DAWOOD:A terrible assault on young man leads to his father’s return

His blood pressure was recorded as 90/60, abysmally low and his pulse was 110, fast and feeble. ILLUSTRATION| JOHN NYAGAH

What you need to know:

  • As she had mentioned to me on the phone, there was no history on the patient’s file, or his name, age and address.
  • His blood pressure was recorded as 90/60, abysmally low and his pulse was 110, fast and feeble. As I was reading her findings, she gave me further information about him.
  • “He is a tough young man, because after sustaining all those wounds and losing all that blood, he drove all the way here and almost crashed outside our Casualty Department.
  • He collapsed after bringing his car to a screeching halt. The poor askari was terrified and called us outside.”

“I have a young man here, who is in no condition to give me his medical history.” The panic in Dr Tabitha Chege’s voice was vibrating hard in my ears because she was our senior Casualty Officer and dealt mainly with serious emergencies. I was not sure what time it was and put my bedside light on and looked at my watch, which as usual I had placed under my pillow.

I noticed that it was 2.20am as I heard her continue: “He has multiple lacerations on his scalp, hands, forearms and shoulders, all bleeding badly. As a result, he has gone into severe surgical shock. He needs to be taken to the theatre immediately to close his wounds and stop the bleeding.”

Tabitha left me in no doubt that I was required in the hospital immediately. So I rushed to the hospital keeping within the speed limit.

When I saw the patient in the Accident & Emergency department, I realised that Tabitha’s telephonic description was accurate and was pleased to see she had started the necessary resuscitative measures on him. There was blood flowing in one arm and in the other arm, she had set up a saline drip.

LOW BLOOD PRESSURE

As she had mentioned to me on the phone, there was no history on the patient’s file, or his name, age and address. His blood pressure was recorded as 90/60, abysmally low and his pulse was 110, fast and feeble. As I was reading her findings, she gave me further information about him.

“He is a tough young man, because after sustaining all those wounds and losing all that blood, he drove all the way here and almost crashed outside our Casualty Department. He collapsed after bringing his car to a screeching halt. The poor askari was terrified and called us outside.”

All the wounds were properly documented though by Dr Chege. According to her, all the lacerations on the scalp were bone deep. After quickly assessing the general condition of the young man, I said to her. “You transfuse the blood as fast as you can. I can see blood oozing out of all the pressure dressings you have applied on the wounds.

“I will go to the theatre and see if one is free and also find an anaesthetist who is immediately available. We will open the wounds on the table and deal with them as required.”

Fortunately, both the theatre and anaesthetist were readily available and the patient was transferred from the A&E to the operating theatre directly. Dr Chege came with him and assisted me. Once we started suturing the lacerations and arrested the haemorrhage, the patient’s condition improved. Dr Muturi, the anaesthetist testified to that effect. “The pressure is going up and the pulse is slowing down and it is now of good volume.”

It took us three gruelling hours to suture all his wounds and as Tabitha and I came out of the theatre, we heard the birds chirping providing a welcome musical relief. Waiting outside was the A&E Sister with a middle aged couple.

“How is he?” The lady asked. Looking at the hesitation on my face, she understood and explained. “I am Rhoda, Walter’s mother and this is his father, Justus.”

“Walter went to the movie in his dad’s car and we got very worried when he did not return home by midnight and did not phone us either. So I repeatedly rang him on his mobile and panicked when we did not get a reply. We started ringing police stations and hospitals. After many false starts, when we rang here we were put through to Sister Ng’ang’a and discovered that a young man replying to Walter’s description had indeed arrived at the A&E and was in the operating theatre. So here we are to find out how our son is.”

Many wounds

Convinced of their bona-fides, I replied. “We have no history but judging by his injuries, we think he was assaulted. He has got many wounds and has bled a lot but now that the bleeding has stopped, he should be alright.”

'REASON TO WORRY'

“Is there any reason to worry?” The father asked.

“Yes, there is.” I replied candidly.” That is why we are sending him to the ICU for a couple of days. He needs close monitoring and when his parameters are normal, we will send him to the surgical ward.”

“If a private room is available, we would prefer him to go there.” The mother requested. 

Everything went according to plan and Walter eventually went into a private room. It was after he was transferred that we managed to obtain his medical history.

“I was heading home in Karen after the movie when I was held up by a gang of carjackers just after I passed the Jamhuri Park gate,” he explained. “They were obviously after the car but I was determined not to give it to them. They assaulted me with a panga and cut me in various places on my head. In warding off their blows, I put my forearms up and sustained cuts there.”

“Why did you resist?” I asked. “Because the advice from the police is to comply with their demands and not even make an eye contact with them.”

“Because the car is a BMW model and belongs to my dad. It is his pride possession and he was very reluctant to lend it to me in the first place. He wanted me to take my mum’s old jalopy or better still go in a matatu.”

Then with a charming smile, the first one I had seen on his face, he added. “I wanted the BMW because I wanted to impress my new girl friend!”

That answer made my day because surgical history is usually stale and dry but I find that the human element makes it interesting.

I left Walter happy and progressing satisfactorily and was therefore surprised to find his mum waiting to see me in my office when I arrived there. Regina, my secretary followed me in my consulting room and whispered in my ear.” She just arrived out of the blue and seeing all the  patients waiting to see you said. “It is something urgent and I need to see him now.’”

“Okay,” I replied. “Please fit her in between patients.”

Going by her terrified face when Rhoda was ushered in, I thought that the sky had fallen. She made it worse by glancing round as if she was looking if there was a bugging device in my office.

“Thank you for seeing me without an appointment,” Rhoda said and added: “What I am about to tell you is highly confidential.”

“Please don’t worry because whatever is said here is buried here,” I assured her.

“Walter was a small baby when his biological father and I parted. He and I were both teachers in Busia, away from home. We rushed into bed and subsequently into marriage, but soon found out that we were temperamentally ill-suited. But by then I found myself pregnant with Walter,” she took a long pause, as if still searching for a hidden recorder.

“When he was a year old, we decided to part because Salim got a posting in Mombasa, his home town. In our son’s interest, we made a pact that there was no need to tell Walter about our marriage and subsequent separation. It would be a bad start to his life and a stigma.” Another pause and the absorbing saga continued. “In time, I was transferred to Nairobi and both of us remarried. We told our spouses of our pact, because we wanted them to know and they fell in line.”

“Pray, why are you telling me all this?” I asked, looking at my watch and despite being fully absorbed in the human drama, I was concerned about booked patients waiting to see me.

“I am coming to it,” replied Rhoda, unperturbed by my interruption. “All was well until now.  But when Walter was in the ICU, somebody in the know informed Salim that if he wanted to see his son alive, he should rush to Nairobi. He is here now and wants to see his biological son. We all deliberated on how to introduce him to Walter and decided that this is a lesson to us and we should come clean.”

“I still don’t understand my role,” I said.

“I want you to be with us when we tell Walter.”

Wonders never cease, I thought as I accepted this new role. I was very impressed by Rhoda’s performance when she repeated the story to Walter, which she had told me. At the end of her sentimental safari she asked her son. “Do you wish to see your biological father?”

Walter realised the full impact of his reply and kept us in a long suspense before replying to the critical question. He simply said. “Yes.”

Rhoda walked out of the private room and came back with Salim and introduced him to his long lost son, her current husband Justus and finally me. “You don’t have to introduce Salim as Walter’s father. The son is a carbon copy of the father, just a younger edition.” I remarked.

The reunion was tearful but dignified and filled with decorum. There was no rancour or recriminations. Instead, there was lot of hugging and kissing and I decided to leave the family to celebrate without me encroaching on their privacy. I bid a quiet good-bye to Rhoda and slipped out. As I left, I heard Salim say to his newly found son.

“You have to pull through now because we have to make up for lost time.”

 And he did!