Page 98 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“My prayers for your baby, sir,” he said and drove away.
A nurse walked into our cabin and said, “Ambulance is waiting outside. Take your baby to the operating theatre.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, picking the baby. “Come, Ama.”
When the nurse took the baby into the operating theatre, I heaved a sigh of relief. I felt the baby was in god’s
hand. We shuffled into the lobby.
“You must be hungry,” Aunt Choden said. “Have dinner.”
“Yes, Aunty,” I said. “I am starving.”
She laid the hot case on the bench. “Help yourself, please.”
“I am not hungry,” said Choki, leaning on the bench.
“Please take,” I said. “You have taken nothing since last night.”
Aunt Choden poured us tea. “I brought chicken soup for you.”
But Choki had little.
Two hours later, Dr. John beckoned to us. “Operation was successful. Nurses will take care of everything, okay?”
The corner of my mouth rose as I bowed to him. “Thank you, doctor.”
“I will come to see him tomorrow. Good night.”
“Goodnight, doctor.”
A nurse in a green gown called out my name: “Dorji Wangdi?”
I scurried to her. “Yes?”
“Father?”
“I am.”
“Take the baby back to the pediatric ward. Wait here, I’ll get the baby.”
“Sure.”
She brought the baby. “Please take care of the tubes on his abdomen.”
“Sure.” I picked the baby up into my arms and walked to the ambulance. “Everyone, come.”
In the ambulance, Choki held his tiny flabby fingers. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He looks fine.”
The next morning, our medic came to see the baby. “I am glad the baby is fine.” His eyes glowered with
profound pride. “I’m going back today.” He caressed with the baby’s cheeks and walked down the stairs and turned
back. “I know you’ll take good care of your baby.”
“Thank you for escorting the baby,” I said, flashing him a radiant smile. “You all saved him.”
“It’s my duty. Bye.”
I waved.
Choki tucked up the baby’s shirt and said, “Oh, no! The baby’s abdomen is all lacerated. And many tubes.”
“Please don’t panic,” I said, standing behind her. “That’s okay. Our baby will get well soon.”
In the evening, Dr. John came and examined the baby. “The baby is fine. I will explain the procedure of the
surgery. It is called Colostomy. In this surgery, the large intestine is cut up and diverted through a stoma.” He made
a fine diagram on the paper. “Do you know stoma?”
“No, doctor,” I said. “What is that?”
“Stoma is an opening in the abdominal wall where a pouch for collecting feces is attached.” He tucked up the
baby’s shirt. “This is a stoma. And we call this a colostomy bag. It is a waterproof pouch for stool and other waste
from the body. You must empty it at regular intervals.”
“Oh, I see.”
“He needs intensive care. Nurses will do everything.”
“We would appreciate it, doctor. Thank you.”
“We will discharge him next week if everything goes as expected, okay?”
“We would be glad, doctor.”
A week later, the nurse said to Choki, “Have you seen this before?”
“No,” said Choki.
“Never mind,” she said. “I will teach you to fix this on your baby’s stoma.” She measured the stoma and cut a
hole in the bag. “Remove the adhesive cover and fix it like this.” She attached it to the baby’s stoma. “Got it?”
“I got it,” said Choki, cutting one herself. “I saw nurses fix it.”
“Don’t waste it,” she said. “It’s very expensive.”
“I won’t.”
“Always handle them with clean hands. Since stoma is an open wound, there’s a risk of infections. You will get
the discharge summary at the counter.”
A gigantic grin spread across my face. “Thank you, nurse.”

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