A Desperate Link

When I was working in Client Services in a hospital in Singapore many years ago, the first thing I would do each morning when I arrived at my office would be to visit the Intensive Care Unit. A walk round the unit is a very humbling experience, at least for me, to see the patients, young and old, in critical condition, with numerous tubes attached to them, some conscious but weak; some sedated and some hooked on to respirators to help them breathe, all of them clinging on to dear life. I can't help but be moved by compassion for them; it brings me down to earth, to appreciate what I have and to be grateful that I can walk and do my day's work, no matter how demanding. Yes, I was the observer here, but in the uncertainty of things as we know, I could be on the other end, the observed. It can happen to anyone...

Here in the Intensive Care Unit or ICU in short, is the place where patients and their families are most vulnerable, and here was where my staff and I found the most job satisfaction - to be with them, helping them to serve as a conduit to the doctors, sometimes arranging the religious to visit and joining the families in prayers. In short, providing the much needed emotional support during their times of need.   

Once my colleague, Masai was looking after a young Japanese couple, Hayato and his wife, Mieko. They were on honeymoon in Bali when the van that took them on an excursion met with an accident and Hayato was thrown out of the vehicle. The impact caused a serious head injury that sent him into a coma. Mieko on the other hand suffered only minor cuts. Hayato was taken to a local hospital where medical care was limited; and on the second day, he was evacuated by air ambulance to Singapore, where Masai was called to help to translate for the doctors trusted to his care.

Hayato remained in coma for 5 days. During that time, Mieko did not leave his bed side. On each of our visit, we could see her tenderly caressing his arms, touching his face, whispering into his ears, kissing his hands, sometimes tearful; at other times, a strong resolve could be seen on her face, as though she was certain that this would be a short ordeal and that soon she and Hayato would be able to return to Japan to start their new life as a married couple. 

Masai visited her daily in the ICU to reassure her and soon a bond developed between the two of them. Masai would buy food for Meiko to ensure that she got her daily sustenance; they would pray together at the bedside of Hayato or sometimes she would be just sitting silently by her side, holding her hand.   

I will always remember the morning Masai called me on the phone, telling me that Hayato had passed on. I rushed up to the ICU and found Meiko huddled on the floor outside her husband's room crying, and Masai holding her arm by her side. After the doctor had certified the death, we went into the room with Meiko to see her husband. He looked peaceful; but Meiko was inconsolable, crying and calling out his name. We were crying with her as we tried our best to console her. After sometime, the nurses came in to explain that they had to do the usual preparations; the tubes were disconnected, drainage bottles removed, intravenous fluids taken down.  

It was at this moment, in her deepest grief and seeing the lifeless body of her husband on the bed that Meiko made that decision - she wanted Hayato's sperms preserved; she wanted to have Hayato's child! She wanted something of Hayato to hang on to, to keep this desperate living link with him. At this request, we had to start the process fast as time was crucial to ensure that Hayato's sperms were still viable. A Urologist, Dr Tan and a Gynecologist, Dr Wong who specializes in IVF procedures were called in. Together they managed to extract the sperms which were then kept frozen in Liquid Nitrogen in the hospital's sperm bank. As everything was explained to her and the necessary documents signed, Meiko felt safe in the comfort that a part of Hayato would still be with her. She knew that when she was ready, she could come back for the procedure; but if by x number of years she did not come to claim it, the sperms would be destroyed. 

Hayato's parents came from Japan the next day; it was sad to see the old couple mourning for their son, the father kept his eyes closed as doctors explained the condition to them. It was as though by closing his eyes, it provided a shield, that what he was listening to was a narration of another person, not his son's. The following day, with the help of a funeral director, Hayato's body was flown back to Japan with his family. 

We never heard from Meiko since, but I can imagine the sorrows she went through as a young widow, having to pick up the pieces of her life again. Time heals I'm sure, and she would have had the support of her family and friends to help her. 

When I met Dr Wong many years later, he told me that Meiko never came back for the sperms, hence they were destroyed. For Meiko, a chapter of her life has closed; she has moved on. Our prayers are with her as we wish her all the happiness she deserves in life.    

                                   Can I see another's woe
                                   And not be in sorrow too?
                                   Can I see another's grief
                                   And not seek for kind relief?

                                                      -William Blake-        


P/s: The names mentioned here are fictitious, to protect the privacy of the people involved.