As I pen down my patient encounter
On this blank piece of paper,
I’d leave it as it is rather;
If it weren’t for his mother.
Caring for her one year old son:
Her everything, her only one,
Brushing and bathing to feeding
and changing his diapers and soothing.
Every gentle touch, a profound embrace
as he stays quiet, never complains
seems at ease, for her, a baby forever he stays.
Just as for the past 30 years,
He’s not responded,
nor uttered a word,
Though gifted eternal motherhood.
To his mom, as if of a newborn child
to not reach any milestones who’s destined;
Time froze for her.
As a mother,
Unlike another who feels it flies by,
For her, every second’s a year long ironically
Lingering in life’s stillness.
Unlike sand through fingers otherwise,
Deprived of childhood or adulthood,
Bound to his bed,
Tubes to breathe and feed,
Catheters to drain,
and suction.
As he lay in a fetal position,
With eyes half open,
We rely on his heart rate to determine
If he’s in pain.
Voices though he nothing —
But the mom’s fiercely with love advocating
For him, with valid concerns justifying
his vitals signs the reasoning.
Echoing in the silence,
Her motherhood priceless
Of a child who lay lifeless.
Yet giving meaning and purpose to her life,
Enriching it with love, compassion through strife,
Although an epitome of resilience,
I can’t help seeing her helplessness
She’s fighting is what tears me apart
As a valiant soldier, tirelessly, for a battle long ago lost.
As I pen down my patient encounter,
On this blank piece of paper,
I’d leave it as it is rather;
If it weren’t for his mother.
-Pallavi Aneja MD
NotesOfADrMom 