The OT

They wheeled her inside the OT at 4.30 am. Or what she thought was an OT. It was a room just outside the OT where they kept all the equipments etc. She was in queue as there was another patient inside. Not again, she sighed to herself, queue here also.
She saw her doctor in the surgical attire. She had never seen her doctor like this before. She used to always be dressed up in a silk/ starched cotton sari with make –up to perfection, matching eye shadow, jewels and all. And here she was in the blue surgical attire and not at all her usual talkative self. She watched her doctor as she said a silent prayer to herself and perhaps mentally prepared for the surgery and felt a strange mix of camaraderie and alienation. Then it struck her perhaps for the first time that she was not just one in so many cases for her doctor- like they usually say. But she was one of her many “key result areas” like the HR people say in any other profession. She was accountable for the outcome and her performance appraisal would be based on all the cases she handles. Hence every case needed the utmost care and perfection. Perhaps that is why the doctor never completely delegates her case to the junior doctors. Even if it is a simple exercise of removing the stitches she insists that she takes the final look. And when it comes to checking the baby’s heart beat, she repeats it inspite of the fact that one would have taken the scan a few minutes ago and seen the baby’s heart galloping.

The other patient came out from the OT softly groaning. She made a mental note to not to groan when she is wheeled out of the OT, but to bravely bear the pain.

As she was taken in and the preparation being done, she asked her doctor how long the operation would take, eagerly waiting for the anesthesia to be administered so that she could escape from the dull pain that was going on for at least 12 hours now. Soon was the only word she heard and then breathe deeply as she drifted off to a welcoming, 45 minute long anesthesia induced sleep.