Category: Incident Happened with Self

It was an emergency – at least, for the patient who was vomiting and passing watery stool continuously. He was delivered soon to the nearest hospital near midnight by his relative. But there was no doctor to attend – only ‘sister’ who put the patient on an all steel stretcher, and started a saline drip. The patient half conscious was only biding his time.
A full half hour later, the ‘sister’ called the ‘doctor’. And of course at half hour past midnight, the ‘doctor’ was sleeping at home. Another half hour later, another call. The ‘doctor’ said she was coming. An hour later from that call when she came, she ‘saw’ the patient, took his pulse, put the stethoscope on his chest and went. No diagnosis was given.
The patient was not yet ‘admitted’. He lay on the stretcher outside all rooms – in a corner.
At 6am in the morning, the ‘doctor’ came and after all the most powerful people that knew the patient came, that he was finally ‘admitted’ to the ICU at 8am.
It had taken a good 8hrs to cover the distance from the stretcher outside all rooms to the ICU a few feet away on the same floor. All the tests were ordered. By evening, the patients kidneys were showing signs of failure. At 9pm, the ‘doctor’ said that the ‘hospital’ did not have facilities to treat kidney failure patients. So the patient must be shifted to a hospital where they had the facilities.
At 10pm after all the bills were cleared by the relative, the patient wearing adult diapers was shifted on a metal stretcher in an ambulance with metal seats to the emergency room of another ‘hospital’.
This time it was a ‘big hospital’. At least, somebody said that it was a ‘big hospital’ obliquely meaning that the ‘big hospital’ had all the facilities.
At 10.50pm the now conscious but in-pain patient was admitted to the emergency of the ‘big hospital’. Again, no doctor on arrival for a patient who arrived in an ambulance. The receptionist called the duty doctor who took another 30mins to reach the emergency room.
‘Doctor does not talk to anybody’, was the short gyan given. And “no one can enter emergency other than the patient”. After a while they said: “one relative can be with the patient”.
The patient of course could only display patience since there was no other option. He was on a drip again and also a catheter bag to take care of measuring his urine output. His kidneys were failing but had not failed yet. When the attending relative showed the attending ‘sister’ that the patient’s diapers needed a change – pat came the answer – “why do not you do it yourself?”
By 6am the urine output had recovered a bit but still not completely. The patient was feeling better though still in danger. By 8am he was shifted from emergency to the ICU.
Another bed, another room, another drip, but no doctor again in the ICU. And in the ICU even the relatives are not allowed. We always used to beg the attending ‘sister’ for a ‘glimpse’ of the patient. The protocols were established of ‘meeting time’, ‘leaving time’ and the time when the ‘doctor has come’ would be announced. We always would sit in front of the ICU door – but we could not see the doctor come and go. Perhaps there was another door. This was a ‘big hospital’.
Of course, this was a “big hospital’ – it had multiple stories, so many rooms, so many sections, the floor was all costly granite, the gardens were manicured, the canteen was big, there were so many patients and their so many attending relatives, and there was no ‘bigger’ hospital in the vicinity.
This was also a ‘good’ hospital because it had all the facilities.
It could do blood tests, urine tests, ultrasound, X-ray, MRI, NMR and all the sub tests like cholesterol test, sugar test, Vitamin-D test, HIV test and what not. Every test for any part of the body could be done here. In the ICU because of hygiene concerns you would not be allowed to enter. Perhaps that was the reason why even the doctors were missing from the ICU!
“The patient’s kidneys are recovering, but he is a heart patient, so we have to be careful” was being fed to my ears for two days. On the third, an ultrasound was done on the patient where the patient asked the sister jovially “is there any blood?”. The sister smiled and gave no answer because she did not understand the question.
The morning of the fourth day the patient was said to be ‘out of danger’ by the mysterious and now famous Dr. Who, and shifted to a room where he ate idlis for breakfast and had a reasonable lunch. This was a good hospital.
At 6pm after drinking some water, the patient complained of ‘breathlessness’ to the sister. After a while, the sister told the ‘doctor’. The doctor shifted the patient again to the ICU bed number 315. Another drip, another bed, another room and yet no doctor.
Sensing danger Dr. Who, anaesthetised the patient and put him on a ventilator – artificial breathing that is, since the patient was feeling breathless. Dr. Who was not a heart specialist though and the trouble was with the heart, perhaps! That was what everybody thought.
With no attending doctor, the patient would start removing the ventilator from his mouth since he would feel so miserable when he would regain even a little consciousness. This would go unnoticed and the ‘sister’ would be called by the one relative who was close by. The sister would then catch the patient, re-insert the ventilalor, the duty doctor would come, re-anaesthetize the patient and then leave the patient unattended again. This happened 3 times over a period of 2 hours and on the 4th when the patient could not take it anymore, his heart started sinking.
Dr. Who was not perhaps in the list of doctors who came because he was a ‘big doctor’ after all.
The emergency was now for the doctors who came in one by one and helped in reviving the patient by giving “shocks” to the heart and injecting heart rejuvenating drugs directly into the heart. The patient almost fought the doctors in trying to remove his ventilator so that he feels comfortable but alas, there were too many hands holding him down. One pair of hands tied his hands to the steel
bed, and another pair tied his legs to the same. Weak and tied, the heart of the patient sunk without recourse.
The doctors left when the patient stopped struggling.
The relative was given time to cry before the body was wrapped in a white bedsheet.
The floor was clean, shining granite. All medical personnel were wearing white clothes. The building was big. Food was available in the canteen 24×7 and you could order idlis, dosas and even sweets. There was enough car parking space for all the visitors, even a nice green garden to greet.
The relative still waited for the doctor.
The receptionist gave the discharge certificate so that the Death Certificate could be got from the local
municipal office. The metal seat ambulance waited outside to carry the body home. All facilities were provided. It was a ‘big hospital’. It was also a ‘good’ hospital.
Bed No. 315 was still empty – perhaps!
It was not murder – of course!
Submitted by: देवसुत
Submitted on: Sun May 17 2015 21:20:42 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Biography-A real life incident happened with self
Language: English
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[category Biography-A real life incident happened with self,English,Story]

My dear Daughter,

I forgot taking with me
My Resource Diabetic tin
I forgot asking Satya
Whether I had to pay
Both way taxi fares
I forgot asking the
Taxi driver to give
The taxi fare bill
Even after he had signed it!
I don’ think the taxi driver
Forgot to hand over the bill!
I some how forgot
That particular day
To ask the name of the driver,
Which I normally do otherwise!

Hence, do not forget
To get the cash bill
From the Taxi Agency,
Which had already charged
From Satya its share
Of the payment due!

Second, do not forget
To take the ‘Resource
Diabetic’ tin to your brothers’
Home, whenever you go,
Or do not forget on your part
To hand it over to him,
Along with the taxi bill,
Whenever he comes
To your sweet home!

Lastly, do not ever forget
To plant a kiss on your daughters’
Plumpy lumpy cheeks
With my name chanted
In her ears sweetly as ever!
And, of course, do not ever
Forget to remind to your heart,
As also to your sweet heart’s,
That I love you all so much
That mere words fail to convey!

Submitted on: Thu Aug 25 2011 07:41:26 GMT-0700 (PDT)
Category: Original
Language: English
Copyright: A Billion Stories (
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This is my story…
When I got married (almost 8 years back) and built a new house (almost 6 years back), we lived in peace for a year. I will come to what destroyed our peace later. But first a piece of fact.

My wife was a zoologist and by practice used to catch insects like the grasshopper or the beetle by hand without damaging the insects body. She was good at it since she had to do this to collect samples for her zoology projects in college.

However, she was afraid of reptiles and especially the wall-lizard.

Well, I did not care much of the wall-lizard. I did not mind it – till it fell over me. But my wife would ensure that all lizards would be out of the house. Every time she used to find one, she used to take a broom and do the needful of putting the lizard out of the house. Sometimes, I would be forced to do the needful. You know, anything for a wife!!

So, now coming back to the second year after our house was built, we lost our peace. There would be a 100 cockroaches in the kitchen, in the bedroom and all over the house. And we spent 2 cans of big HIT (Insecticide) every month killing these. For 4 years this continued. HIT would come with our monthly supplies like dal and atta. At about 400/- per month for 4 years means approximately 18,000/- – spent just on insecticide (poison!).

But 2 years back peace returned.

When my wife had gone to her native place, I did not do anything to the lizards. A couple found permanent residence in my house. On my wife’s return, when she detected these – she tried and failed to put them out of the house. Well.. long story short, the lizards stayed.

And then we realized we are not buying that much HIT anymore. My wife developed a soft corner for the lizards after she saw them eating cockroaches!

Well, today we are happy. We do not buy HIT anymore. And yes, we have a dozen lizards at home who mind their own business and we are happy with that. In fact, we are really happy with that.

Submitted on: Tue Jul 05 2011 05:12:47 GMT-0700 (PDT)

Category: Original
Language: English
Copyright: A Billion Stories (

Nagaraj is blind. He has also not taken bath for a long time – it seems.

Dirty and disposed, he sits near a government factory with a aluminium bowl, but his arms are not outstretched asking for alms. Even so, there are a few coins in the bowl – donations from kindly souls. The value of the coins dropped into the bowl, Nagaraj cannot know, because he has no fingers.

He sits at one place the whole day, never moving from one place. He cannot move because he has no legs – rather legs stricken by polio.

But strangely, Nagaraj disappears by night.

Nagaraj is taken to his sisters’ home by his brother-in-law where they take the money collected by Nagaraj and leave him again near the government factory the next day.

I asked Nagaraj whether he dislikes his brother-in-law and sister because they take his money. I was surprised to hear a confident "No". He said – "What will I do with the money? – They give me food and a bath every week."

Submitted on: Wed Jun 15 2011 06:49:02 GMT-0700 (PDT)

Category: Original
Language: English
Copyright: A Billion Stories (

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