Two Thumbs Down

One death in a 24-hour duty is almost an ordinary thing at the time when I was working as the only doctor in a 50-bed secondary hospital in a province south of the metro. Adult deaths are more common and tolerable. The death of a young patient, however, is vigorously stirring. The death of two babies in a row shatters me to pieces.

Two years ago this week, I spent the second half of 72-hour shift resuscitating newborns. One, a premature baby boy, had been intubated for a day after developing pneumonia. He kept me awake for most of my shift due to decreasing oxygen saturation every two hours or so, but he was a fighter. A little tap on the foot to make him cry usually did the trick, but at 9 am the following day he didn't even grimace. He kept his eyes closed and maintained bluish-gray skin despite all our efforts to make him go pink again. The parents themselves told us to stop; they've finally realized it was time to let go. It was a pain to even look at the clock to document the time of the baby's death.

After a few tears, I got back to seeing other patients. In the afternoon, a pregnant lady was rushed to the ED complaining that her baby was moving a lot less since that morning. We did a stat C-section, and out came a lifeless baby with a familiar facies - that of one with Down's Syndrome. This baby girl never let out a cry; she was plump and weighed appropriately for her age, but she was practically lifeless. Since she was a niece of a friend, I tried my very best to resuscitate her even when my thumbs hurt very badly from pumping two hearts - hers & of the baby boy who died earlier. After an hour, we stopped our futile efforts. I stared at the clock in disbelief - an hour ago we were recording her time of birth; now we're writing down the time of her death.

photo from Touching Souls

There it was again, the cold feeling on my palms and soles. My sore thumbs went numb and my legs felt like jelly. I was tired and sleepy and hungry - I do not another emotion or status, least of all sad or devastated or frustrated.

I sat slumped at the OR floor and cried. Really hard.