Category Archives: Satire

Lost and Saved Life: The Indian Puzzle

Mumbai Diary-2

Lost and Saved Life: The Indian Puzzle

© DR. RAJAS DESHPANDE

He had a sudden, severe chest pain, so he told his office-colleague so. The colleague first called his wife and alerted her “Bhabhiji please don’t panic, I am taking your husband to this hospital, please reach there as soon as possible and give me a call once you reach”.

The cab driver grasped the situation at once and drove as fast as he could. He prayed in his heart. Just a kilometre before the hospital, there was a huge mob blocking the road. A great leader was shouting aloud about his pride for his religion and patriotism, least aware that they were all blocking many children and mothers trying to reach home, patients and doctors trying to reach hospitals. The bought crowd was eagerly listening to the violence provoking words of this rich politician, also a convict and suspect in many crimes, There was less audience at the real places of God’s worship nowadays than at political speeches giving religious sermons, mixing them with the love for one’s nation!

The cabbie honked. Two monstrous looking goons peeped in his window and started abusing him insanely, least aware about the women and children around. The cabbie was abused first for his profession, then his language, and the state he had come from, threatened to be burnt alive along with family if he honked again when the ‘great’ leader was speaking.©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The cabbie begged with folded hands: “Sirji forgive me, I accept my mistakes, but there’s a patient on the back seat. He looks serious, we must reach the hospital as quickly as possible. For god sake, let us go”.

One of the goons opened the back door and asked this patient his name. After he saw the chest-clutching patient almost gasping, they made way and allowed the cab to leave.

Now the patient had started profusely sweating. His face had turned bluish, and he was making efforts to even breathe well. He could not speak. As they entered the hospital, the patient’s friend noticed that the patient had stopped breathing.

He shouted in panic. The wardboy and the cabbie lifted the patient on a stretcher and ran towards the emergency room.

A frantic, fearful sound of thuds of the last heart massage was now heard, along with breaking of many glass syringes and instructions shouted by doctors and nurses. A tube to restart breathing artificially was inserted in the patient’s throat. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

There was no one to cry for this patient there. His friend was sitting outside the emergency room, clutching his head, stunned. The cab driver had left without taking his bills. Religion and Patriotism stayed outside the hospital campus, they couldn’t save lives.

A young and dynamic heart specialist who had just returned to India saw the ECG of this patient. An urgent action was required. He called upon the patient’s friend to sign a consent.

The friend hesitated and refused. There were a lot of news every day everywhere about doctors fleecing patients, earning money by misuse of stents and surgeries. The friend no more believed in what this doctor told him.

“I don’t know. Wait till his wife arrives, she will be here in an hour”.

Every millisecond was crucial. The dynamic heart specialist called his medical director. “Sir, I take full responsibility for this case, he needs immediate action”. The medical director cautioned him: “Doc, if anything goes wrong, if the outcome is not good, they will file a murder case against you. Why do you want to risk your bright career at the very beginning? You must also think that you don’t have any political godfather”.

The doctor rushed the patient to the cathlab and inserted three stents in the patient’s heart, that resumed the normal blood flow to heart. The patient’s heart function returned to near normal in an hour. By the time the patient’s wife arrived, the lost life of the patient was brought back. The next day, the patient could breathe well by himself.

Now the most crucial puzzles: which state did the cabbie come from? What was the caste of this patient? To what country did the helpful friend belong? Why didn’t they go to the government hospitals run by those who criticise private doctors and hospitals? And lastly, what was the religion of the doctor who saved this patient risking his own life and career?

Any sane person with an ounce of humanity in his heart won’t ask these stupid questions. But some Indian leaders and their followers do. And it is very sad and unfortunate that the answers to these questions cannot be openly revealed in my beloved India.

©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Neurologist

Mumbai/ Pune

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Doughnuts, Laddoo, Anyone?

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He was so cute and plump as a child, that everyone started calling him “Laddoo”. Soon this became his name. His parents were both hyper-educated, and both owned google browsers, so they studied about parenthood in-depth every day, and decided to provide Laddoo with the best parents and upbringing. They had many fights about how to do it right, but they took care that they never ever fought or argued in presence of Laddoo. They never raised their voice in front of him. Laddoo therefore grew up thinking that any arguments, disagreements or raising of voice was so uncivil and wrong. In a calm, disciplined home, he was being given the best of parenthood as suggested by the best parenting websites in the world.

Laddoo’s parents took care that he could only eat the most fresh and clean, organic food. Laddoo was proud that he did not eat garbage like other children of his age. He often envied those who could eat spicy, oily roadside food, especially the panipuri, kachori etc., but he remembered what his mom-dad had told him about the bacteria and viruses in such dirty food. So he never ate anything like that, but he started developing anger towards those indisciplined kids who could eat and digest anything they wanted. In the midst of beautiful, clean plenty, Laddoo started growing up resentful of everything around him. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. At home though, Laddoo was always a prince. To encourage free thinking, his parents had decided never to shout at him or punish him. They chose only logical, scientific, calm explanations when he was wrong. Once a maid-servant who was cleaning their home shouted sarcastically at Laddoo: “You call yourself a grown up, can’t you keep your clothes in a little order?” Laddoo’s mom was shocked, she fired the maid immediately. “Such ignorant, stupid illiterates! These slumdwellers have no idea how to raise children!” she commented, patting Laddoo on his head.

“You are stupid, Mom, you and Dad both!” Laddoo shouted, “Why do you stay in India with such people around?” His mom was so thrilled to hear this, that she immediately WhatsApped Laddoo’s words to her friends’ group, adding “Laddoo has become so mature now, he’s speaking exactly what I think sometimes. I am so proud!”. Laddoo was pampered more. All that he wanted was being made available. If he did not get what he wanted, he would throw a tantrum, accuse his parents of cruelty, and write about his parents in his famous blog “Parents and Children’s Freedom”. He had many followers. His parents oozed with pride when they referred to their Laddoo as a “Child Celebrity Author”. His proficiency with cellphones and gadgets was their pet boast.

The thoughts that “I can be wrong, someone else can be better than me, someone else can grasp better, be more intelligent or successful” never crossed Laddoo’s mind. “What I think must be the final word” became his perpetual attitude. If at all anyone was successful in proving his mistake, Laddoo would immediately state how some fault of his parents, teachers or friends led him to commit that mistake. He freely used words that scared elders: abuse, violence, childhood trauma etc. This would usually hush up the matter, and Laddoo always kept on convincing himself and others that everything good that happened in his life was solely due to his own heroic efforts whereas everything bad that happened was the fault of someone else. His parents did not want to ever shake his self-confidence, so they never made an effort to correct him.

Once Laddoo spoke arrogantly and then argued rudely with his class teacher. She was so upset, that she scolded him in front of the class, called him stupid, and gave him a punishment of standing for an hour till the class was over. After returning home that day, Laddoo complained of severe pain in both legs and giddiness. He was taken to the best child specialist, then a neurologist. “There’s nothing major, please take him to a counsellor” they were told. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande.

“Indian doctors really cannot understand a thing” said Laddoo’s father, and sent his reports to Laddoo’s aunt in the USA. The experts there commented that the child may have suffered a mental trauma due to the scolding and punishment by his teacher. Laddoo’s parents immediately filed a police case, wrote blogs against the school and the teacher, and then also complained to the school about the teacher with threats of legal prosecution. It was only after the teacher and the school apologised to Laddoo, that the cases were withdrawn, and his pain and giddiness improved. No teacher ever scolded Laddoo throughout his career thereafter.

Now Laddoo is heading a major company in California. His useless, old parents live in an old-age home, pretending to be happy. They believe that their beloved Laddoo does not see them regularly because of their own parenting faults. They cannot express this to others, they just tell people “He is extremely busy”. Laddoos parents also truly believe that his success in grabbing a great job is the highest achievement of their life.

Laddoo does not have any friends. He only has drink-n-game partners in luxurious clubs. His first wife left him long ago (“She was ridiculously orthodox, she wanted to grow up kids and all”). His second wife owns a company in Washington DC, they meet twice a year. Both of them tell people how they are victims of childhood traumas., especially when they fail competing with those “unruly, ridiculously happy” colleagues. They have decided never to have children so as to compensate for their childhood traumas, bullying by friends, teachers and parents etc. “We cannot afford time for such traditional lives” they mutually agree. They believe, understand and cover each-other’s lies so effectively, that they find it difficult to grasp why others around them cannot accept those.

Laddoo does not like anyone arguing, asking him questions. “Geniuses like me do not owe an explanation to anyone” he says, often freely quoting the likes of Newton, Einstein and Steve Jobs. No one really wants to interact with him now a days. Just as people avoid the spoiled brats of rich fathers, knowing that they are beyond any resurrection, they avoid Laddoo too. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande.

“Thay are all jealous about me, my genius, my success” Laddoo thinks. His wife agrees. Both of them spend their time at home and work blaming the whole world, showing people down, being bitter to the happy ones, and repeating the stories of how they suffered in the past, how they struggled through those imaginary problems and how heroic they have been to reach where they are now. They compliment each other like the two halves of a doughnut.

I meet such Laddoos and doughnuts (men and women) everywhere now a days. They are frequent among Doctors, Patients, Engineers, Lawyers, Businessmen etc., but also very common in big offices, major posts in the governments and managements, professors, judicial offices, ministers and even among rulers.

Do you meet any?

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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Doctor Arrested. Patient Died. Who’s Guilty?

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Doctor arrested. Patient died due to a wrong surgery”.

The black headline was shining. There was a file photo of the accused doctor, and angry, crying relatives. Sad and angry, I read through the news that did not affect me directly, yet knowing that every patient who read that news will go further away from their doctor. The already delicate and dying bond will die a little more.

Is it enough to punish this doctor?

Who all is guilty here?

The parents who forced him to become a doctor because they couldn’t?

The corrupt educational boards which allowed leaking papers and increasing marks so the student could get a medical admission? (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The politicians who made it possible for even the undeserving, low-aptitude students (which has nothing to do with one’s caste or religion: it’s more to do with money and power) to become doctors and play with patient’s lives?

The governments who allowed the “Medical Business” by establishment of substandard medical colleges owned by the rich and powerful, to sell medical degrees? The managements of such substandard institutes who chose the “low”quality teachers who agreed to work at low salaries and tolerate all humiliation? The teachers who didn’t care how their student was trained? (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The medical councils which ignored the ‘temporary’arrangements made by such substandard institutes to just ‘Pass the Inspection’, never providing students with adequate education or experience?

The medical policy makers who made theoretical, mcq-type education more important than clinical training?

The offices of law which ignored the repeated applications and complaints of good students from such institutions about incompleteness of educational facilities?

The Universities that allow ‘manipulation’ of medical exam passing under influence of money or power?

Or the politics of allowing cross-specialty practice without adequate training, the ‘jump-over to any pathy’ decisions to please vote banks?

Or the corporate hospitals who prefer such “substandard” doctors because they can work at lowest payments? Aggressive and “market oriented” junior doctors are preferred by many commercial-headed hospitals over those with best academics and clinical knowledge. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

It is indeed a reality that some doctors cannot speak a straight sentence, some cannot spell medicine names correctly, some treat even what is not their qualification skill, and some substitute knowledge with style, overconfidence and sweet talking. At various stages in their career, there are teachers who have tried to correct them, but in these unfortunate times of “pleasing one and all” including students, it is quite difficult to ‘mentally’ train a doctor to be good and perfect.

If only the doctor mentioned above is punished, leaving all others above without correction, then it will be a classic example of example of medical negligence and injustice. It will be like treating only the heart attack without treating the blood pressure and diabetes which cause that heart attack. We know the outcome in such cases.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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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

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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.

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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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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Can Anyone Solve The Mystery of Atmaram’s Courtroom Death?

Can Anyone Solve The Mystery of Atmaram’s Courtroom Death?

©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A hungry poor man named Atmaram went to a big hotel, had a nice big meal, and told he had no money to pay. He was beaten up and handed over to the police. He was released after a warning and a slap.

Next day he filled up petrol in his bike, and said he couldn’t pay. He was again beaten up, handed over to the police. Then he went to the medical shop, bought medicines and mineral water, ate the medicine, drank water from the bottle, and again said he couldn’t pay. He was now jailed for a week.

Next week his house was damaged by heavy rains, so he went and requested to be allowed to sleep in the house of the chief minister. He was arrested again, thrashed up.

As angry Atmaram shouted at the police, he was beaten up by them, another crime was added to his offences. In the court, Atmaram insulted the lawyers and judges and accused them of accepting bribes and charging too much. The judge punished him extra for his behaviour. Atmaram was angry and threw his shoe at the judge. His punishment was extended.

“You must respect the authority “ the court said.

“But I am poor, I need free food and petrol and medicines. I need sympathy too” Atmaram argued.

“You should have begged and applied for favours and eaten in places that provide charity meals. Petrol, however essential, has the same price for everyone. You can sleep on the footpath, and above all, you are not allowed rudeness and violence because you are poor and needy” The court said.©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

When released from the jail, Atmaram drank a lot of desi alcohol, had an accident and fractured many bones. He went to the best private hospital, got operated and refused to pay his bills that crossed one lac rupees. When the hospital insisted, the operating doctors were beaten up by Atmaran’s relatives, the hospital was vandalised, the police arrested the doctor who saved Atmaram’s life, the government closed down the hospital, while the media and the society kept villainising the entire medical profession.

The headlines next day reported the sympathy expressed uniformly by wag addicted tongues: some said the entire profession was tainted, some blamed the greed of the doctors, even some doctors desperate for attention shed crocodile tears about the ethics in this profession. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

In the courtroom, during the trial, Atmaram sat facing the doctor, still heavily bandaged.

The hon’ble judge, kind but surrounded by security, told the doctor accused of negligence and malpractice in the court: “You as a doctor carry more responsibility for ethical behaviour upon your shoulders. You should never turn away the poor”.

The doctor, defending himself, asked “but Milord, doesn’t our constitution insist on equality? Why do you yourself or ministers get security but not the doctor? Why isn’t everyone supposed to stick to ethics in every profession including politics, police and judiciary? Why are others exempt? How do you explain beating up of doctors while also saying that the society treated them like gods?”.

There were no answers. The kind court asked if the doctor had to say anything else in his own defence.

The doctor said

“Yes Milord, but the real answers will hurt:

Jealousy against medical professionals across society and many other professions is a reality. Why else will anyone who couldn’t qualify to become a doctor try and teach the qualified doctors what they should do?”©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“A culture of exploitation of non-votebank groups

and a complete failure of government healthcare with no one accepting responsibility is well known to everyone, but even judges have no courage to suo motu question this and correct it, even when they see the poor dying”. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“In a country with never ending poverty, how much free can a healthcare facility provide? For how long? This is already forcing closure of hospitals and exodus of good doctors out of the country.”©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Milord, can you assure that every doctor will get his/ her fees as per his service to every patient, and if the patient can’t pay, that much charge will be exempted from the income tax of that doctor? How else do you except a doctor to meet his needs and dreams? Just because there are millions of poor patients, is the doctor’s life and hard work taken for granted? If there has to be financial sacrifice, why not have everyone contribute to it by creating a national health tax fund for treatment of poor patients? Why healthcare is subsidised only at the cost of a doctor?”

Just at this point, Atmaram, who sat in front of the judge, collapsed unconscious, almost blue black.

The shocked judge requested the doctor to examine him.

“He is no more” said the doctor.

“What could have happened ?” asked the kind but sweating judge.

The doctor told the court about three possible reasons. Two of them were scientific and medical: a sudden cardiac event or a large blood clot in the lungs common after fractures and trauma.

The third non-medical, unscientific cause made the Judge seriously ponder.©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Will this court be now closed down, Milord? Will your efficiency be questioned, will you allow the relatives to attack you and understand their sad situation at the cost of your murder?”

“I understand what you mean” said the kind judge.

Needless to say, the doctor was released without a blame.

Can anyone please solve the mystery of the third non medical, unscientific possible cause of Atmaram’s death?

(C) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Changing Blood Group

The Changing Blood Group

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“He is sinking” shouted Dr. Siya.

The casualty registrar rushed to the bed, checked the vitals. Pulse very fast. Blood Pressure very low. Lips and nails white, hands and feet cold. The young man, unconscious, was on the verge of death.

“He must be bleeding inside. Get an urgent sonography of his abdomen”said the registrar to Dr. Siya, and call the blood bank. He will need at least two units of blood urgently”.

It was Dr. Siya’s first week into internship, she was thrilled with the idea of actually saving lives. At the young age of 22, she was witnessing death almost every other day. Along with that she was amazed to see the darkest sides of human nature: the potential of humans to hurt each other: via rapes, accidents, murders, fights. She had decided to not let this affect her attitude, and to continue to try and save every life she could.

That late night, this young man of about her own age was brought in unconscious by someone, who had just dropped the patient in the casualty and left without leaving any identity of himself. “I found him lying unconscious on the road. I don’t know anything else about him. I am just doing my duty, I have a train to catch”said the stranger and left. The patient was reeking of alcohol. He had a visible head injury. A quick CT scan had revealed minimal bleeding due to a small skull fracture. He also had had bleeding from wounds from his hands and legs, they were sutured. The patient had no identity marks, wallet or cellphone. The policy of the hospital was to provide basic treatment and shift the patient to the government hospital. The police station was already informed. Treatment was started.

Dr. Siya requested two units of blood. The blood bank called. They had only one unit of the blood for his blood group. The registrar had the same blood group, and like many doctors working in the emergency departments, he went down to donate blood.

It was nearly midnight. The fate of the life of a young man depended upon what the junior doctor did just then. There was no one to sign any consents, the protocol was to inform the hospital’s medical director and obtain consent for emergency transfusion or procedure. Dr. Siya finished the formalities, obtained the permission, and started the transfusion. If the patient had reacted or something went wrong now, they all feared, there will be a havoc in the media: that they had let an unknown patient die because they wanted money!

Dr. Siya kept on managing the show. The angry and disturbed relatives of other critical patients kept on taunting her, speaking rude and reluctant to complete simple formalities and paperwork.

The sonography was thankfully normal.

Just as the first unit of blood was over, the patient became conscious, and revealed his name. He was quite shaken with the surrounding, but told in broken sentences about his friend’s number and address. He revealed that while returning from a party, his bike was interrupted by a bunch of goons, he had fallen down, they hit him upon the head and left with all this belongings.

The friend was called, and came in. He revealed that the patient was used to smoking weed and drinking alcohol in huge quantities. They were staying in the hostel of a famous college.

The second blood unit was started, and in a short while the patient threw a convulsion. He was immediately given injectables for controlling the convulsions, he slept off with the effect.

His parents arrived early next morning.. The shocked mother was consoled and explained about the situation by Dr. Siya. The elderly father, like all fathers, equally shocked but being a father unable to cry, kept mum, just holding hands of the boy.

When the patient woke up again, the father came to Dr. Siya, and touched her feet. Too embarrased, she told him that the registrar had donated blood for the patient. The father went and thanked the registrar, again trying to touch his feet.

As Dr. Siya had finished her night duty, she prepared to leave. “Beta, Will you come soon please?”asked the tearful mother to her. “Yes Auntie, I will be back soon. Don’t worry, he is ok now”she reassured and left.

On her way back her genius young mind tried to look at the situation sitting upon her shoulder, the little third person that resides within each one who has a conscience. That booze and weed was easily available to youngsters in almost all Indian hostels, that even educated people rode bikes without helmet, that crimes were happening almost everywhere that injured and killed people, that law and order was a laughable term in many parts ofthe country, that there was no government mechanism in place to provide emergency medical / paramedic support ambulances to raod / traffic accident victims: which one is the most responsible cause, when patients like these died? Who is responsible?

She reached home, told her proud parents what had happened, that she had helped save a life. Her mother folded her hands towards the sky, said “God, let my daughter save many lives everday”.

While having the breakfast, her father turned on the TV. A famous but ill educated political leader, in his mind-and-other- organs blowing speech in Karnataka, was explaining the illiterate public how all Indian doctors charged in excess, how they were only after money, how everyone except himself was the enemy of the millions of patients surviving from critical heart attacks, accidents, strokes and other diseases. All patients getting better all over te country was only thanks to himself and his government!

Dr. Siya’s father laughed bitterly. “Next time you need blood for any poor or unknown patient, call him” he said.

Dr. Siya replied, laughing “That kind of ëver changing blood group doesn’t match anyone, it is useless for any patient, Papa”.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Zen Of a Doctor: An attempt of honest meditation

The Zen Of a Doctor
An attempt of honest meditation
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I am now tired, mentally fatigued, I want to recover to joy. I do not want to lie to myself.

I love treating patients, resolving their health problems. I love the feeling of their recovery. I love the gratitude that comes my way. I am proud of this ability to be compassionate, to harbor empathy and to understand and fight suffering of another human being. I am proud, that money is not on the top of my priority lists. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

But now I am tired of the whining: not the whining of suffering, for that is mine to destroy happily, but the whining by choice of adopting an extremely stressful, dirty, unclean, unhealthy lifestyle, not preparing to change, not preparing to pay for health, and then blaming it all upon a doctor. Women openly suppressed by husbands and large families, children tortured by parent’s whims, men exploited by their own desires and careers, and an orthodox, superstitious society where the most literate and educated believe in sometimes poisoning themselves with unknown medicines, and then have the audacity to question a qualified doctors’ intentions in writing a prescription. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

They want everything of the best quality, from panipuri to cars, and are willing to pay extra for every luxury, while expecting that only healthcare must come free, and the very doctor whom they cannot trust, cannot tell the truth to, must treat them with best empathy and honesty, give them enough time to ask unnecessary questions and doubts, and then should waive off the fees out of sympathy. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I am also tired of the corrupt practices in medicine, and the hopeless scenario that everyone rather tends to believe that the doctors are all corrupt (some indeed are, but so are few in every profession, shut up pseudo Einsteins of argument!) rather than seeing the open markets established by uninhibited corporates who are seen hand in hand with the administrators, some pharmaceuticals and some in power. Corruption by those in high places, that ranges from producing some of the worst quality, inexperienced doctors, to dispensing lower quality everything just because they have understood this trick: people fall for low cost anything, even health. Such a disaster that people do so many unnecessary tests under the “Health Check” scams themselves, but when the doctor advises even one test, suspect him / her of wanting more money! © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I refuse to be exploited. I can only change myself, not the world. Hence this meditation.

I want to live a good life: not full of gold and diamonds, but of joy, health and inner peace. Of independence, financial as well. Of my own choice and preference, not what the society decides for me. I want quality time for myself and my family too. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I do not want to be a busy doctor irritated and shouting at everyone: I would rather earn less and guard my composure. Those who cannot respect this will be given a chance to understand, but only once.

I will continue to stay highest in my principles. I will refuse to compromise on the quality of healthcare I want to practice, just because someone wants a cheaper, faster but less ethical alternative, less correct choice. I will see less number of patients and rather spend enough quality time with each of them, and charge them higher as per time and expertise, rather than hurrying through.

I will choose to encourage trust in my patients with my own behavior and words, but if I realize they are still trustless and question my integrity, I will refer them to their choice of another specialist, because I want to retain my best peace of mind for my next patient.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I will not take the extra effort to explain everyone why I do what I do, my duty is to be honest to myself and my God, my patients. I have limited time, now and in life, and I will expect that faith, trust and a level of basic intelligence (that has nothing to do with education) will enable everyone to see clearly that I mean well. That is my promise to myself: I will always mean well to my patients, and offer them my best. That should never preclude my own happiness. This will enable me achieve my inner peace so essential for a doctor.

I feel better with this already.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande