What Might Have Been

By Nana Dadzie Ghansah

I was securing the arterial line I had just placed in her left radial artery when I heard her singing quietly under her breathe. It piqued my interest, so I listened closer. She was singing along with the song playing on the station we had playing in the operating room.

I looked at her emaciated face half-covered by a mask and stated, “You must love that song.”

“I love those old songs. They remind me of growing up”, she replied.

The answer made me conscious of my age. I was in medical school when the song was released. She was six.

“What kind of music do you like?” I asked her.

“Country, classic rock, rap, and old gospel… all good music really”, she replied.

I watched as she answered. Her eyes were suddenly dancing. That hungry look was gone.

She went on: “Music speaks to everyone. It is a language everyone understands.”

I could swear I saw her smile under that mask.

I decided to explore further.

I asked her whether she had kids. She had three and a grandchild with another on the way. The joy in her voice was unmistakable.