The phone rudely disturbed my peaceful sleep. A call from ward? Another hand needed in casualty? Or more bad news from home? Or is that just my alarm?! I stubbornly held my eyes closed until my hand reached the phone.An unknown number. Even my true caller app could not identify the owner of that number. I hesitated a second before I answered.
“Doctor,do you remember me?! Can you guess who this is?!” It was a female voice..I could not place that voice anywhere. I was honestly clueless! And I guess she figured out my helpless situation and went on to introduce herself. She was the wife of one of the patients admitted in our surgery ward during my student days. We had this habit of giving breakfast to poor patients in the ward. It was something a batch mate of mine started. And since many of us saw the importance and the beauty of such a simple yet significant action, we followed suit. There was not much I could recollect about this lady or her husband. He was around 60; was admitted with cholecystitis; the wife was really friendly and we would talk every time I went to give food. She had told me of her unacceptably high sugar values. With my little knowledge, I had advised her to go see a doctor and start medications. But she answered with a smile that she did not have the money. And then before discharge from the hospital she had taken my number. She would call once in a while. But over time, the calls stopped. And yes, I admit; I forgot them.
The best part of our profession is that we get to meet so many people. We meet them at the low points of their lives and somehow we become part of their story. And as the number of people we meet increase and time passes, old acquaintances become part of pages of the memory blog. Running into one of them again or a call like the one I received..it’s a reminder that maybe you helped someone enough for them to remember you. Isn’t that the best laurel that you can bag?! Praise God for that!