टिफिन | tiffin | lunchbox

[This drawing was of a young lady that had one eye removed. As I was drawing her I noticed she was expressing discomfort and called the doctor to examine her, after which they took her for some more attention as she was sadly beginning to suffer from the realisation of what had just happened.]

OT Operating Theatre. While I am enjoying every day in the Hospital, the 08:30 starts in the theatre on Wednesdays have a slight edge.

I’ve come to understand the spirit of SCEH. A small white table with tea, coffee and potluck prepared in tiffin boxes draws a hum of doctors to inspect each other’s various preparations. After my first Wednesday in surgery, I also bring a tiffin box to share – usually bread pakora, idlis and uttapam – always opened by others and enjoyed. At first throughout the whole day, yet these days, by midday. Another gift – appreciation and given permission to mingle with the Hospital staff. Slowly, I’m beginning to blend in.

From the tiffin table I change into scrubs and enter with hairnet and a mask that will always remind me of Covid-19. Then into another world – of battles fought, won and sometimes lost. It’s a world where the eyes communicate with expression and subtleties. A level of focus which can be physically felt. Equipment and electricity humming in the background with intermittent peeps and whirls. The surgeons have their instruments prepared, and I have mine; camera, pencil and sketchbook.

At the start I mentioned ‘enjoying’ Wednesdays, but this is actually the wrong word. Saw surgery take place on an 11-year-old who had cancer of the eye. She will have a good chance of survival, but they invariably see patients late and consequently it’s more difficult for them to help in time. This is of course the nature of cancer. Had to witness. This was one of them and it’s difficult.