It was a routine Wednesday and I was on my regular evening rounds to check on all my patients before I left for the day. I knocked and entered the room of a patient I had operated upon the same morning. I saw him sitting in a chair, his sizable single room suddenly appearing crammed because of heavier-than-usual family traffic. His two-year-old baby, who they must have sneaked in somehow—probably in a spacious IKEA bag—was plonked on his lap. His wife, a few sisters, parents, grandparents, and a bunch of cousins encircled him. Only a few hours after the spine surgery, he was in great spirits, rambunctiously guffawing away with his gang. My team and I were greeted with happy and smiling faces. “Come, come, doctor, you’ve come at the right time! Everyone, this is Rawnak’s doctor,” his wife said, introducing me to rest of the extended family, breezing through four generations in a jiffy. I was still a little befuddled as to what was going on, until I saw a tall mango cake on the table with ‘Happy Birthday’ artistically engraved on it.

Clapping hands, we sang the quintessential birthday song while the little girl on his lap wisely blew out the candle before the smoke detectors went off. They offered us a big piece that we readily gobbled. Rawnak fed his daughter, his wife fed him, and then she went around the room, giving everyone a tiny bite in traditional celebratory fashion. “Why would you choose your birthday to get an operation?” I asked, intrigued. Rawnak laughed out loud, his hilarity contained only by the stretch on his stitches. “I was so bothered by this leg pain because of my slip disc, and like you know, I tried everything, but nothing worked. I just wanted a new lease of life and what better a day to do this than on my birthday!” he reasoned. “I didn’t want to spend my birthday in pain,” he said, devouring his cake. It was a strange perspective, but an interesting one.