BMJ  2003;327:96 (12 July), doi:10.1136/bmj.327.7406.96

Filler

The greater man, the greater courtesy

It was another busy admission day. I was working as a surgical senior house officer in Calcutta Medical College and was part of an eight member team, coping with the usual 30 or so admissions. It was the middle of the night when I saw a 9 year old boy who had just been brought to us by his father. The boy seemed to have developed generalised peritonitis and was not looking good.

"Why did you bring him so late?" I asked rather abruptly.

The boy's father, a softly spoken man, tried to explain his difficult social circumstances, lack of transport at this time, etc. Then he suddenly paused and said, "I understand his condition is not good. Please do whatever you can." I was taken aback by the polite resoluteness of the man.

We started the treatment. The child needed a laparotomy for what turned out to be a perforated small bowel due to typhoid. By the time I left next morning, his condition was slightly better but still far from good.

The next day I went away on holiday for 10 days. On my return to Calcutta, I faced a tremendous downpour of rain as I left Howrah railway station. And, guess what, I had just missed the 44 bus that would take me close to my college.

As I was cursing my luck, something strange happened. The bus reversed, and a friendly voice addressed me: "Doctor-Sahib, please get up quickly." I thanked the driver for his kindness, but it was only after I had left the bus that I realised that the driver was the father of the boy whom I met in the hospital.

The next day, I proudly boasted to my colleagues: "Has a bus ever reversed just for you? It happened to me yesterday."

After sharing my story, I asked about the boy. "He died after a few days," came the reply.

I was humbled twice in two weeks. Firstly, by the determination of a man who kept his head cool at a time when his son was most unwell. Secondly, when he unreservedly showed his appreciation by picking me up in bad weather, perhaps even risking his job.

What did I learn? Since then, I have never asked any parents or guardians why they have brought their child or dear one late. No one does, not by choice anyway. As to the courtesy, well, I think I had a lesson or two from the humble bus driver.

department of surgery, University of Aberdeen

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