Mom, is that you?
Once a week, I undergo sleep deprivation in the afternoon – voluntarily. For a person, whose afternoon siesta is sacrosanct, this is BIG! I don’t mind late nights, totally missing out on sleep at night – even awakening early, (though grudgingly) is something which I can do without much ado. But! My afternoon slumber is something I cherish – not just from an indolent, king-of-loll point-of-view but from a physical and mental aspect as well. My mind and body are refreshed from an hour’s sleep in the afternoon. Deprive me of this and I am, as my wife wearily describes – an insufferable grouch. I become irritable, short tempered, nit-picking and walk around with a persecution complex. I deny all this of course – growling through gnashing teeth “I am FINE!” every time my wife or children choose to enquire.
I kind of think it as the male equivalent of PMS.
The reason I forego my sleep once a week, is that I have an afternoon clinic on Mondays. The premature babies under followup for ROP who have been discharged from the SCBU follow up in this Clinic on Mondays. Its something which I enjoy, being with babies, seeing the progress they make each successive week - becoming stronger, bigger and ever more vociferous in their protests during examination. Most of the babies become a blur in the routine – the high volumes in the clinic, kind of necessarily overwrite memories of the routine babies. But there are some who remain etched in the mind,(like Omar) surfacing in memories when you least expect it.
There’s Baby Jojo for instance, whose Filipino mother died soon after giving birth to her. Born 8 weeks premature, she never knew her mother’s touch after birth much less realise her death. Her Egyptian father – for reasons best known to him – fled the country and she was left orphaned in the SCBU. The good nurses of the SCBU stepped in, they collectively became her mother, fussing over her, taking care, feeding, burping, cuddling, nurturing…
Usually, babies get discharged from the SCBU when they are about 8-10 weeks old, the sick ones stay longer of course but usually by about 12-14 weeks they are out from the SCBU. either discharged home or to the Pediatric department. Jojo stayed on till she was nearly 10 months old. Her milestones were achieved in the SCBU to the oohs and aahs of the staff members, turning over, sitting up, standing with support.
The days I had ROP screening in the SCBU she would either be brought in by one of the nurses or would toddle into the examination room herself, navigating around in a walker, wearing pretty clothes brought in by the doctors and nurses. Her ROP screening days were long done but I liked to see her each week just the same. The nurses fought for her affection and she was pampered, spoiled and cherished like every baby should be. There were times when I would wonder what her first word would be when she started talking. The staff were a linguistic mixed bag – Arabic, Filipino, Hindi, Malayalam, English, Tamil. I think the nurses had this secret competition going… which language her first word would be. But she left for the Philippines before that, taken in by her grandparents who had to labour long to complete the paperwork to get their daughter’s child to be with them. I hope this is a happy ending or rather a happy beginning for Jojo.
Mom ?
There was no way she could stay on in the SCBU indefinitely, however loving the nurses were, however much they wanted her to stay but at times I wonder – the SCBU was the first ‘home’ she knew, the collective beeps of the monitors were probably as soothing as a mother’s lullaby to her, the warm embrace of a thermal blanket the first embrace she felt. With her grandparents now, I hope human touch supplants these memories… a.s.a.p.
i am teary….