This was the experience narrated by a visiting surgeon, not unlike some we also see.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I was waiting near the north window for the first operated patient to be wheeled out of the OT before the second one could be go in. We have this huge window on the north side of the OT, which spans almost all of the wall. The view outside is breathtaking, with a couple of huge trees, a lawn below, the tennis court in the background, and no sounds to mar the view. I must admit the 'no sound' business did not apply that day. A child was crying incessantly outside, and I could hear it. I looked down at the lawn. The child was standing alone, back towards me. His mother was squatting down, looking at the child. She had nothing with her, not even a bottle of water. She tentatively extended a hand towards the child. The child backed away a couple of steps and continued to cry, standing stiff. She waited for a minute or so, and extended her hand again. The child moved back by another two steps and stood crying. After another minute she got up with seemingly great effort and took a step towards the child. The child moved back as before, and cried and cried. Finally she extended her hands offering to pick up the child. The child ran towards her. She picked the child up and put its head on her left shoulder. The child clung to her, not crying any more. She wiped her right eye and cheek with her right hand. She must have been crying. The child became alert and picked up his head from her shoulder. She immediately put it back on her shoulder. She probably did not want the child to see her crying. Then she wiped away tears from her left eye and left cheek. With the wet hand, she wiped the child's eyes too. There was no handkerchief, but the child did not seem to mind They stood there, just holding each other. After a minute, an elderly man stepped forward. He did not look much better off than those two. He offered a small fruit to the child. She noticed this, and turned around, possibly to make the child see what was being offered to him, and possibly to hide her tears from that kind man. The child saw the fruit, took it, and held it in his tiny hand in wonder. The kind man went away. The mother and child moved to a spot I could not see from that window. There were a couple of small shrieks after that, but no more crying. I could not change and go down to see if I could help in any way, because the next patient was already being given anesthesia. By the time I finished for the day, there was no one on the lawn. When I reached the hospital the next morning, I could not see the child and his mother anywhere on or near the lawn.
I don't know why they were in the hospital. I don't know where the father of the child was, or if there was a father any more. I don't why the child was crying, nor do I know why the mother was crying. I don't know where they are at this moment, and what is to happen of that child in future. All I know is that there is a lump in my throat every time I think of the crying child and mother, and the lump does not go away. I don't even want to think of the thousands of such children and their mothers who cry every day, because there is nothing that I can do to stop them from crying.
_________________________________________________________________________________
I was waiting near the north window for the first operated patient to be wheeled out of the OT before the second one could be go in. We have this huge window on the north side of the OT, which spans almost all of the wall. The view outside is breathtaking, with a couple of huge trees, a lawn below, the tennis court in the background, and no sounds to mar the view. I must admit the 'no sound' business did not apply that day. A child was crying incessantly outside, and I could hear it. I looked down at the lawn. The child was standing alone, back towards me. His mother was squatting down, looking at the child. She had nothing with her, not even a bottle of water. She tentatively extended a hand towards the child. The child backed away a couple of steps and continued to cry, standing stiff. She waited for a minute or so, and extended her hand again. The child moved back by another two steps and stood crying. After another minute she got up with seemingly great effort and took a step towards the child. The child moved back as before, and cried and cried. Finally she extended her hands offering to pick up the child. The child ran towards her. She picked the child up and put its head on her left shoulder. The child clung to her, not crying any more. She wiped her right eye and cheek with her right hand. She must have been crying. The child became alert and picked up his head from her shoulder. She immediately put it back on her shoulder. She probably did not want the child to see her crying. Then she wiped away tears from her left eye and left cheek. With the wet hand, she wiped the child's eyes too. There was no handkerchief, but the child did not seem to mind They stood there, just holding each other. After a minute, an elderly man stepped forward. He did not look much better off than those two. He offered a small fruit to the child. She noticed this, and turned around, possibly to make the child see what was being offered to him, and possibly to hide her tears from that kind man. The child saw the fruit, took it, and held it in his tiny hand in wonder. The kind man went away. The mother and child moved to a spot I could not see from that window. There were a couple of small shrieks after that, but no more crying. I could not change and go down to see if I could help in any way, because the next patient was already being given anesthesia. By the time I finished for the day, there was no one on the lawn. When I reached the hospital the next morning, I could not see the child and his mother anywhere on or near the lawn.
I don't know why they were in the hospital. I don't know where the father of the child was, or if there was a father any more. I don't why the child was crying, nor do I know why the mother was crying. I don't know where they are at this moment, and what is to happen of that child in future. All I know is that there is a lump in my throat every time I think of the crying child and mother, and the lump does not go away. I don't even want to think of the thousands of such children and their mothers who cry every day, because there is nothing that I can do to stop them from crying.
