A couple of years ago, Jenny and Jan – our daughter and son – were wondering what to give us for our wedding anniversary. When a marriage has blissfully lasted for over 60 years with no sign of its shine fading, it is natural for the children of that happy union to run out of ideas regarding an anniversary present.
Since they work and live in England and we were going to be with them for this special occasion, they hit upon an innovative idea.
Knowing how much Marie and I enjoy visiting a theatre in the West End of London when we are there, they decided to take us to see Saigon, a very popular show at the time, and follow it with a dinner in Soho.
Saigon is a musical based on the story of a Vietnamese woman, who gave her life so that her son could go to the US and avail himself of the American dream.
As often happens in war, the American soldiers established temporary liaison with pretty Vietnamese girls and some of them “bore fruit”.
When this particular soldier went back home, he left behind a bereft Vietnamese girl and a child born out of this illicit love.
Subsequently, he married in the US and in time informed his American wife about the child he had left behind in Vietnam.
At her behest, they decided to go back to Vietnam to trace him.
The Vietnamese girl realised that since the soldier was married, there was no place for her in his life.
As a climax to the story, she sings the famous song – ‘I will give my life for you’.
And, indeed she does take her own life so that the soldier has no choice but to take the boy to America.
As we were having the celebration dinner in Soho, I related to my family at least three occasions when, as a surgeon, I had seen a mother either give her life for her unborn child or put her baby before herself.
The first case was that of Mrs Bankart, who I was called to see at about midnight by the doctor in the casualty department.
‘I have a couple here involved in a road accident and badly injured,’ Dr Evelyn Kamau said in an agitated tone. ‘The man has what looks like a ruptured bladder and fractured pelvis. The woman has serious injuries also, broken ribs, lacerated lung, head injury and a fractured leg. And she is nine months pregnant,’ the doctor added.
‘Good,’ I said, ‘May I now see how you are?’
‘You may,’ she replied. ‘But please don’t waste much time on me. I want you to save my baby.’
‘Alright,’ I asked Dr Evelyn Kamau who was with me. ‘Who is the obstetrician on call?’
‘Please ring him and ask him to come,’ I said and then examined Mrs Bankart.
True enough, she had multiple serious injuries but her refrain throughout was. ‘Don’t worry about me. Just rescue my baby.’
‘While you see her, I will go and examine the husband,’ I said to Dr Ogutu.
“I think I need to do an urgent Caesarean to get the baby out,” Dr Ogutu said.
As I was repairing Mr Bankart’s bladder, I heard the cry of a newborn baby next door.
On completion of surgery, I went into the theatre, where Mrs Bankart was being operated.
The sister from the maternity ward had come to collect the baby. But my heart sank when I saw the ICU team working on Mrs Bankart.
‘I think we got the baby out just in time,’ Dr Ogutu said. ‘But the severe internal chest injury has caused cardiac arrest.’
The newborn covered with a red baby blanket lying in a special cot left the theatre, blissfully unaware that his mother had given her own life to bring him into this world – alive.
