I punched the clock on a solemn Thursday night and stepped outside the Radiology Department. Beholding the sight of the Emergency room awash in the moonlight, I stood entranced. Bright and plump, the gorgeous moon resembled a massive pearl hanging in the sky through the glass doors.
Steering towards the exit stairway was like experiencing a collision of galaxies where patients and their worried family members marched to a different drummer.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, a young boy, projecting an aura of calm caught my eye. It was evident from the violent tapping of his feet, that deep down, he was frazzled and frayed. I noticed he was reading "Now: The Physics Of Time" sitting alone in the alley, away from the crowd. I decided to give him company till his attendant showed up.
Taking off my white coat and placing it on my lap, I settled down. He stood stiff and silent, yet his impatient eyes kept wandering towards mine.
"It's nice to sit with someone who doesn't have their face buried in a phone." I broke the ice and gave him a subtle smile.
He reciprocated with a shy smile and introduced himself as "Dhruv Sangha".
"Dr. Kaveri Kashyap", I held my hand out for a handshake.
We realized we had burned through forty-five minutes with unreserved talking about space, planets, books, movies, his parent's divorce, and even his crush when his name was being announced at the hospital's reception. We reached in a flash only to find his dad pacing there in anticipation. His dad had gone out for a smoke and forgotten where he had last seen his son.
I asked for Dhruv's file and insisted on my reliever for that night, Dr. Ish Rode to let me assist Dhruv's C.T. Scan. Dhruv, a fifteen-year-old bright boy, was a case of pancreatic cancer. It's a rare disease to happen in a teenager, but who are we to question the odds?
I could see Dhruv's elevating discomfort as Dr. Ish administered the contrast dye through his Intravenous cannula.
Keeping into account our common interests of space enthusiasm, I mimicked the astronauts on the radio giving insights on Apollo missions.
"Earthling Dhruv is the Radio astronomer to discover Little Green Men."
Dr. Ish burst into laughter because he had never seen my quirks to this extent.
Dhruv took the cue and joked,
"I guess I have to die...only to become a star, so that, just like the Binary star system, I could have a girlfriend to revolve around in pairs." Using humor to cut through the chaos, was the perfect solution for better imaging.
As Dhruv slid into the C.T. Machine, the noises it made, heightened his anguish.
With an air of nonchalance, I asked him to imagine boarding the 'Cassini' which is considered the Rolls Royce of Spacecrafts and consider the noises of the C.T. The machine as a string of regularly spaced pulses with incredible accuracy.
"Ahoy Captain, shall we embark on a Sonic trip through the solar system?", I heard him giggle.
"Gliding over the stellar landscape,
Sonified sounds will be guiding you when you can't see deep space." I continued with my script encasing Cosmic jargon.
"Now you're going at 40000 miles per hour ride around the Saturn rings made of ice giving rise to a hail storm like sound...Do not confuse it with Alien signals from stars in the interstellar space...I repeat, do not confuse it."
"Gliding into our vast galaxy, the milky way.
I'm lost in the glare of the neighboring stars, "beamed Dhruv.
"We're done clicking photographs of your pancreas! Next turn we're taking you to Enceladus, the Saturn's moon on a vacation, probably skinny dipping in geyser springs too!" I declared with a wink.
He flexed and wiggled his eyebrows, and a smile ready to light his face, one to match the cheeky gleam in his eyes. I shrugged and smiled broadly in return.
We discussed the proceedings of the case with Dhruv's father. "It seems, things are all coming together from his chemotherapy to his diet. It looks like he's going to hit a home run, perhaps even a grand slam soon!" Dr. Ish roared.
When the day dawned, it was deceptively calm. It had almost been five weeks since I had last seen Dhruv. I was eager for his appointment that evening. More like excited to share with him the loopholes of drowning in space or enlightening him that sounds of the space could be used for treating depression.
I was startled when I received a call from the Pediatric nursing station. Dhruv's dad was on the line, he told me his condition had worsened due to metastasis then his voice broke.
I don't remember how the day went by as a perk of being buried in work. In the evening, out of nowhere, Ish stormed into the Angiography room which wasn't operational that day.
"Why'd you bury yourself in music and books?" Ish asked, catching his breath after he swiftly snatched my phone. The impact of his kung fu skills plugged the earphones out releasing the vacuum I had created to keep myself from dealing with the world just a little longer.
"As a matter of fact to stop thinking," painstakingly teleported back to reality, I answered plainly.
Ish tried to console me, "Everything can't be completely equitable all the time, and we need to accept that.
When a patient dies, our routine is disrupted. We know there is always a storm brewing. While these troubles are far offshore, that they won't cloud our sunny life instantaneously, but its ripple effects do stir things up for people we care about." He paused to make sure his words didn't rile me up any further.
"Dhruv reminded me that we are worthy of connections that are nourishing, kind, and authentic." I pasted a smile on my lips to overcome the sickening realization of a profound loss piercing my heart.
Ish gently hauled me out of the hospital by tugging at my sleeve. He said he didn't need a telescope in capital letters to tell him that I needed a drink. I chuckled as I sat in his car and connected my iPhone to his music system. "Yellow lights" by Harry Hudson played somberly, easing us a bit after a draining day. Surprisingly! We both started singing as if it was a pre-planned karaoke night.
"Making a playlist is a delicate art!" I quoted. A smile played on his lips.
When we reached our local, Ish ordered the bartender, "Tequila stat!" mimicking Freddie Highmore in The Good doctor series. I couldn't suppress my chortle.
"You're not the only genius here," he smirked. I smiled at his enthusiasm to cheer me up. The cherry on top was Frank Sinatra's, "Fly me to the moon" booming up in the bar at that very moment.
On reaching our table, I transcended back to the last time I saw Dhruv.
Dhruv couldn't make it. He didn't get the opportunity to see humans stepping on Mars or become a Radio Astronomer to discover other civilizations in space.
With a sorrowful sigh, I pondered if he had turned into a star. Only then I could heartbreakingly explore the possibility of that beguilingly intelligent boy unraveling the mystery of our ever-expanding universe from his abode in heavens.
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