19 January, 2008

Humanity in Medicine

Gently clutching the mini chess set in my hand, I was excited to set foot into Room 501, Joshua's room. I simply couldn't wait to see his childlike face light up with joy when he sees the gift I got for him on that special day. Indeed, it was Joshua's twelfth birthday, the third time he'd be celebrating his birthday with us here at St. Louis Hopsital.

"Good morning birthday boy!" I exclaimed as I entered the familiar room.

The blue-painted room, decorated with soft curtains and a vase-ful of fresh flowers above the television, was always full of energy owing to Joshua's playful sense of humor and unfailing optimism. It has become my favourite hang-out place amidst my chaotic internship duty schedule. However, there was something different in the air that day...

"Good morning." Joshua replied meekly from his bed and managed to squeeze a faint smile on his pale little face. His mother sat motionless by his bedside, without even acknowledging my presence, as if in a trance.

Joshua reached his right hand out for me. I went over and took his small palm in mine.

"Doc, it's finally time for me to go. Now is the time."

"Oh no, don't say that. You know Dr. Helen, your paediatrician will make you all better soon." I tried to reassure him.

Joshua merely shook his head and said,"No. It's time. I know it."

His words sharply pierced through my heart. I was frozen to the ground. Instantly, a torrent of images whirled through my mind. They were pictures depicting Joshua's painful struggle with Leukemia,the histopathological reports and diagnosis, the chemotherapy, radiotherapy he went through, but amongst this riot of memory there's always one portrait of his cheerful smile, as bright as the sun. How can such an angelic face be taken away from the face of earth?

I couldn't believe the news. I refused to believe it. My chest was getting heavy and I couldn't breathe in that room. So I ran out.

I stopped in the hallway to catch my breath. Leaning against the wall, a thousand questions swam across my mind. Why does it have to be Joshua? Why now? Why take him away now, after he's tried so hard to live? With the advancement in medicine, why is there no cure for leukemia? Why does an innocent kid has to suffer thus? How could God be so cruel?

Nonetheless, I know there's no answer to satisfy my questions. A sense of worthlessness and hopelessness overtook me. Suddenly I felt that my MBBS degree and years of clinical training seem to amount to nothing. I couldn't save a poor kid's life no matter how hard I tried. I was simply helpless and this wave of overpowering emotion made me completely oblivious of Dr Helen's presence right beside me.

"So I guess you found out too huh?" She asked calmly. I could only stare at her through teary eyes, speechless.

"There comes a moment in all practitioners' lives when they realise they can't save everbody. We are not Gods. Medicine is not invincible. We can only try our best." With such words of wisdom, she left me alone to pick up the pieces.

I pondered for a while, then straigtened myself up. I needed to go back into that room. I wanted to accompany Joshua through his last journey in life. I wished for him to know that even if medicine has failed him, humanity will not.

At that moment, I was not his doctor, I was just a fellow human being.