Endings are not always bad, they are just a beginning in disguise…

It was a chilly night of Jan 17, 2015, I was as usual engaged in my daily night duty routine in the renal transplant centre. Around 10:55 hrs I got a call from Col. PP Rao, consultant GI surgery stating there is a potential donor at Jaypee Hospital Noida, and he gave me the contact number of the concerned intensivist of the hospital. I was a bit puzzled and asked him my queries, “Sir, are we supposed to go for counselling outside? Moreover it’s a corporate hospital.” To my doubts he said, “Sandhya, you should know the person in-charge of the ICU is Col. Ramesh who was one of the pioneers in setting up of Armed Forces Organ Retrieval and Transplantation Authority (AORTA). There are also other eminent persons like General Luthra and Capt. Indira. Col Ramesh is so much inclined towards the concept of organ donation. Since they don’t have a license for transplantation (under process) and a registered transplant coordinator, they want us to give a try. And it will be ensured that it will be given to the most deserving persons.”

I still had my doubts, anyway decided to call Col. Ramesh. He explained the case to me. An18-year-old boy had met with a road traffic accident. Declared brain dead at 11:00 hrs, sustained one cardiac arrest. He also intimated me the blood group and other parameters and comorbidities. He said to come by early morning.

I called up the director of AORTA Col. Pankaj Puri and explained. He said, “Go ahead.” I informed my Principal Matron General Sushila Shahi who was extremely supportive. She immediately coordinated with the administrative team for my logistics and the reliever for early morning. With mixed thoughts I got preoccupied with my work.

Early morning by 6 am, my reliever reached, I got ready hurriedly, took my copy of the Transplantation of Human Organs Act (supposed to be our Bible) and hurried to the vehicle waiting for me.

It was a pretty chilly morning; my jaw was clenching and there was a long way to go. My thoughts to do some homework on my counselling preparation got hampered by my sleep. My eyes opened when I heard the driver saying, “Madam, we reached.”I badly needed a coffee, but controlled my brain waves, asked the enquiry for the intensive care unit. My body wasn’t obeying my commands, tiredness was overpowering it, but I still headed towards the ICU.

As I entered, the beeps of ventilators and alarms of monitors brought me back to an energetic mode. Col. Ramesh was there, a gentle poised man. He warmly greeted me, offered a cup of coffee and started explaining to me the case scenario. The boy was Rishabh, an 18-year-old student of Amity University of hotel management. He met with an accident, when his carpool collided with a truck in Noida. It seems he was accompanied by two of his friends who died on the spot. The next thing which he told me completely shook me. Rishabh was the only child of a single parent and his mother was the person to be talked with.

My God!!

In such immense stage of grief would she hear me? That moment I realised it was not going to be an easy mission for me. I prepared myself, took some time of my own and some deep breaths to calm me. I headed towards the counselling room.

There I saw a graceful lady sitting with her head buried in her hands along with two gentlemen, one in his early 60s. I approached her, greeted her and introduced myself to her. I explained that I had been sent to be with them in their deepest grief.

I sat beside her, asked about her work. At first, she gave me a blank look. Then slowly started speaking that she was a deputy principal of an international Cambridge school. She appeared to be strong, or that was the feel she was giving others. I just held her hands and made eye contact with her. I just asked her – how did it all happen, and about Rishabh.

She poured out all her grief and there I waited patiently listening to her. She was a Keralite settled in Delhi. A single parent, she got separated from her husband when Rishabh was just 8 months old. She independently raised the boy with dignity and he was her happiness, the reason to live and here destiny played a brutal game.

Every day the boy would come from the metro and walk down to their house which was just 15 minutes away, but that day he and his friends took a carpool.

I just listened to her for almost 45 minutes and gave her some water to drink. Tears were rolling from my eyes too, but I controlled my emotions. I took her hand and asked her, “Rekha, what does the doctor say now?”

She said, “They told me he’s brain dead.” I asked her, “Do you really understand the concept of brain death?”

She said yes, she knew the term and that her son was no more. And the ultimate grief was with her.

I said to her, “Rekha dear, I know you are in your utmost grief and nothing or no one can share it, but can I suggest an idea for you to get some peace from this grief...It’s gifting a life. Rishabh is no more with us, but he can still be alive in someone’s life gifting five people a new ray of hope.”

I asked her whether she knew about eye donation (because the approach for eye donation would make it easier since people widely knew about it). She said yes.

I said, “Just imagine if a kid who hasn’t seen this world’s colour gets vision! We can help others with food, clothing or money to some extent, but gifting a life, only a few people get this blessing to do. Rishabh will honour us, by still living with us…when five people get a lease of life...”

I spoke with her for almost one-and-a-half hours. After I finished, she just looked into my eyes and said, “Madam, go ahead. Where should I sign?”

It was a moment of relief, joy or sadness, I really couldn’t feel it.

I just hugged her and said, “Rishabh is so blessed to get a mother like you and I thank God that he made me meet you because some persons leave their footprints which stay forever.”

We finished with the donation procedure and the transplant team went with it...

Often, I see her status depicting her inconsolable loss…I wonder whether I will be half as strong as her. But then I remember her calling me up after a month and saying, “Sandhya, thanks for being there. Today no one can share my irreparable grief, but I am able to sleep with peace of mind – that someone is with their family living happily because of a kind act of mine...”

Yes,she will always be my all-time unsung hero...

MOHAN Foundation conducted Transplant Coordinators’ Training Programmes under the aegis of National Organ & Tissue Transplant Organisation (NOTTO), Directorate General of Health Services, Ministry of Health and Family Welfare, Govt. of India in New Delhi, Chennai and Jaipur in July, August and September 2017 respectively. All the participants received completion certificates with a unique registration number from NOTTO.