Factor Eight - Poem by suchitha joseph
Hemophilia- defective blood clotting,
Factor eight deficiency,
That’s what the text book taught me….
Me – in my early med school days!
And one bright morning, he came,
On a wheelchair, pushed by his dad,
Into our small injection room,
With a vial of factor eight,
And was drenched in gloom,
A little fellow, may be ten
Or twelve I thought…
His body weak,
Eyes without dreams …
Away from everyone and everything…
Waiting for his shot,
of factor eight…
The nurse had it loaded,
And got ready to push it,
Into his tiny veins,
And his father told,
“He is positive…
please wear double gloves…. **.”
while trying to wear a smile,
but eyes reflecting the pain inside…
Something froze around us,
Silence filled every corner of the room,
“Are you scared? ”
The nurse asked the little guy.
Trying to be friendly…
“No, not any more…
I’ve been having them
since the time I can remember..! ”
His lips trembled, huge tear drops
rolled down his tiny face..
Tears of pain, of anger, of agony
I knelt beside him whispering,
“Relax please, see.. big boys don’t cry”
Tears stopped themselves after a while,
A gift, God gives, along with sufferings..
He looked at me..
Told me his age, that he was seventeen!
And how he had to change schools,
And that he wanted to be a doctor someday….
Then he went away….
I stood there, feeling helpless..
I wanted to see a smile on him,
And his eyes full of hope and dreams...
“We can’t always cure, but can always heal”
says the wise amongst us…..
He was leaving the small room,
Factor eight in his veins,
But no smile on his face…
Did you get healed, love?
I think I failed….
**note- I met this boy with Hemophilia, a hereditary clotting disorder, he got HIV infection from his regular factor eight injections, as it is derived from blood...
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