Thank God, he is not God!

Dr Braver led the crane driver’s wife and other relatives to the small quiet room behind the doctor’s office. “I’m sorry your husband is slow to recover,” he said, and after easing his tie slightly, he continued, “Surgery has been performed, as you know, by an experienced and senior surgeon. Now he’s in the hands of the anaesthetists.”

The crane driver’s wife gently wiped off a stream of tear from her cheek and said softly, “Tell me one thing.” She swallowed hard and unsuccessfully fought back her tears, “He will survive, won’t he?”

Dr Braver rested his elbows on his thighs, looked piercingly into the crane driver’s wife, and replied, “I am not God. Am I?”

The woman wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. She stood up and looked straight at Dr Braver. And with all the remaining courage within her, said firmly, “No, you are not God. And thank God that you are not. But you are playing God. Or perhaps, you are playing super God. Or what can I say?”

“I am sorry, woman. I know exactly how you feel…” Dr Braver replied.

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Dr Braver got up and moved closer to her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “I care. And it is because I care so much that I have done all that I have done for your husband.”

The woman fiddled clumsily for her cigarette. Dr Braver momentarily dipped his hand in his pocket and brought out his gold plated fire lighter. He gently lit her cigarette and watched her ostentatiously as she gently took a puff on her cigarette, fighting back the tears, which were welling up in her eyes. Then she walked slowly to the window, and after gazing over the meadows, she blew out a cloud of smoke. And in a more determined voice, she said, “Now tell me, Dr Braver. I want you to be honest with me. Do you think he will recover?” She held her head and started to sob.

Dr Braver cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. Then after a brief silence, he cleared his throat again and replied, “It is difficult. Isn’t it? You want me to tell you whether your husband will die or not. Well, what can I say? If I say he will die you won’t believe me. If I say he will not die you won’t believe either. I think the answer is in your mind. Whatever your mind tells you.”

The woman summoned more courage and replied, “What I want to know is if my husband will bloody wake up from that horrible bed with all the tubes and wires attached.”

“May be, may be not. It’s a matter of luck. Isn’t it?” Dr Braver said casually as he picked his briefcase and got up. And after adjusting his tie, he added, “Keep up the courage. Let’s wait and see what happens over the next twenty-four hours or so. Nice talking to you, madam.”

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