By Nikita Mehdiratta

Seared into the depths of my being, this profound encounter unfolded during my tenure as an intern doctor in 2020 amid the bustling chaos of the emergency room in India. The scene is set in a small, dimly lit hospital room with medical equipment scattered around. The air is heavy with tension, pain, and the smell of antiseptics. As I walked into the emergency ward, my eyes were immediately drawn to a young, 17-year-old boy lying in a corner bed, his body covered in burn wounds. My solemn expression was concealed behind a surgical mask. The suffering he must be experiencing seemed unimaginable. Taking a deep breath, I approached him, offering a reassuring smile.

I tried my best to remain composed, reminding myself of my duty as a doctor to alleviate pain and provide comfort. “Hold on, my friend,” I whispered, my voice filled with empathy. I removed the damaged tissue with painstaking care, exposing raw, vulnerable flesh beneath. The stench of burnt flesh filled the room, making breathing difficult. As I worked, I exchanged glances with the nurses, their expressions mirroring my sadness and determination. Throughout the procedure, the boy’s family stood by his side, their anguish palpable. The mother clutched onto a pendant of her deity, silently praying for her son’s recovery. The father stood silently, his face etched with guilt and despair.

Despite his efforts to remain strong, the patient, let’s call him Alex, winced in pain as I began tending to his injuries. As I continued to work on dressing the burn wounds, the screams of the teenage boy echoed in the minor operating room. Each peel of charred skin brought a fresh wave of agony to his already tormented body. I could see tears streaming down his face, mixing with the sweat and grime that covered his skin. “Please… make it stop!” Alex screamed, overwhelmed by the pain. I paused momentarily, assuring him we would take breaks whenever he needed them. “Just remember,” I said, “talking might help distract you from the pain.” With tears streaming down his face, Alex weakly nodded, trying to divert his attention from the torment. I conversed as I continued my work, hoping to alleviate his suffering. I asked him about his daily routine and what he enjoyed doing. His voice trembled as he spoke. “Well, I go to school every day,” Alex began, his voice shaky. “And after finishing my homework, I love playing cricket with my friends. It’s the best part of my day.” His words struck me like a dagger, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had led him to this point. What could drive a young boy to inflict such immense suffering upon himself? Summoning my courage, I decided to ask the question that haunted my thoughts. “Alex, if you don’t mind me asking, how did this happen to you?” His response struck me with disbelief and confusion. “My girlfriend… she broke up with me,” he confessed. I struggled to comprehend how heartbreak could lead someone so full of life and joy to such a desperate act.

Finally, after an eternity, I finished dressing his wounds. As the conversation with Alex ended, it became evident that healing wasn’t just about treating physical ailments but addressing the emotional and psychological scars that often remained hidden. As I left the minor operating room, I couldn’t shake off the heavy weight in my chest. The boy’s cries haunted me, and a whirlwind of inquiries surged through my mind, urging me to delve deeper into the intricacies of human behavior. It left me pondering perplexing questions. We have inevitably encountered heartbreak, traversing the emotional labyrinth of loss and pain. Yet, in the face of adversity, why do some people contemplate ending their own lives while others even suppress any inclination or thought of such despair? Is it conceivable that a complex interplay of genetics and environment shapes our cognitive frameworks, influencing how we perceive the world and respond to its tumultuous challenges? Mental illnesses can transcend generations, their origins entwined in our inherited traits and the environmental triggers surrounding us.

This experience forever changed me as a doctor, leaving an indelible mark on my professional journey. As the scene concluded, a newfound resolve filled my being. I made a solemn vow to truly hear the cries that extend far beyond the realm of the physical. Driven by the sincere desire to provide enhanced support to those grappling with mental anguish, I chose psychiatry as my specialization. With compassion as my guiding light, I have embarked on this chosen path.