For two days Akash flipped through the books he had for the baffling letters-NCPF. What could they be standing for? He thought and searched the pages in his Anatomy and Physiology books, but he could not find the answer. He was going ahead of his time. It would only be in second and third year that he might find these letters and that too if these abbreviations happen to be popular in the part of the country where he was studying.
He could not contain himself for more than two days without knowing the diagnosis. Therefore, he decided to head for the premier Institute. He came out of the Bhavan to meet Dr. NK Singh, whom a friend back home had referred. NK, the PG student in AIIMS was not found to be a friendly fellow on the first instance but he decided to call on him to ask what the letters NCPF stood for and what they meant.
He went to his room in RPC Hostel. There he sat alone with the cold doctor. Akash would recall later on that the interaction was more like facing an interview board. He quizzed Akash what percentage he got in Matriculation and in Class XII examinations. Akash then told his story.
Akash had studied in one of the best schools in Manipur and had secured a respectable state rank in Matriculation. Matriculation in Manipur was the biggest exam. Everybody seemed to know a ranker and would not just bother for other higher exams.
That way Akash had been enjoying the status and was having a normal healthy life until his mother started having the problems. It was, of course, no use talking again about many other things in life. His grand father had expired just before his Matriculation and his grandmother was still bedridden at home. As the doctor listened, he became friendlier with him.
Akash then opened up, "Tamo, my mother was diagnosed having PHT with NCPF: Child's A grade. What does the whole thing meant." He took out the OPD card and gave it to Dr. NK Singh. The doctor then studied the card and replied, "I have to look up. Its portal hypertension.
However, the NCPF …I have to look up in the Surgery books. Wait…let me see." The doctor then reached out for some books in his shelf in that small room. Interestingly he had many books. This was something Akash liked. He himself was an ardent collector of books. Dr.NK browsed through the books and after sometime he said, "Ah, here it is….NCPF stands for Non Cirrhotic Portal Fibrosis….this condition is common in South East Asia…in India and Pakistan.
So, boy your mother is having fibrosis…you know something like scarring in the Liver but not due to the typical post hepatitis or alcoholic cirrhosis…and finally leading to Portal hypertension." Akash could now understand what the doctor was saying. He could decipher the language Dr.NK was speaking. It was beyond his time.
But when someone's dear one was in question of life and death, what did time have to do. Either time stands still or you race through years well ahead. However, time interestingly was at its pace. Only Akash's heart was restless. The urge to get her mother treated fast and rush back to catch up two months of missed intensive Medical classes.
Akash thanked the doctor and was about to leave and Dr. NK said, "Akash, let me know the developments. Keep dropping in." The cold doctor had suddenly become very warm. Akash then thought that he must be one of those who takes long time to get cosy with anybody but once he was confident becomes very nice and close again.
Akash had a different exposure in his life. With no one to look up to at home Akash had found a life by looking around. He depended on his friends and their famililies for emotional support. At times, he would wonder why there was a wall around each family and why would not the families just open up? He, on the other hand had become very open and would rush to help anybody like him who needed his help.
But was he helping somebody or was he getting help out of his own actions Akash never knew. At times, he would frequent a house so often that he became a short a nuisance to the family. But poor Akash what would he do? He did not have a life filled with love and laughter. He could only long for the pat on the shoulder by his father when he achieved something in life.
Akash therefore buried himself in the books-it was a different world, a quiet one with no one to tell you that you are there for too long or you are frequenting more often than desired. He just strived to achieve more and more in schools.
When he reached the Manipur Bhavan, his uncle told him that they were shifting to a rented room in Yusuf Sarai, a colony near AIIMS the next day. That way they could cook their own foods and save. They had to wait for another one more week to get his mother admitted.
Akash was glad that they were heading for his mother's treatment. But what about the Medical college classes. He could well imagine how layers after layers his friends would be dissecting the head and neck region of the human cadaver in the Anatomy classes. He could imagine the protein metabolism being taught in Dr PD fantastic English in the Biochemistry department and the Central Nervous System in the adjoining Physiology Department.
"Will I be able to make up …will I be able to pace up on the race towards becoming a doctor…a doctor like Dr. Nandy?"
To be continued....
This is a series of article on different aspects of being a doctor as narrated by Dr. Swasti.
Dr. Leimapokpam Swasti Charan writes regularly to e-pao.net
You can contact him at [email protected]
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