A doctor in the eye of the storm

Even though there was little time to read anything in too much detail, I felt pleased. I had left home in good spirits, after saying bye to my mother, brother and wife. On the way to work, I began to receive many calls of congratulations, as well as calls from the college asking me to reach quickly.

‘How much faster can I go?’ I wondered. ‘I cannot possibly fly!’

I reached the campus by 8:30 a.m. and found that the main gate was closed, and entry was being allowed only to those with ID cards. Hundreds of reporters and thousands of cops swarmed the premises. Many local leaders from the BJP were inside the premises as well as outside, opposition party leaders were shouting slogans asking for the resignation of the chief minister and the health minister. Now all the print and electronic channels were reporting that the supply of oxygen had been stopped by the supplier due to the non-payment of bills.

I went to the wards after showing my ID, glad that the police posted for checking were treating me with great respect. Reporters ran up to me when I got out of the car, but I did not say a word to them. I could hear hundreds of cameras clicking my photos as I walked. I did my rounds, instructed the nurses to change the bedsheets, checked the ventilator tubing and changed the setting according to the ABG. The sweepers were busy cleaning all the wards.

A rehearsal was conducted and one of the visiting politicians chalked out the questions J. P. Nadda could ask the parents and how they should be answered. A few parents who had been spotted talking about the oxygen shortage were shifted to ward 6, so that they would not be able to meet the CM. The commissioner, SDM, CMO,

CMS, additional director of health, DGME and others were present, and multiple meetings took place among the HOD, DGME and SIC. Now that the principal had been suspended, who was going to bear the brunt of the blame? That was the question on all the staffers’ minds.

That day, one of the nurses arrived on duty to find only one child in each bed of the PICU. She arranged her notes and went into the first cubicle. She noted the new, tautly stretched sheets, and the child’s neatly combed hair on the clean pillow. Her own son had been running a fever, but there was no possibility of calling in with a request for leave on a day when the hospital was under scrutiny by the high and mighty.

Compared to a normal day on the campus, this was a completely different scene. The dumper truck from the Nagar Nigam had already arrived to take out all the garbage. Many hospital sweepers, ward boys and nurses were sent as reinforcements to the paediatrics ward. In the pharmacy, all the medicines were available, and instructions had been given to everyone that if the CM asked about the availability of medicines, they should say that all the medicines have always been freely available. Parents and other visitors who had been identified as a nuisance were asked to leave the premises.

It had been decided that the CM would address the media in an auditorium inside the college building, after completing his round of ward 100. I was told to remain in my cabin and to keep away from the CM, as only the HOD would show him around.