“The face was gone , totally.” He scrubbed his hands vigorously at the sink, as if trying to wash the gory memories of the operating theatre. How painfully yucky and bloody to be faced with human misery, day in and day out , creatures at their most vulnerable .
“How come ?” I could not restrain my curiosity.
He usually doesn’t encourage gossipping about his cases at home. But , this was a baby, a mere 5 year old. It had a gut-wrenching effect on him, having to intubate a gaping hole, instead of the mouth, squirting blood from everywhere. Five and a half hours of painstaking skill to sew on the teeth, the nose, the cheek-flaps, the reconstruction of lips.
“He stood in the lawn and a sheet of broken glass from the first floor window, fell on him; shearing off the face.”
“Aargh, the poor baby.”
“They brought the severed pieces on a slab of ice.”
“292 stitches.”
“Oh my God!!” I was sorry I asked.
“292 stitches.”
“Oh my God!!” I was sorry I asked.