Corona Diaries - 15

I wonder what to write about today. I have nothing specific in mind. It was easier when I was in the hospital, writing everything that was going on with me every single day. Home quarantine does get boring, especially for someone who is used to working and being active. I don’t think I will ever get used to having a sedentary lifestyle. Home quarantine however, is a million times better than hospital stay. I just can’t wait to get back to work. I want to see my friends again. I miss my friends. I have so many friends I could write about but I will choose to write about some patients I’ve had over the years. Many have interesting stories. I will focus on the ones that I could never get out of my thoughts over the past few years.

I’ll write about Michael today.

I can remember his name but let’s call him Michael for confidentiality reasons. I met Michael during my Respiratory/Infectious Rotation when I was a trainee back in Aberdeen. This would have been mid September 2010 when I was fresh out of medical school. Michael had been an inpatient for a couple of weeks. I got called during the oncall to try to fix an IV cannula as he had difficult veins and kept losing his lines. When I entered I saw the saddest man I had ever seen. He didn’t just look depressed; he looked like there was no light left in his eyes. He had long hair and an unkempt beard and looked like he had lost so much weight during a short period. I will never forget the look on his face and his staring gaze. He looked like he was waiting for something. His eyes were very dark and I got goosebumps just looking at him.

“Hello, my name is Dr Al-Matrouk. I’m here to refix your IV cannula.”

He just put his arm in my direction. He didn’t speak a single word and there was no eye contact. I tried to make conversation but he didn’t answer, the British always loved to speak about the weather, it was the easiest subject to start a conversation.

“It’s a wee bit wet today isn’t it?”

He just nodded. He had multiple bruises all over his arms from previous cannula sites and blood tests. I managed to get a good vein quickly and was attaching it in place. I noticed that he seemed to be athletic. He was in his mid 40’s and he seemed to have lost so much muscle mass, he looked so much older than his years.

I said goodbye and left to do my jobs. I had a list with so many jobs that had to be done around all the wards as we used to cover half of the hospital during oncalls. I must have come back a couple of hours later to the same ward to check on another patient and then I sat with the nurses to chat. I asked them about Michael.

“Why does he look so sad?”

They told me his story.

A story I haven’t been able to get out of my mind ever since. Michael was a lawyer and had been married to his wife for 20 years and had two children in their teens. He loved sailing and had gotten his own sailing boat recently. He decided to take his wife on a sailing trip for their twentieth anniversary. They both took a month off work and started their trip, visiting Italy and France but mostly enjoying the sea.

Two weeks into their trip when they were in the middle of the sea and at least a few days from any shore, his wife started getting sick. She was tired and had no energy. They both thought it was related to seafood that they had the night before. So she just stayed in bed. The next day, she wasn’t getting any better and started becoming pale and yellow in colour. She also started getting a fever and becoming dizzy. She would have episodes where she would be lucid but those would only last a few minutes. Michael had to take care of her as best as he could but he also had to try to get them to the closest shore. He couldn’t get in touch with anyone because they were still too far out in the middle of the sea.

She wasn’t able to eat and no matter what he gave her, she would bring it right back up. Then she started vomiting blood and started getting nosebleeds. Michael didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what was wrong with her. By the third day she had completely lost consciousness and started getting fits. All he could do was turn her on her side and pray for them to stop. She still had continuous fever and there was no way to get her to swallow paracetamol to bring her fever down. He tried to wake her up but it was useless. He couldn’t stop her nosebleeds either. Despite all this he tried to get to shore as soon as he could.

On the fourth day, Michael woke up with his wife dead in his arms. He was distraught. He had failed his wife; there was nothing left to do. He couldn’t reach shore in time to get her the medical treatment that she needed. He continued his trip with his dead wife on his boat. Can you imagine what he was going through? Can you even begin to think about his thought process?

During that day, Michael himself felt exhausted and developed a fever. He was close to shore and tried to contact the coast guards. He didn’t receive a response before collapsing himself on his boat. The coast guard found them later that day, a middle aged lady dead from complications of malaria and her husband wrapped around her suffering of the same illness, just barely alive.

Imagine what he must have felt, sailing his boat with his dead wife as a passenger. He was celebrating her twentieth wedding anniversary, which instead became her funeral. He had lost his wife, his health and the last spark in his eye. Whenever I’m faced with any troubles in life I always remember Michael. No matter what we go through, someone else always has it harder. No matter what your hardships, no matter how rough your situation is, you’re always better off than someone else.

I’ll leave with another one of my favorites.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

- Mary Elizabeth Frye