<p>I asked a close friend of mine, a renowned obstetrician, “Listen buddy, there are several incidents you should be proud of, list a few.”</p>.<p>He said, “It is delivering of a baby, and hearing its first helpless cry, as though I gave the life.” </p>.<p>“How about the other extreme, when you felt the other way,” I asked. He looked saddened, “When I lose a life, right in front of me, I feel miserable.” </p>.<p>I said it’s after all part of the profession. Did he not learn to detach himself mentally so that he can continue to serve the sickly without getting burdened by such negative feelings and fears? He replied, “Easier said, Gnani, but when I knew, secretly though, that the loss of life is because of my carelessness, I feel wretched and helpless. All my glory and praise from the world on my healing touch look meaningless.”</p>.<p>I am sure many noble doctors feel the same way. Why only doctors? We may come across such situations. Mine came much later in life, almost towards the end of my professional career as a foundry man.</p>.<p>The call came late in the evening on a Karthigai Deepam day, that a worker at the factory I was heading has had a serious burn injury. Liquid metal at near 14000C splashed over him, he was being rushed to the hospital, and I drove over there immediately. The biggest relief was it was a hospital renowned for its competence. He had suffered a third degree burn, but the doctors were confident of a recovery.</p>.<p>The next two days saw him improving, and the wife and I went to the ward and saw him getting ready for a late night plastic surgery. We consoled his very young wife with a baby on her waist that everything would be fine. The company and the hospital would not spare any efforts and please cheer up. We returned home.</p>.<p>Around midnight, I got a call that he died on the operation table.</p>.<p>I am not talking about the procedural aspects of handling a death in the premises, which was enormous, but the well deserved devastating and shameful state I was reduced to for not preventing the death. It lingers on even today.</p>.<p>All the education and professional success go in to oblivion in the face of such helplessness. </p>
<p>I asked a close friend of mine, a renowned obstetrician, “Listen buddy, there are several incidents you should be proud of, list a few.”</p>.<p>He said, “It is delivering of a baby, and hearing its first helpless cry, as though I gave the life.” </p>.<p>“How about the other extreme, when you felt the other way,” I asked. He looked saddened, “When I lose a life, right in front of me, I feel miserable.” </p>.<p>I said it’s after all part of the profession. Did he not learn to detach himself mentally so that he can continue to serve the sickly without getting burdened by such negative feelings and fears? He replied, “Easier said, Gnani, but when I knew, secretly though, that the loss of life is because of my carelessness, I feel wretched and helpless. All my glory and praise from the world on my healing touch look meaningless.”</p>.<p>I am sure many noble doctors feel the same way. Why only doctors? We may come across such situations. Mine came much later in life, almost towards the end of my professional career as a foundry man.</p>.<p>The call came late in the evening on a Karthigai Deepam day, that a worker at the factory I was heading has had a serious burn injury. Liquid metal at near 14000C splashed over him, he was being rushed to the hospital, and I drove over there immediately. The biggest relief was it was a hospital renowned for its competence. He had suffered a third degree burn, but the doctors were confident of a recovery.</p>.<p>The next two days saw him improving, and the wife and I went to the ward and saw him getting ready for a late night plastic surgery. We consoled his very young wife with a baby on her waist that everything would be fine. The company and the hospital would not spare any efforts and please cheer up. We returned home.</p>.<p>Around midnight, I got a call that he died on the operation table.</p>.<p>I am not talking about the procedural aspects of handling a death in the premises, which was enormous, but the well deserved devastating and shameful state I was reduced to for not preventing the death. It lingers on even today.</p>.<p>All the education and professional success go in to oblivion in the face of such helplessness. </p>