operation. Bring the baby to Jigme
            Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital.”
               “But I don’t think the baby will make it to Thimphu.”
               “He will make it.”
               I scurried back to the ward and said, “Ama, Aunt Choden wants us to take the baby to JDWNRH, what do you
            say?”
               “Really?” she said, getting up. “Let’s take him.”
               “Hold on, I’ll ask the nurse.” I shuffled into the nurse room. “Nurse, are babies operated on here?”
               “The youngest patient ever operated on was an eight-year-old boy, last year,” she said.
               I gasped. “What? Oh, no! What have I done? Nurse, I think I should take my baby to JDWNRH.”
               Her eyes sparkled. “Go tell the doctor. She would be in her chamber.”
               “Yeah.” I rushed and knocked on the door. “Excuse me, doctor?”
               “Yes?” she said, craning out.
               “I want to take my baby to JDWNRH.”
               “Why?”
               “We had a second thought, so we want to take him.”
               “Fine,” she said, picking the phone, “I hope there is a pediatric surgeon there.”
               I crossed my fingers as they conversed in English. “Please say yes!”
               She hung the phone and said, “Get ready, I will arrange a medic for the baby.”
               “Oh, thank you,” I said, looking up. “What about the ambulance, doctor?”
               “Since you said you didn’t want to go, we sent other patients in. You must arrange your transport.”
               “Right away, doctor?” I said and hurried back to the ward.
               “What’d she say?” asked the nurse.
               “She consented, nurse. I must arrange transport.”
               “I will tell the ambulanceman to wait,” she said.
               “Please do,” I said and hurried back to the pediatric ward. “Get ready, Ama.”

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