Category Archives: Politics

The Poverty Vow

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Long day. Came home. Ritual steamy hot bath to wash away the hospital feel, followed by steaming hot dinner. Switched on jazz, and I picked up the pasta. Heaven descended upon my tongue.

“How perfect this moment is!” I thought, and that’s where I was wrong. The phone rang.

“Sir, 18 year old buy, had fever since a day, took some tablets, became unconscious, now comatose. Vitals are stable, although he is coughing occasionally. No past history significant. Poor family, cannot afford treatment. Father is a labourer. What should I do?”

“Get him into the ICU, intubate if required and stabilise. Arrange for an MRI”

“OK Sir, but Sir they don’t even have a deposit. They had first gone to the government hospital, but as they were not happy there they have come here”. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“We will work something out. I am on my way” I replied.

In an hour, after examining the boy and seeing his MRI and other tests, we concluded that he had viral encephalitis. The standard medicines were started.

The boy’s father, an obvious poor slum dweller, was in a state of shock. The mother, sobbing, told me the history. I reassured them. When I explained the diagnosis and treatment they asked some questions.

“We don’t understand anything, we are illiterate and poor. Do anything Sir, Just save my son, Sir” the father folded his hands together. Private hospitals have a quota for free patients, but usually it is always overloaded. I requested the hospital management to please make this a free case, they accepted.

The next day, the child opened his eyes. On the third day he started responding. I was quite elated to have his mother speak with him. However, his respiration was still shallow, and blood presure very low. His heart rate was fluctuating due to the effect of viral infection. He was still critical. I spoke to his parents twice every day, specifically reassuring them. Poor patients must never feel that they are not equally cared for. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

That evening, as I attended my patients in the OPD, the patient’s father came in, requested that he wanted to have a word. He came in with six other people. None of them could possibly be poor, given their get ups.

“Yes?”I asked.

The patient’s father looked at the giant next to him. “You ask” he said to the giant.

The giant, chewing his gutkha, askked me “What’s wrong with his son?”

“I have explained them thrice”I replied, “he has viral infection of the brain. There’s a lot of swelling upon his brain”.

“How come he is not improving? His BP was normal when he came. He did not have any heart problems. Now you tell us his heart is not functioning well” asked another medical superstar with white linen and gold teeth. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Yes, this happens commonly with viral infections” I replied, feeling hopeless. How to teach complicated medicine to this pure- muscular class? I wondered.

“But you said he had infection in the brain. How come now he has it in the heart? Is the treatment wrong?” Asked someone similar among them, in a tone nastier than medical examiners.

I looked at the patient’s father. He was looking at the ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.

“Listen, Sir”, I told them, “Your patient has viral infection, it has primarily affected the brain, but involvement or dysfunction of other organs is well known with such infections, this is not something new to us. We are on guard, dealing with the situation. Nothing is wrong about the treatment, in fact his brain swelling has improved, and he is conscious now. Ask his mother” I looked at her.

“I don’t know” she said, “we don’t find any improvement in my child. Nobody tells us anything”.

“Haven’t I explained you and his father patient’s condition every day?” I asked. They did not reply.

The white linen gold teeth spoke again: “We want a report. We want to show the case to another doctor”

That was a relief. I gladly wrote them a report. They went doctor-shopping all day. They returned next day. Almost everyone had asked them to continue the same treatment that we had advised, except some desperate non-specialist telling them to shift the patient immediately for a surgery at his hospital. Even our gold-toothed medical superstar understood that it was wrong! (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“We will continue treatment here only. But our patient must survive” came an open threat.

”I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee you anything. You may please transfer the patient under the care of any doctor of your choice” I told them.

“No no, you continue to treat him.But if anything goes wrong, we will file a police complaint. We will ruin this hospital”said one of them.

I am allergic to threats. I don’t allow them twice from the same source in my life. How could any doctor guarantee that there could be no complications? How could I say that the patient could not react to any medicine in such a critical condition? If every patient could have guaranteed improvement, what’s the need for a doctor?

“I am sorry, I am planning for a leave next few days. I won’t be able to see your patient. I have requested our management to transfer your case to another doctor” I told them.

There was a movie “Teesri Kasam”in which the lead character, at the end of the movie, vows never to help the character of the lead actress in the movie, because the very wish and effort to help her has shattered his life, caused him regret. Most Doctors are now being forced to take such a vow. Urban Poverty is not so simple and innocent in a hospital as it appears to the media and society. Whether it is the roadside rowdiness of slum dwellers who roam around with weapons or a maid’s drunkard husband in civilised society, we all understand the misuse of poverty status well anywhere outside hospital, but somehow when this happens in a hospital, the blame is automaytically pinned upon the hospital or the doctor.

But who among the vote-mongers will speak against the majority voting bank?

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The Other Side Of Life

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Wear your helmet” said my grandma, as I kicked my scooter “and don’t argue”.

I could have argued with the POTUS, but not with my grandma. I had come to my uncle’s house to visit my grandma, with the additional attraction of eating the delicious Diwali snacks she made. I wore my helmet and scooted back as fast as I could. My duty started at eight PM in the ICU, and the resident doctor who was on duty had warned me that she had to be with her in-laws for her first Diwali with the new family. All icu beds were full, one patient was intermittently gasping, unlikely to recover, and three others were fluctuating.

Firecrackers, lighting, happy people in new clothes were all around, yet out of mind. I parked the scooter outside the ward and ran in.

“Thank you thank you” said my predecessor, and explained me the cases and ongoing treatment.

When at the bed of the patient who was intermittently worsening, she told me “Listen he’s on dobutamine drip, we don’t have it, I have borrowed two ampoules from the medical shop outside. I will pay him later. His family has no money”. Many critical drugs were not available in the icu, a common problem even today across India.

She left.

Behind the ICU building, a political party was celebrating the festival in a pandal, with repeated announcements of its achievements. Loud lewd music was playing, less irritating than the dramatised loud repitition of the party leaders’names. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Three more heart patients came in, but the ward beds were full, there already were twelve patients on the floor. This is a common scenario in almost all government hospitals across India. We begged the ward resident doctor to help us, and he agreed to shift three of his patients to the floor. The heart patients were taken on the beds outside ICU, and their medicines were started. We struggled at every step. The student nurses, enthusiastic and energetic, virtually carry half the weight of the doctor’s work upon their shoulders. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A municipal councillor walked in drunk, and started abusing the ward resident doctor for shifting “his”patient to the floor bed. Aggressive and drunk, his language was more offensive than his personality. We tried explaining to him that there were critical heart patients, but he insisted that his patient be taken on the bed. We then requested a stable young patient, who agreed reluctantly to go to the floor bed.

While this was being done, another old man was rushed in, his bronchitis/ asthma had worsened due to the excess pollution, a common problem in modern India. He was too late, his ambulance had been held in traffic. Already blue-black, he could not be saved inspite of frantic efforts. There were no relatives with him, we completed the paperwork and sent him to the mortuary.

In a few minutes, the fluctuating icu patient had a cardiac arrest. Loud noises of emergency carts, glass ampoules being broken open, and panicked cries filled up the ward. Starting CPR, we tried best to restart the silent heart. Such moments are beyond prayers, the doctor’s heart appeals through his hands, a dead patient’s heart. After a few minutes, the best sound in the world- that of a heart beating again- could be heard. Fingers crossed, we restarted his life-supports and gently informed his wife about what had happened. She was sobbing violently. I went to the doctors’ room to wash my hands.

It was then that the political pandal music could be heard again. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Our party has made this big decision. You will all have to pay a little extra, but we will give you a modern, advanced, beautiful India. We will make more advanced satellites, bridges, we will buy the best fighter jets in the world, more bullet trains and bigger statues shortly. We are already ranking very high in the world, we will continue to grow. The only major problem in India is other political parties” the speeches were heard loudly, with proud shouts of joy and claps from the pandal.

At about 5 AM, things settled down enough to sip some water. The nurses had made tea for themselves, the incharge sister Mrs Joseph lovingly ordered me to take a quick break and have a cup of tea. She read my face. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Doctor, I have been in this government hospital for nearly thirty years now. Nothing changes, whichever party comes to power. No one cares about the poor patients or their life. We need millions of doctors and nurses more, we need beds, equipment, so many more medicines, but we have to keep begging to the government as if we need it for personal use. Hundreds of patients die every day due to lacknof Medical care, because they cannot get beds, medicines or critical care. I was fed up long ago and wanted to quit. I had excellent offers from middle east and even UK. But I thought, if I left, who will look after these poor patients?”. She was to retire shortly.

Thousands of excellent doctors and nurses, pharmacists, and oher hospital staff carry on caring for poor and desperate patients in government and even private hospitals all over India, they are paid peanuts, are exploited inhumanly, yet keep working through festivals and celebrations, away from their families, with a smile upon their face. Right now, millions of critical patients are being attended by thousands of doctors, nurses and other hospital staff without thinking about salary, rewards, medals, sweets, new clothes or any form of celebration. The only medical festival is a saved life.

This post is to stand up and say a heartfelt “Thank You” to these doctors and nurses who are spending this Diwali with their patients.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Please share unedited

A Good Doctor’s Daughter

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

We sat inside her home, not able to speak. It was a Sunday. The doorbell rang. My classmate Siya looked at me, indicating with her eyes to please answer it.

Siya had lost her father that early morning. We had just finished the last rites and returned with that feeling of emptiness of life which prevails at such moments. Her father was a successful pediatrician, known for his excellent diagnosis and humanitarian approach. He had passed away at a very early age due to a rare cancer. He had kept working till the day he was admitted. His devastated family was staring at a long dark tunnel.

I went and opened the door.

“Doctorsaab hai kya? (Is the doctor home?)” asked a man in his thirties. Behind him were his wife and a son, about ten years old.

“No” I replied, but his wife immediately said: “Please, my son is his patient since last ten years, he has fever since last three days, we must meet the doctor”.

I requested him to please clear the door, shut it behind myself, and whispered to him: “Doctorsaab passed away early this morning”.

They looked at each other.

“How?” the husband asked.

“He had a cancer, he had some sudden complication” I replied.

After a pause. The husband asked “ Can you suggest some good pediatrician nearby?”

I did, and they went away. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

There was no word of feeling sorry for the doctor who had treated their son for ten years. Not even a formal gesture of condolence. Their child wasn’t very sick either, to skip the basic courtesy. For the next few days, I was at their place on and off, and somehow expected that man to return to express some form of condolence or gratitude. It never happened.

Then over a period of years, the truth gradually dawned: that this is normal. No one comes back to ask a dead or retired doctor’s family if they need any help.

Another young colleague of mine, a diabetologist, passed away recently. He had done phenomenal social work, treating many patients free, and even arranging for many patient’s education. Every time he referred a poor patient to me, he called up, requested me to see the patient free. We all gladly did. We had many common patients who followed up later with me, after his death. Unfortunately none of the patients who he had called about ever expressed anything beyond “He was a good doctor. Now I go to this doctor”.

I wonder how many of these patients will ever realize that every time this doctor had seen them free, he had taken a share of what his own children would have inherited, and given it to that patient.

I am a fan of Ayn Rand. I believe that it is nobody’s duty to help me, and that I should rely only upon myself. But unless this stands on both sides, it becomes meaningless. While the expectations from every doctor are expressed in heaps, when it comes to rewarding the good results “blessings, satisfaction of saving a life and good wishes” are conveniently considered enough. I sincerely doubt whether the future generations of doctors will be able to buy their petrol with blessings and satisfaction. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Why is the compulsion of “courteous, polite speaking” only applied to the doctors? Why cannot our society learn the same? The idiotic claim (often supported by some media legal officers) that ‘a patient is in distress and so doctors must accept the anger, impolite behavior, violence or abuse’ is so stupid and meaningless! Will a judge ever accept such reactions by an angry criminal? By the way, if the patient is stressed, is the doctor also not stressed for years? Is the doctor then allowed to misbehave? If the doctors can learn courtesy, why cannot others?

It is so funny that even the great politicians who keep on throwing mud and blood upon each other, use basest language of threats in public day in and day out advise doctors about how they should learn courtesy, humanity and communication.

Siya has now become a successful practitioner. After her father’s death, she wasn’t helped by the government, society or the patients that her father treated. The family had to compromise a lot to complete education of all the sibs.Yet she became an excellent doctor by her own wish, her own conviction and continues to be praised by her patients for her courtseys. After all, she is a good doctor’s daughter!

But her smile, when her patient compliments her, is hollow.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Please share unedited.

Hon’ble Babaji’s Medical Interview

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A long fleet of luxury cars entered our big hospital. Sirens and whistles, security guards brandishing their AK 56s. and shouts of humiliation for the common men and women suddenly filled up the scene.

Hon’ble Babaji had arrived. A vacuous smile and blessing hands greeted one and all. Babaji was known to cure one and all with his blessings, secret medicines, chants, touch, and even exercises. There was nothing he didn’t treat, so he was the ultimate superspecialist with highest experience and cure rate. No deaths were ever reported among those millions treated by Babaji.

I was in the ward with some of my colleagues, a junior doctor then. The most reliable pleasure in the life of junior doctors is pretty, beautiful and handsome colleagues to work with! Rare exceptions with extreme merit are of course there.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A rich businessman and senior minister was admitted in emergency with a heart attack last night. Doctors had performed an emergency angioplasty, barely in time to save his life. Highest offices in the country had warned doctors to ‘do the very best’ for him, till the time he could be flown out of the country for the most advanced treatment. After the meeting of money, influence and power, we got a chance to request Babaji for a small interview to guide us inexperienced doctors. Looking at some of the prettiest faces among us, he gracefully consented. Here are some excerpts of the interview for the benefit of mundane, inexperienced new generation doctors and junta:

Doctor A ( looks OK): Namaskar Babaji! Can you tell us where you studied this art of curing all the illnesses?

Babaji: Beta this is the inheritance of generations, bestowed upon those who perform some secret rituals, it took me many years in the forest to learn it all.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Me ( looks ugly as you know): But Babaji, did you have patients to treat in the forests?

Angry Babaji: No. To learn this secret art you do not need to practice upon patients like your medical science. Once we know, we can directly cure everyone.

Doctor B (stunningly beautiful, common crush): Babaji, can you tell us how you treat a case of open head injury?

Babaji (with an gracefully sexy smile): Come beta, sit here, so you can hear me. We first hold some leaves hard pressed against the wounds to stop bleeding, then pray for the patient with some internal healing chants. We then call the relatives and explain them how futile and fragile life is, and ask them to accept fate. Usually they do. Some rare ones take such patients to hospitals. There too, some die and some survive. Those who survive mostly do because of the prayers. You can come to our place if you want to know how to treat all types of emergencies. We have even made some dead alive!© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Doctor C (Meritorious. That’s all.): Babaji, there are so many poor patients dying in so many government hospitals, in small villages, everywhere. There are so many hunger deaths too. How come you and your chelas are never seen working your magical powers for such poor and needy patients? In the same time that you visit a businessman, minister or appear in a TV interview, you could treat and cure hundreds with the power you claim to have.

Babaji (red): You will not understand, because you do not have faith. Next question.

Doctor B: Babaji, you and your drug company earn in multiple billions. You are a saint yourself, and do not have material aspirations. Then where does all this profit go? Are you secretly using it to help treat poor and downtrodden?

Babaji (drinks water): There are many charities we do, but one must not tell others what charity they do. We submit the reports to the government. I am getting late, beta, it is my prayer time.

Doctor A: Just one more question, Babaji.. it is said that you cure diseases like cancers, AIDS etc which have no medical cures. Is that true?

Babaji (winks one eye): If you ask me in front of media, I will say no. Because I do not like too much attention and fame. But if you come to our place, you will see the miracles that our ancient formulas and personally researched products can make. They are all FDA approved and safe. Millions have been cured. We treat everything!© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Babaji smiled proudly and got up.

As he walked in the lobby, many poor patients and their relatives who tried to touch his feet were pushed away by his security. Only pausing to answer questions by TV channels, posing holy, Babaji disappeared in his luxury car.

I went back to the room of the rich senior Minister to record his blood pressure. He was on the phone, talking to someone “Yes, yes, Babaji just confirmed his plan to buy another aeroplane. I have promised him that you will design the customized interiors for his new plane. Come over tomorrow”.

Then, as I recorded his notes, I politely asked the rich minister “Sir, why didn’t you go to Babaji first when you had chest pain?”

He replied what most Indian Politicians, Media personnel, and many Judicial experts feel: “You are too inexperienced about these things, Doctor”!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Please share unedited. Any resemblance to any human being or animal is deeply regretted and unintentional. Praying for better logic and reasoning in all human beings.

Snake! Snake!!

Snake! Snake!!

©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

She felt a sudden sharp pain on her hand, as she was cutting grass in their farm. She saw bleeding from her hand, she threw away the grass and looked carefully. The head of an angry snake with open mouth, fangs popping out terrified her at once. It was a Russel’s viper, a deadly venomous snake that causes shock, bleeding, and clots the blood inside the arteries.

She grabbed her cellphone and called her husband.

There is a superstition in rural India: that husband or wife, if bitten by a snake, should not see each other’s face for eight days, or one of them will die. Her relatives told her not to see her husband, even her husband was told so.

They unheeded the superstition. He tied a rope around her bitten hand, started his bike, she sat behind him, and they rode away to the nearest rural hospital about seven kilometres away. They had only a few minutes. In a short while she started feeling giddy and had a vomiting. They reached hospital just when she was about to collapse. Her whole left hand was swollen upto the shoulder and was turning blue-black. The face had started to swell too.

The doctor there rushed her to the intensive care unit, did not wait to waste time in paperwork or financial questions, and started emergency treatment. Knowing that people don’t carry money during such emergencies, he arranged for all the medicines himself. In a few hours, her blood pressure started to return to normal. The swelling onher hand increased, causing severe pain. For the next five days, the doctor struggled to counter every problem that popped up: it is extremely difficult to treat a patient who has bleeding and clotting together.

Science won, sitting on the shoulder of the logical and determined doctor. In seven days, Mandakini was discharged, with only a minor swelling on her hand still persistent.

In any big hospital in a metropolis, this would have cost her more than a few lakh rupees. However, a doctor practicing in a rural area, just like doctors working in many government hospitals, took it upon himself to save her life without caring about money at all. With minimal expenses, he saved her life. As Mandakini is under my treatment for Parkinsons Disease, she followed up today and told me this story in te tones of a typical farmer: as if it was just another trivial deviation from normalcy “That was a snake bite last month. I am okay now”.

While the big name doctors in big cities are well publicised and noticed by the media, thousands of the rural Indian doctors, who slog day and night saving thousands of lives every day usually remain neglected and away from limelight. There must be so many hundred snake bites happening every day, so many accidents, and so many doctors practicing in rural India must be saving them. But what’s so sensational about saving lives? Instead, if the poisonous news of doctors being beaten up by violent crowds and hospitals vandalised are shown, it gets huge TRPs! There’s no treatment for the poison spread by some politicians and media against the medical professionals..

A heartfelt, respectful salute to the thousands of medical heroes practising in rural India and government hospitals, who form the base of Indian medical profession.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

PS:

Awaiting the permission of the doctor mentioned above, from a rural hospital, to publish his name😊

Marathi version:

साप साप!

डॉ. राजस देशपांडे

शेतात गवत कापत असताना मंदाकिनीच्या हाताला एकदम काहीतरी टोचल्यासारखं वाटलं, म्हणून तिनं हातातील गवत फेकून समोरील झुडुपाकडे नीट पाहिलं. जबडा वासून त्यातील विषारी सुळे दाखविणारे ते रागीट फुरसे तिच्यासमोरच डोके बिळाबाहेर काढून बसले होते. रक्ताच्या गुठळ्या आणि रक्तस्त्राव करवून काही मिनिटातच मृत्यूच्या जबड्यात ढकलणाऱ्या त्या विषारी सापाला पाहून तिचे धाबे दणाणले. तिने तिच्या नवऱ्याला फोन लावला.

ग्रामीण भागात एक अंधश्रद्धा आहे. साप चावल्यास नवरा अथवा बायकोने आठ दिवस एकमेकांचे तोंड पाहू नये, नसता एकाला मृत्यू येतो. त्यांच्या नातेवाईकांनी त्यांना एकमेकांसमोर जाऊ नका असे सांगितले. पण मंदाकिनी आणि तिच्या नवऱ्याने तिकडे दुर्लक्ष करीत आधी हाताला कापड करकचून बांधले आणि दुचाकीवर स्वार होऊन ते दोघे आठ किलोमीटर वर असलेल्या ग्रामीण दवाखान्यात निघाले. काही अंतर गेल्यावर मंदाकिनीचा हात खांद्यापर्यंत सुजला, काळानिळा पडायला लागला. तिला चकरा येत होत्या. एक वांतीही झाली. कसेबसे ते दवाखान्यात पोचले, तेव्हा तिचे ब्लड प्रेशर कमी झालेले होते.

त्या ग्रामीण दवाखान्यातील डॉक्टरने तिला ताबडतोब तपासले. कुठल्याही कागदपत्री व्यवहारात वेळ ना घालविता त्यांनी तिला आय सी यू मध्ये घेतले आणि औषधोपचार सुरु केला. पैसे, बिल, आर्थिक परिस्थिती याचा विचार अथवा चर्चा करायला वेळच कुठे होता? अशी वेळ आल्यावर पैसे घ्यायला वेळ असतो कुणाकडे? डॉक्टरांनी त्यांच्याकडीलच सर्व आवश्य औषधे वापरली. काही तासांनी तिचे ब्लड प्रेशर नॉर्मल ला यायला लागले. पण तिचा हातावरची सूज मात्र वाढली, आणि तिला प्रचंड वेदना व्हायला लागल्या. पुढचे पाच दिवस तिची प्रकृती वरखाली होत राहिली आणि डॉक्टर येणाऱ्या प्रत्येक आपत्तीशी झुंजत राहिले. आठ दिवसांनी तिला डिस्चार्ज मिळाला. फक्त थोडी हातावरची सूज बाकी राहिली होती. काही हजार रुपये बिल झाले होते, ते त्यांनी आनंदाने भरले.

कुठल्याही मोठ्या शहरात, मोठ्या दवाखान्यात तिला याच ट्रीटमेंट साठी अनेक लाख रुपये मोजावे लागले असते. पण भारतातील एका लहानशा खेड्यातील एका डॉक्टरने स्वतःच सगळी औषधे वापरून तिचा जीव वाचविला. भारतातील ग्रामीण भागातील हजारो सरकारी आणि खाजगी डॉक्टर पैशाचा विचार ना करता अत्यंत कमी खर्चात हजारो रुग्णांचे जीव रोज वाचावीत असतात, पण त्याची दखल घायला वेळ आहे कुणाला?

पार्किन्सन’स च्या आजारासाठी मंदाकिनी देवकर माझ्याकडे ट्रेंटमेन्टला अनेक वर्षांपासून येतात. या वेळेला त्यांना उशीर झाल्याने मी त्यांना सहज विचारले, तेव्हा रोजचाच विषय असल्यासारखे त्या सहजपणे म्हणाल्या “काही नाही डॉक्टर साहेब, मागच्या महिन्यात साप चावला होता म्हणून उशीर झाला”! अजूनही सुजलेला हात त्यांनी मला दाखविला.

मोठ्या शहरातील मोठमोठे डॉक्टर अनेक वेळेला टीव्ही वर दिसतात, त्यांच्या बातम्या छापून येतात, त्यांना खूप प्रसिद्धीही मिळते. काही डॉक्टर तर प्रत्यक्षापेक्षा फक्त टीव्ही आणि पेपरातच खूप चांगले काम करीत असतात! पण दुर्गम, ग्रामीण, कठीण प्रांतात राहूनही माणुसकी जपून, अखंड मेहनत करून, पैशाचा विचार न करता अनेकानेक रुग्णांचे रोज जीव वाचविणाऱ्या डॉक्टरांचे नाव क्वचितच छापून येते. या देवमाणसांची दखल वैद्यकीय व्यवसायाविरुद्ध सतत गरळ ओकणारे आपले राजकारणी आणि मीडिया कधी घेणार? माणुसकीने सेवा करून लाखोंचा जीव वाचविणे यात सेंसेशनल ते काय? त्यापेक्षा एखाद्या डॉक्टरला वेडसर जमावाने केलेली मारहाण आणि तोडफोड दाखविली की जास्त लोक पाहतात! डॉक्टरांविरुद्ध विष पसरविणाऱ्या या सापाचा मात्र काहीच इलाज नाही!

वैद्यकीय व्यवसायाचा पाया भारतामध्ये ग्रामीण भागातच आहे. माणुसकीचे सर्वोच्च आदर्श डोळ्यासमोर ठेवून रात्रंदिवस खेडोपाडी झटणाऱ्या सर्व डॉक्टरांना आमचा सन्मानाचा सलाम!

डॉ. राजस देशपांडे

न्यूरॉलॉजिस्ट पुणे

काही कारणामुळे वरील डॉक्टरचे नाव येथे देऊ शकलो नाही. त्यांची परवानगी मिळताच ते लिहीनच. .

The Medical License to Kill

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The five year old girl stopped breathing. Her father shouted in a state beyond panic. With a fear of a death worse than his own, he choked upon his own shouting. It was about 4 AM. The dozing relatives of other patients in the casualty woke up startled.

The intern doctor Anu tried to insert a breathing tube in the child’s throat, but the right sized tube wasn’t available. Dr. Anu shouted at the nurse to wake up the medical officer on duty. She couldn’t: he was deep asleep, being drunk. The child started getting blue. The heartbeats became feeble. Another nurse ran upstairs, and literally dragged the junior doctor in the ICU to the casualty. He struggled and managed to insert the tube somehow, and with the breathing bag, artificial breathing was started. The child stayed unconscious, but the heart beats were heard well now. There were no beds in the ICU, so they managed her there itself, in the casualty.

Two hours later the medical officer woke up. Unclean and unkempt, stinking of alcohol and sweat and yet careless about it, he was usually seen roaming in the hospital with swollen red eyes, talking usually about the only three things so called “Men” talk about. In hating him, many diversely thinking junior doctors united. There were complaints about him: nurses, junior doctors and patients had all written to many authorities about his drunken demeanor, ill behavior, swearing and abusive language, and even a violent attitude: he was known to slap attendants, drivers, assistants, and throwing instruments in the operation theater. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Anu not only hated him, but was scared of him too. She hesitantly reported what had happened in the night. “We tried to wake you up Sir, but couldn’t” she said cautiously, just like all brave girls who cannot hide what they dislike. He laughed in the style of a famous ‘Manly’ hero of the times. “Such small things keep on happening in big hospitals. Don’t worry. If I wake up for every emergency at a government hospital, I will myself die. I am doing the duty for five medical officers alone. You must accept death as a part of your daily life. Don’t get emotionally involved in patients. Some will die, we can do nothing about it”. Then, without even visiting the child once, he left, as his duty hours were over. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The disgust and anger that flooded Dr. Anu came out in the form of tears. She went to the nurses room and sobbed. She had not dreamt of becoming a doctor like this: helpless and suppressed. The nursing Superintendent, a motherly lady, patted her. “It is good that he didn’t wake up at night. He doesn’t know even the simple procedures. He would have probably harmed the child more in that drunken state. The only thing you can do now is to quickly learn all the life saving procedures that you can, and then don’t be dependent upon anyone else to save lives”.

“I want to complain against him. How can a doctor sleep when a child is dying during his duty?” Dr. Anu asked.

The Nursing Super smiled in shame.

“My dear, who will you complain to? This drunkard is the son of a ruling minister. They own a private medical college themselves, many come to him to get medical seats there, so they have friends and defenders in almost all high offices. Whoever questions anything about him, faces not only the ire of his father’s political goons, but suffers at many other levels to. Do you think people don’t know his addictions and ill behavior? But when the government protects him, what can anyone else do?”.

Then, as Dr. Anu stared in vacuum, the Super told her one of the most beautiful pearls in medicine: “There are some bad doctors dear, but that’s where you come in. Your responsibility increases. Learn to be strong, learn to compensate for what others cannot do. Such sick doctors who pass out without learning, who come drunk to the hospital and mistreat patients are a curse to our profession. We can’t change them. The lesser number of patients they see, the better it is for everyone. You compensate for them by becoming better”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The day forever changed Dr. Anu. Providence, as always, had rewarded her for her efforts in saving the child’s life only a few hours ago.

The sad fact still remains: that some students are not trained well. Some do not have the capacity or wish to become good doctors while some are ‘pushed’ by money and power. These are the people who have learned the most deadly Indian trick: to find a political godfather who protects them from anything you do, Feed his wallet and ego, lick him all over, and then retain the ‘license to medically kill’. Please check out how many ministers and political bigwigs own medical colleges, and how many use these as ‘power channels’ to make undeserving doctors, and one can easily know where the problem lies. This by no means suggests that only the doctors from private colleges are bad, there indeed are ill behaved and drunkards among doctors passing out from govt. colleges too. The point is that they are protected by some. To first satisfy all vote banks, then collect the multicrore moolah for admissions and then create yet another channel of corruption: Eligibility test! This is a nightmare for the truly willing and deserving merit holders. About this aspect of the matter, no politician ever speaks. Who protects the Medical admission scamsters? Why do not our courts act suo moto, knowing that so many lives will be at risk with doctors produced via scams? © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. The saddest part is that many corporate hospitals look for such doctors who are also financially recklessly aggressive, and then make them compete with the good and ethical doctors.

Today on the occasion of Gandhi Jayanti, many “trumpet tongues” will be heard speaking through their hats about the Mahatma. Introspection and truth are the beginnings of even knowing the Mahatma. The criminal corruption networks which produce bad, ineligible doctors by the force of money and power must go! These are the very doctors who bring a bad name and a shame to our profession. Many a good things in the profession, saving a million lives every day and sacrifices made therein bt thousands of good docs all become a waste because of such few bad doctors. Let us all stand united in improving ourselves, giving up what’s not the part of a good doctor.

Jai Hind!

Mahatma Gandhi ki Jay!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Deadly ‘Vegetable’

The Deadly ‘Vegetable’

“How is my mother, Doctor?” The smiling politician, a tower of patience, surrounded by his impatient bouncer cronies, and a drooling doctor, asked me at the door of the critical care unit.

I examined the patient, a case of a large bleeding that had caused severe damage in the brain. Inputs were whispered in my ears by the cautious doctors of the unit. The poor lady had been treated by many excellent doctors in Mumbai and Delhi, as the family of that politico had that free facility. However, she had stopped the blood pressure medicines as some “Herbal Baba” had criticized them on National TV. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“She is conscious, but cannot understand or respond at all. Her heart is beating well, blood pressure is holding up, and her breathing is fine too. She can move her hands and legs, but it all appears meaningless movement. This may last for weeks or months, and in some cases, even permanently”.

The ‘doctor’ with that group authoritatively asked “That means she is a vegetable now?”.

“The correct word is ‘Vegetative’, the medical condition is called ‘Persistent Vegetative State’, and I cannot say as of now if this will be persistant. There are some chances of recovery” I replied with a carefully acquired masked face.

“Is there anything we can do anywhere in the world to make her brain normal again? I can take her to the best centers in the world” said the Politico. The drooling doc came forward again. His desperation to be significant was almost killing him. “Are there any medicines that can make her recover faster? We can afford anything” he asked.

I knew the exact words to reply him with.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“No Sir. Just as you cannot shorten the period of pregnancy, you cannot convert it to three months in the best of the hospitals , however rich you may be, the recovery of brain happens at its own speed. The medicines that can help her are already on”. This usually stops further discussion in that line, it did.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I went to the cafeteria to cool down. I couldn’t understand whether it was the tail-wagging doctor or the politico with ‘everything exists to serve me’ attitude that irritated me more. A cyclone of the big picture started rising in my mind.

The state of our “Government run” healthcare, is more or less the same: Vegetative. Big plans, big declarations, more investment, more land and buildings, more equipment, all surfaces, especially during elections. But the brain: good doctors in the system: is dead. No good healthcare system can be created or run by those appointed without merit, without quality. Thousands of huge set-ups declared and erected by the various governments are lying vacant, or serving far below their purpose because there are no good doctors/ technicians in most. The last battalion holding the flag of good healthcare: good medical teachers in medical college are on the verge of extinction. Best of the government-run hospitals and services are often reserved for those in power and their families. The shameless orders for “reserving ICU beds and ventilators, operation theaters etc.” for a patient known to a politician are a daily affair, they least care if someone else without an influence dies.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Appointments of drooling, medal-hungry shoelickers on various key medical posts has crippled the system. The real poor and deserving are thrown from one window to another to submit documents and applications to claim the benefits that they deserve.

The whole blame of a this deadly “Vegetable” healthcare is cunningly shifted upon those who refuse to work as ‘personal servants’ to the government, those who go into private practice, and private hospitals. Now almost all doctors complete their bonds, yet there is a gaping hole in the system that cannot retain specialists for long. Only the compromised, beginners, and failures stay for long in adverse, sycophancy based, low-cost environments. The very politicians who say “Don’t worry about money” when asking treatments for their own family, accuse the doctors of being “greedy”, when they leave govt. services.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The simple solution, the recovery of the brain, i.e induction and retaining of good, meritorious, non-shoe-licking and highly qualified specialists in the government-run healthcare departments and set-ups will probably change this scenario. But this looks impossible, now that even many doctor’s organisations have started losing their autonomy, self respect, to fall in line with the glorified slogans and to lick the bottoms of those who run such failed healthcare systems. The addictions to blow up any tiny good news, modify data to appease masses, hide the blaring failures, deficits and corruption in the healthcare have become a norm, and even our society seems to be ecstatically happy to just hear loud speeches of big plans rather than facing ground realities.

Indian Healthcare run by various governments, except for very few honourable exceptions, has become a brainless “Persistent Vegetative Healthcare System”. A ‘deadly vegetable’, for the understanding of the drooling docs. Unless someone sane and responsible in healthcare department acts quickly, we will lose this healthcare battle.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

PS: During the writing of this article I received over 20 phone calls from patients, and 12 of them dropped, cut, hanged. This is our technical progress. Before we send men in space, can we deal with this?

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Illegal Heroes

Illegal Heroes

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I was at the disco last night. We danced a lot, I exceeded my ususal capacity of 180 ml alcohol, and had two or three large pegs extra. I must have smoked a little extra too yesterday, I was too stressed”’ said the 30 year old man, who was admitted one afternoon in an unconscious state. He had had a fit in the office that morning. The MRI had shown a large bleeding / haemorrhage in his brain. This illness, cerebral venous thrombosis, is quite common among those who are dehydrated, those who have untreated sinus infections, and among those who take contraceptive pills. If not treated in time, it can quickly cause brain swelling that may lead to disability or death.

Over next three days he gradually improved. Brain swelling started to recede, and he asked for a discharge. Faster and to-the-point care had improved his condition, thanks to modern healthcare. A psychiatrist had already counselled him about deaddiction. When we sent his file for discharge, his mediclaim insurance was declined because this illness was related to alcohol consumption. Immediately, his tone became bitter, his colleagues dissected the case papers asking for justification of each test, each medicine, and also why he was even hospitalised. Gratefulness is often waived off by doctors as a lost quality among saved patients, but it is difficult to tolerate arrogant distrust. We firmly explained him what was done and why.

“We will pay your bills, we will claim the insurance later, but you must change your notes, remove alcohol and smoking from his papers” said the patient’s brother.

“We cannot change the case notes, it is illegal. Also, we have already sent copies to the insurance company, a standard procedure. You are not obliging us by paying the bills, we have provided healthcare service that saved your brother, who was about to die due to alcohol consumption” we replied.

Within an hour, a local politician, an elected member, who came in his Range Rover with his personal armed bodyguards and human doggies, started his anti-medical show that had drama, emotion, tragedy, threats of violence and revenge and everything else but truth and honesty. He spoiled the day for everyone involved, caused disruption of hospital work for over six hours, and left with a threat of “burning down the hospital soon”. When our PRO asked him whether he wants to pay the bills of this patient to help them, his reaction was the hallmark of a true politician: change of topic to how the medical profession has lost its reputation.

Almost every doctor, every hospital in India is being threatened and pressurised by our own lawmakers at almost all levels into changing facts, writing false details, extorting concessions for the rich and poor both, only to increase their own vote banks at the cost of the healthcare industry. Most politicians, many government officers instead of financially helping the patient, ask the hospital to treat free or cut off bills.

How legal is this authority? If a politician writes to a court or lawyer or hotel or an Airline to waive off fees/ bills of a poor person, will they ever? Why are the doctor’s services and hospitals taken for granted here? How sad that such illegal means make pseudo-Heroes in our country!

Everytime the politicos pressurise a doctor or a hospital to treat their paying cronies free or concessional, some other truly deserving patient suffers because hospitals, small or big, can only do a certain level of charity. How fair is it to deny healthcare to the deserving poor just because they cannot flex a political muscle? This phenomenon is ruining the whole purpose and concept of charity healthcare measures all over India.

Aren’t these elected members responsible for the disgusting state of the civil and government hospitals and healthcare all over India? That is their domain of authority. This is like messing up one’s own home and family and requesting the one with a better home and family to pay and comply for one’s own needs. How shameful is it for the elected members of different parties to have to send people, especially the poor, to the private hospitals, because their own set-ups are failing perpetually? Empty posts, inadequate staff, poorest funding, non-availability of quality technology and medicines and red tapism have created massive monuments of the healthcare failures of different lawmakers all over India, and these are the very people who come threatening to the hospitals of burning them down! Hear this, any Milord?

If the honourable Prime Minister and Health Minister invite feedback from every patient leaving every civil and government hospital, the gravity of this situation will be understood better. Many repairs “at home” are required before “the neighbours home” is raided. We as doctors and hospitals must together request these authorities and offices to protect us from such daily insults, extortions and exploitation.

The very next day, an old man, a retired Indian Military officer, was expressing himself in the OPD with tears in his eyes: “Ye desh ka kuchh nahi honewala (This country cannot progress). People here, at all levels, want corruption, legal escapes to save money, and will elect anyone who throws them petty bits. Votes are bought for such favours as alcohol, gifts and cash. Sycophants rule, criminals are seen hand in hand with some rulers. Who do you think will get elected with such means, saints? You can guess what progress we expect if the lawmakers are first in line to break laws..”

There was nothing more sinister I heard that day. I am worried about the healthcare in my beloved country. God save the future generations from such illegal heroes!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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Humanity Face / Off

Humanity Face / Off

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Your father in ICU has probably had bleeding in the brain. We need an urgent CT scan” I told the son waiting outside. The old man was admitted late in the evening, although he had had severe headache and weakness on one side since that morning. His son had just returned after a “one-hour” quick meal. Besides flaunting many brands upon his person, he had already told me that he was the vice president of a well known software company.

“Yes, doctor, I am just waiting for the approval from his insurance company.” The son replied. For doctors running in and out of critical care units, the “Cool Calm” of such educated relatives is beyond understanding. Most insurance companies work office hours, approvals come at their own speed, they are least concerned about the patient outcome.

Everything was being kept on hold. Hospitals do not want to proceed with costly tests and investigations unless they are life saving, because most relatives flatly refuse to pay if the insurance company denies approval. The doctor suffers a double blow emotionally: because things are delayed and also because relatives blame only the doctor.

“This is urgent. Please consider making the payments and filing for reimbursement later, so we can make decisions faster” I told him.

“If it is urgent, why don’t you get it done? I will not pay, his insurance company will have to approve” said the son.

I thought about the patient. In the waiting room, the patient’s wife, an old lady, kept praying. I wished she was also praying for a better son. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. I requested the hospital authorities, and as always, they agreed to help. A CT scan was done, it did show bleeding in the old man’s brain. When informed, the son winced. “How many more days in the hospital?” he asked.

“Usually it takes a week for such patients to stabilize” we told him.

“Can you discharge him? I will arrange for some nurse to give him treatment at home. Just write the medicines he needs” he said. His mother, hesitant, asked “Is it necessary to treat here, doctor? If his health is in danger, we will stay”.

Angrily, the son cut off his mom. “No, mom, this has become a business. They will extend stay even if it is not necessary. If it is only medicines, why does he need to be in hospital?” he asked me.

“Because such patients often develop excess swelling in the brain, or other complications. They can also develop convulsions or lapse into a coma if swelling worsens” I unchained my patience.

“Do you guarantee that those complications will not happen if we keep him here?” he asked.

“No. Only that he can be managed in time, if any complication develops” I replied. There’s no word called “Guarantee” in the medical dictionary. It is only a quack’s favorite trick. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Then why stay here? I have a nursing home nearby, we will go there if there is any problem” the son said, turning his back upon his mother.

The open-secret was revealed soon: the insurance cover that he had bought for his father was minimal, it was over now, and he didn’t want to pay anything from the pocket.

I explained the patient’s wife about the medicines and care, updated her with the warning signs of danger in such cases. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Doc, I am alone at home with my husband all day. My son and daughter in law both work and return late. What will I do in case there is an emergency?” I gave her some contacts near her home, ambulance numbers and doctors.

“Is it okay if she calls you daily to inform the patient’s condition and ask what medicines are to be given in case of an emergency?” the son asked.

“Sorry, we cannot manage patients on phone” I replied.

“Sorry doc, don’t take this personally, but there’s no humanity left in this profession now a days. No one wants to help even an old patient” he commented. I didn’t reply.

They returned in three days, the patient comatose. The brain swelling had increased to dangerous levels. Patient was operated in emergency, saved with a great effort. The son had to foot the whole bill this time. “This is quite unfortunate” he kept saying, reminding me to keep expenses “lowest” because he was paying from his pocket. Finally came the day of discharge. Knowing the questions, I explained them the medicines on discharge.

“Doc, he is a senior citizen. You must give us discounts” said the son.

“Sorry, the hospital decides the billing. My charges are already minimal”. I told him the truth.

“Just as I said, there’s no humanity left” he looked at his mother and said. It was now the time to chain my patience. I knew the right reply this time.

“Yes, Sir”, I said “ I agree. Humanity is indeed on a decline, but more in your family than in my profession”

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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Victim? Dr. Reena’s story

Victim? Dr. Reena’s story

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I am being victimised, Sir! I have tried to do my best, but my senior has developed some prejudice against me and has started to find faults with everything I do. I don’t know, I feel suicidal sometimes” the resident doctor Reena said, breaking down. She was into medicine, one of the toughest branches for post graduation.

This was a difficult situation. It is very well known that some seniors and teachers do take advantage of the situation to mistreat and misuse their students or subordinates. It is also well known that both men and women in every profession, including medicine, have strong gender biases and favouritism. Sycophancy is so essential in India, that I wonder sometimes whether an official bachelors / masters “Chamchagiri” (sycophancy) certificate will be necessary before people are selected for their jobs.

I gave her some instructions to ignore words and minor incidences, and concentrate on doing her official duties with concentration. I also counselled her about how to handle egoistic, arrogant seniors. She was supposed to follow up next week.

That weekend, I met a colleague of mine, Dr. Anand, in the coffee shop. There was no OPD, it being a Sunday. We sipped coffee in the canteen, telling each other funny stuff about other colleagues. Medicine provides great entertainment too, in the form of various types of doctors, and we start with ourselves usually. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Just then, another doctor came in, Dr. Anand invited him to join us and introduced me to him as Dr. Ashwin. “Ashwin was my junior resident” said Dr. Anand, “and one of the most brilliant students. He’s a wiz. He wanted to work for the downtrodden, so he has continued to work at the govt. hospital after his MD. Most dedicated! That’s why most girls around us liked him and we all envied him”. It is rare for Anand to praise someone this much, I was quite impressed and happy.

But Dr. Ashwin appeared quite disturbed. Dr. Anand asked him if he was ok.

“No, yaar. I am facing a big problem. There’s this girl in my unit, who has made my life hell. She has filed complaints against me to the dean, my name is all mud”.

“Complain against you?” said Dr. Anand, truly surprised “Even your wife never complains against you”. He was trying to lighten up the mood. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Yes. But you know how heavy our PG duties are. This girl, besides being lousy and careless, refuses to finish her work, constantly looks at the watch and doesn’t want to be corrected. How can we tolerate carelessness in medicine? There are patients in the ICU and this lady keeps busy with her cellphone! I gave her a warning that I will complain, but instead, she went ahead and complained that I was harassing her, implying serious charges. Fortunately my wife and the dean understand the situation, but you know some people in the campus would rather see me down. I don’t know what to do. I am thinking of resigning”.

“Can you share her name?” I asked, cautiously. The guess was correct. It indeed was Dr. Reena.

“I tried to talk to her, I requested her to call her parents. Apparently she has grown up as a pampered child, her parents refuse to even think that she can be wrong. They started complaining that their daughter didn’t get enough rest and good food, that she has always been a super genius kid and how many a times even her teachers could not understand her genius”.

Now the picture was clear, with the other side of the story revealed.

There indeed is, nowadays, a rampant tendency to play a victim, especially to cover up for one’s own failures, inadequacies and lethargy. Children who allege that their failures are either because of their parents being over disciplined or completely negligent, boys who hate their parents and refuse accepting that they fell short of hard work and dedication because of too many diversions, girls who sometimes lie about “sexual abuse”, and employees who underperform only to blame it upon a racist / pervert / prejudiced boss are classical examples when stress factors are analysed well. There was one girl who alleged abuse by her step father, just to tell me minutes later that it was probably her imagination, and that she didn’t know if it was a dream! It was her mother who then revealed that the girl had always used that ‘dream reality’ sequence whenever she wanted something and was refused. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

There indeed is rampant true victimisation in all these areas, and one must always stand by the victim. But the overflow of sympathy that drowns sense and reasoning (thank you, media and some movies!) must always be avoided. Differentiating ‘true’ and ‘pseudo’ victims is never easy especially because there always will be the social biases. Most Indian men unfortunately truly look down upon women, most seniors think that juniors cannot be more intelligent, parents often mentally overpower logic when dealing with kids etc.. Still there indeed are many who hide behind the “victim” tag, just to take advantage of the sympathy and protection it offers, using it to hide their own negative side. A lot of people use suicide threats, false complaints and other pressure tactics to emotionally exploit and threaten others. When this happens in a workplace, it poisons the whole atmosphere. There is indeed no protection for the true victims here.

Next time when Dr. Reena came to visit, I told her how I chanced upon the doctor who was “troubling” her. As expected, she cried and defended her stance, but after some gentle coaxing, when I reiterated that the actual problem must be dealt with, she agreed to have a meeting with Dr. Ashwin. I called in a female counsellor too, and in a few meetings, we could sort out the issue.

Medical career is, difficult, it is important to do every single thing perfectly and with utmost care and concentration. No one else can ever replace the life-saving responsibility of a doctor on duty. A doctor who isn’t fully attentive to everything about every patient can be dangerous.

Dr. Reena agreed to go by the duties allotted and improve her performance, while Dr. Ashwin reassured her that he had nothing personal against her, that she could always compare her duties and performance with her other batchmates. He also told her that now onwards he will mind his words better. She withdrew the complaint.

Dedicated to those such who have had this horrible experience.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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