Part 4: The Angel Recalls

May I have the pleasure of introducing Dr James? He’s a pediatric ophthalmologist, once – and will be – a close friend to Ken and Miriam, and eventually a great help to our little blind Mike.

That night many years ago, while tossing in bed unable to sleep, he received 2 calls. First, a text message from Miriam. “Ken’s going to call you, it’s about our son. Something’s wrong with him.”

He was ready and about to step into the car when he received the second call. The nurse from the delivery ward called, stating that Dr Kenneth requested his consultation regarding an infant that was not responding to light.

Being an angel and hence being able to read his mind, I’m thus able to confidently tell you that that very night he was a pot-pourri of emotions: worry, concern, confusion, and certainly, guilt. He was praying fervently, words all tied together in one huge mumbo jumbo as his car slowly rolled down Hospital Avenue. In essence, God, forgive me for my past and my sins.

His car halted right beside Ken’s parking slot, and the same thought flashed through his mind, just like every other morning when he got out of his car to work. If only things were like before.

“How were things before?” I’m sure you are wondering. Well, before Miriam came along, they were best of friends from secondary school all the way to med school. They were competitive and edged each other in different areas: Ken was the musician, James the athlete. They complimented each other accordingly, and in studies and work, they worked well together. They even specialized in ophthalmology. Together.

By now you’d have figured out that things changed when Miriam came into the picture. She always had a soft spot for people who could charm her with music. And of course, James had an ego that simply could not be defeated.

James reached the delivery ward. Ken got up from his leaning position, a posture indicating his thinking or worried state; a state which nurses and associates in Avenue feared. He leaned when he had no answer, no solution, or no hope. “Dr Ken, you paged me?”

The conversation was as cold as ice, and though the tears were welling up in Dr Ken’s eyes, while guilt and concern swarmed every corner of Dr James’ soul, they still refused to look each other in the eyes.

An infant boy is not responding to light. No pupil dilation, no reflex or reactions to movement and light.

Both men walked quickly and gently into the nursery, hurriedly but not wanting to wake any mothers or newborns. A few nurses nodded in acknowledgment as the men passed by. They found the newborn, and Ken passed him to James.

“Strong grip,” James commented lightly as he moved his index finger into the tiny palm of the boy. “What’s his name?”

Michael. “Hello Mister Mike,” James cooed. “Sorry for waking you up… How are you feeling hmm?”

The newborn gargled his saliva and curled up in his arms. From his pocket James drew out a tiny pen torch. Lifting up the baby’s eyelids, he quickly flashed the lights near his iris. “You’re right, no responses whatsoever.”

Is it normal? Ken asked softly, as if he was scared the baby might hear them speaking.

James frowned. I doubted it, usually even at such age they would already have developed motor and pupil responses to light stimulus. As of now, we couldn’t be sure whether it was a nerve or retinal defect.

Ken slouched onto a chair in front of the examination table. So what options do I have?

Wait, James said gently, still refusing to look at him, and perhaps pray.

James knew he had to leave, his emotions could not be properly contained for long, and such a time did not permit his emotions to leak. Not even the very slightest. James rested the baby back into his plastic tray, covered him with the ward blanket, and headed to the door. “Ken?” Ken’s head tilted up to see him holding the door ajar. “I’m with you in this.”

Ken smiled weakly. “You know, I am desperate and vulnerable at this point of time, but I believe that you will not hold a patient, my son, against me. That’s why I paged you.”

James didn’t reply to that, but instead walked out, on the way gently closing the door. A tear came to the edge of his eye as he pulled out his Blackberry. “Sorry Miriam, I tried my best.”

Then came Miriam’s reply. “James, why have you given me this son?”

I watched with sadness as I recall how forgetful man can be, but at the same time,was assured that eventually things did turn out, rather unexpectedly, better between the 3 grown-ups, all because of one blind child. Let’s just say, it’s my Master’s amazing way of using consequences of wrong motives in preparing a beautiful future for all of them.