Tuesday, March 21, 2017

A Night Visitor

In all my years at Little Mary’s hospital, I’ve witnessed numerous tragedies and sparse miracles. I have seen patients with guaranteed premature death certificates, walk out of here with springs for heels. I have also see those, fresh as a rose, fall prey to the night visitor. As doctors we do not create miracles, we witness them. Despite not being directly acquainted with the night visitor, I have seen its magic more than enough. And it leaves me breathless, every time.
It was 1999 and I was in my 1st year of training. My first practical exam was simple – to assist a terminally ill patient with Euthanasia. All I had to do was pull some chords and it would be over. The moment I entered the room, my eyes lay on the crippled figure on the bed lying motionless – ready to die. His pale, crackled skin looked as if it could hold on no longer. His body was rigid and bent at odd angles. His eyes were the color of clouds on a rainy day, all the light seemed to have drained out. He caught my gaze and I knew then, he had given up completely.
My patient, Mr. Rogers, was connected to various different machines, each performing functions his body could not. I realized then, he was a grotesque mixture of technology, prolonging a life that doesn’t want to live. He couldn’t do the things I could – to take a stroll in the park, or have a picnic under the stars. It wasn’t a surprise that he chose to quit breathing. His soul had departed long before he had.
A small chair was placed in between Mr. Roger’s bed and the machine that showed his heart rate. I sat down and my patient looked at me, the wrinkles in his eyes spoke the stories he couldn’t tell. He expected me to remove his oxygen mask or cut his food supply. Instead, I took his freezing fragile hand in mine, gripped it tight and smiled.  I began to describe the beautiful scenery outside his window – how the beams of light played with the cotton clouds, how the lush green field enveloped the earth; I figured it had been a while since he’d even heard of the world existing beyond the confines of the hospital. A weak smile played on his lips and for the first time in a while, his body relaxed and a calming sensation washed over him.

Time elapsed like spilling water and before I knew it, it was midnight. Mr. Rogers had listened to all my simple stories as if they were witchcraft. At one point I felt his hand slipping away from mine, his eyes slowly closing before sealing shut altogether. I looked at him in disbelief and immediately checked the heart rate machine. It displayed a straight line. I knew at that moment, the night visitor had paid him a visit. It had finally granted Mr. Rogers what he had been seeking – eternal peace. 

~ Noyolee

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