My first day at hospital

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Hola everyone, it's been a long time since we last had a chit-chat!

Actually, while writing Episode 86 about Antonio’s death in the hospital, so many flashbacks of my own hospital experience came to mind. So, I decided to share some with you.

When it was my first day at the hospital, I was so excited. I walked in with a fresh smile and a lot of enthusiasm. I was appointed to the medical ward.

I did my training at a government/public hospital, and as you guys may know, public hospitals usually cater to people who are economically challenged or cannot afford expensive treatment. Because of this, the patient ratio in these hospitals is extremely high. That ward was also packed with patients.

On my first day, I saw a family crying in the corridor. I soon found out that they had just lost a loved one. Watching them cry pierced my heart. But what saddened me even more was that—

Nobody was consoling them.

Doctors walked past them casually. Some nurses and staff were chatting and even laughing about unrelated things. I was shocked. How could doctors be so heartless? How could they be so indifferent to someone else’s pain?

I had a 30-hour shift on my first day. Late at night, a patient became critical. The patient’s attendant rushed to our doctor's room and informed us. My colleague turned to me and said, "Doctor, come with me. I’ll teach you how to handle these situations, including CPR and other emergency procedures."

I followed him and watched as he provided emergency care to the patient. But nothing was working. He then started CPR while the family members cried louder.

But the patient didn’t make it.

I watched as my colleague stopped CPR. He looked at me with a sigh and then asked me to do an ECG. The family members stared at us with hopeful eyes.

I did the ECG—it showed a straight line. I looked at my colleague. He whispered to me, "You declare the death."

I whispered back, "I won’t be able to do it."

Then he said, "Watch how I do it."

He turned to the family and calmly said, "He’s no more."

The family members broke down in loud cries. My colleague then asked one of them for the deceased’s ID card so we could issue the death certificate. His voice held no sadness.

One man from the family wiped his tears and handed over the ID card. My colleague took it without hesitation, walked to the counter, and started filling out the form. I stood there silently, observing everything.

But I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.

I placed my hand on a female attendant’s shoulder and said, "May God give you patience and grant your father a high rank in paradise."

Then I walked over to my colleague. He looked at me and said, "Doctor, you must be thinking that we are heartless, but we aren’t. A doctor cannot treat their patients properly if they don’t feel their pain. But at the same time, a doctor must not show sympathy—we need to have empathy, not sympathy."

I listened to him in silence. He smiled slightly and added, "Just wait a few more days. You’ll get used to this environment."

Then he called the man who had given him the ID card and asked for his signature and thumbprint on the death certificate. After handing over the document, he simply said, "Let’s go back to the room."

And just like that, he walked back to the doctor’s room.

I took one last look at the grieving family, sighed deeply, and then followed my colleague inside.

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So, this was my experience on my first day in the hospital.

Comment below if you want to know when and how I finally declared my first death during training.

Till then, take care and xoxo! :)

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