Why Did I Choose Pediatric Intensive Care?

— Dr. Jaykishan Tripathi, Consultant Pediatric Critical Care

Many times, I wonder why I chose Pediatric Intensive Care — a branch where I have to be on my toes 24×7, cannot put my phone on silent, and where an all-night call usually means an emergency.

After my MBBS, during my internship at Sion Hospital, I often found myself wondering how people choose a specialty and which branch I should pursue. Like many of us during college, I was a confused soul.

Then I was posted in the Pediatric Department, where I met tiny humans. They were unaware of their medical problems, yet happily playing with the child in the neighboring bed. That day, I decided—I wanted to pursue pediatrics.

But life didn't stop there.

I soon realized there were very few pediatric tertiary-care centres where critically ill children could receive advanced care. That gap stayed with me. So I decided to become a pediatric intensivist—someone who lives and works inside the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), where the smallest patients fight the biggest battles.

I chose a life where I have to pick up the phone on the first ring, drive to the PICU in the middle of the night, miss family events, and manage ventilation, dialysis, and some of the sickest children you can imagine.

But the other side of this life is something words can barely describe.

The last year at KIMS Hospital, Thane, has given me immense satisfaction—and taught me why every family deserves access to good pediatric ICU Thane has to offer, close to home, without having to travel far in a crisis.

A mother brought me biryani on Eid after her child survived a life-threatening reperfusion injury, managed with the help of dialysis to save his leg.

A father gifted me a Nanha Krishna idol. His son and I even share a name connected to Krishna. His child had survived prolonged ventilation and pulmonary hypertension—the kind of recovery that reminds you why you signed up for this in the first place.

A young girl who had lost 15 kg and arrived in a wheelchair due to a missed diagnosis was finally diagnosed with SLE. One month later, at her follow-up, she gifted me sunglasses and took a selfie with me for Instagram. Small moments like these carry us through the hardest nights.

But the most satisfying line I heard came from a father just last month.

His child had a severe MRSA infection, respiratory failure, a pH of 6.9, CO₂ of 90, and a pneumothorax. ECMO seemed to be the only option left. We were losing hope.

The father, a laborer, told us he could not afford ECMO or treatment at a private hospital. He was planning to take his child to Wadia Hospital instead.

The next day, during counselling, he said something I will never forget:

"Sir, your security guard — someone I know — told me, 'I have been working here for six months, and I haven't seen a dead body come out of this PICU during my shift. So keep your child here.'"

That one sentence gave me—and I believe every intensivist—a different kind of motivation.

We may sacrifice our sleep, our birthdays, our anniversaries, and our family events. But when that ICU phone rings, we cannot ignore it. Because somewhere behind that call is a tiny human being and a family hoping that we will answer.

This is also why we've worked to build a dependable Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) at KIMS Hospitals, Thane — so that no parent has to choose between affordability and the best possible care for their child in a crisis. If your child ever needs advanced critical care, you can learn more about our Pediatric ICU in Thane here.