Covid diaries

 

The Advent.

First time I heard news of covid quivering was while I was at Sundarbanns, January 2020, breathing easy with my family. Rudimentary take was, be at ease. Odds of being like sars h1n1. The concern had raised later, with the proceedings at Italy. The unsettling speculation was how a developing over populated country would cope with a disease that was afflicting the European nations. Still I waited for steps being taken by frontrunners of my hospital. And it did cause concern with the first gathering that was addressed by Shantanu sir and Michael sir. But for the common man, the attitude did not show much of concern. The advent did pose entirely a different response. Its just like if you cast an obscure threat to a group of people, the responses of each one will be different, and chances of a reasonable answer will be nominal. Yet the preparation that was set up by the government was fairly good, even if not rational. It was 13^th April, 2020, the fateful night, when the news of the first covid case had brought the city down on its knees for a prayer. And the case happened to be a benevolent beloved figure in medical fraternity. There was definitely no soul in my discretion who wasn’t daunted by that news that night. The unknown entity had driven in fear, the fear gave birth to arbitrary retort, that channeled into stigmatization and intolerance, further leading to anger. 15^th April, 2020, I was woken up early morning to the dreading news of demise of Sir. As I kept up with the tribulations across his hospital, his uncouth sepulture. All just had come in to add woes. 26^th April, was the evening when I had got first call for covid duty, and the patient was another valiant soul from medical fraternity itself. As he himself battled the unknown, had seen Sir withering infront of his eyes, everything seemed pretty uncertain. But he stood up to tell his tale and serve the society during the tenacious calamity.

Sweet November.

Since the advent of the strained circumstances, my journey towards fatherhood had also set in. Times had been like I stayed away from family for weeks, as my wife started relishing the quickenings. As I battled the hours in PPE, with blurred specs, causing headache, shoes soaking in sweat, nose constantly itching, the regular pang behind the ears because of mask, and the uncertainty of the patients’ fate. One stirring evening was when I stood at my window, enkindled my leaf, as through the fog I beamed the man in red jacket strolling alone helplessly in hospital parking, pondering over the next step to do, as his wife’s death body I had just packed up. I called up my wife and narrated the sad incident. Times rolled on like that, until November came, the due date month for my wife. As I was stuck with fever and cough, as I sat in quarantine, I messaged my wife “I think I finally got it”. The following day I tested positive, I just told myself “why you came so late”. That night it rained as I hummed the lines : nothing lasts forever, even no November rain. I did recover soon and could attend the first cry of my child in the aisles of O.T. That made the journey to a sweet November.

The Cataclysm.

The first wave did waver down gently, leaving some bittersweet memories down the lane. As the country opened lockdown, disaster lay ahead with origin of the delta variant. By March, as India was getting absorbed into the peak of covid, we waited for the wave to come to us. I remember talking to my friend in Delhi in March, as I told him “we are still waiting for a case, what about you”. He replied “pray that you don’t get what we are facing.” We thought we were prepared for it. We were wrong. We were caught on wrong foot when admitted cases went from 7 at the start of my duty in April, to 21 in one week, to 40 in two weeks, to 96 in next two weeks. One day while on duty I had five intubated patients and I mulled over on thin ice as to recovery odds of my ventilated patients and averting ventilation for the ones on HFNC. Spending 16 hours in PPE, with less than six hours sleep per day, as I saw my grueling colleague speak out “I can’t do it anymore”, I really wondered the plight of Delhi, as I saw the picture of burning pyres, graveyard full of ashes. By July, cases showed some downward trend. While on non covid duty, as I walked past the door of covid ward, a single glimpse of the inside evoked memoirs of tinging smell of sweat, blurred vision, the confusion about next step for the deteriorating patient, and yes the weariness. After reaching home, as I lay flat on my bed at night, I wondered what a respite would it be with no phone ring rattling you. That was cataclysm.

The Habit.

“Its okay to be positive” a healthcare worker saying it casually at the door of ER. That’s the habit. I remember when I had failed in Anatomy in first year MBBS, it was the most inconceivable thing for a school topper to experience. My Anatomy H.O.D, saw my doomed face, and uttered “Wonder what makes human beings the most assertive creature on earth! You throw a man in the worst possible ruins and he will ascertain how to carve a remarkable life out of it in some years.” As I see around today and think of April 2020, I understand how humanity can live it up against all adversities.

“Mankind was born on Earth, it was never meant to die here” Cooper to Murph, Interstellar.