How does one sum up the privilege of working with this man in just a few short words?
As the text came through from Dan letting me know Dr. K was gone, my heart went numb but, in my head, hundreds of memories came flooding back. When Wendy and I connected by phone, we laughed (and cried) as we recounted oh so many memories of our time with him. I was his medical assistant for about 14 1/2 years while Wendy was his nurse all but 5 of his 32 years at MDC.
His accent was quite strong so when he hired me, I had the awesome privilege of meeting him at the nursery first thing every morning. He had me help "interpret" for our new moms who maybe struggled to understand him.
It took a while even for me to learn this skill as one day he asked me for a cow. I didn't want to be disrespectful but had no idea what he was referring to. I looked at Wendy for help and she was of no help whatsoever. Finally, he said, "Cow. Cow!" and pointed at the empty roll of paper towels.
One rarely, if ever saw Dr. K angry but on this particular busy day, a mom left the clinic with her little darling. Not long after she'd left, the phone rang. It was the patient's father. He insisted on speaking to Dr. Kotrapu personally. (Back then, doctors still did take phone calls!) Wendy gave the phone to Dr. K and it seemed like a typical conversation. But suddenly, Dr. K raised his voice and practically shouted, "Yes?? Well, you know, yo wife get all piss off befo I could splain!" The wife had understood Dr. K to say her little boy had "gangrene" when in reality, he told her the boy had a "ganglion cyst".
Wendy has a very soft heart and she can cry easily when that heart is touched. One day, Dr. K was going to explain something emotional to her and he stopped mid-sentence. When she asked for clarification, he responded, "If I tell you, you gone all banana!" He didn't want her to cry, so he withheld the story.
Dr. K's sense of humor was perfectly matched with his ability to laugh at himself.
We'd ask such things as, "With your dark skin, how do you know if you're sunburned?" His answer: "I look like burnt toast." And he'd smile that toothy grin.
Probably the story he is most notorious for, speaking of accent is the day he came out of Room 36. He'd just seen a new patient and he had the most baffled look on his face. We asked what was wrong and he answered, "The mom of this baby said her sister brought her child to me some years ago - and I told her the baby had a
hot mama!!!" (Heart Murmur). We asked, "Oh no!!! What did you say?"
He said, "I asked, "did she ever come back?"
He had a Danny story nearly every day. That boy was their world.
One story I remember was that he had been singing to Danny the night before. Danny told him he sounded like a cave man. Oh well!!!
On a serious note, though, Dr. Niran Kotrapu was a gifted pediatrician and his practice was proof of that. It would be nothing for us to see 40-60 children in a day!
He was tough and tender at the same time. We saw him run with a baby in his arms through the tunnel to the hospital, all the while performing CPR on the child - who, by the way, survived! He had a sixth sense about those little humans which made him an excellent diagnostician. He cared so deeply. They were 'his' kids. He didn't forget them by name! Even recently, I called to share news with him, from back 'home' regarding one of 'his kids'. He not only remembered their name but the names of their brothers and sisters!!!
I will always count it a privilege to have worked with and been a part of his team. Dr. K will never be forgotten in this girl's broken heart!
Timmie, Dan and Ivy, Kaden and Mabel, may the stories you read on this wonderful website heal your hurting hearts in the months and years to come. Know that you each were Number 1 in his world!!!
