Tag Archives: student

That Order To “Stop Saving Life”..

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Arrest! Sir… Code Blue!” the nurse shouted. The casualty was full, all eight beds had serious patients, and their relatives waited near them. Every second matters.

“Everyone out” my co-intern shouted. Some moved out, some stayed. Two other interns were already attending similar patients, two of us ran to the arrested patient. The nurse had already started the chest massage. I gave patient the position for inserting the breathing tube, as my co-intern Dr. Ajoy took over the cardiac massage. The senior medical officer, Dr. Hazare, experienced with a lot of medical wisdom, stood near the bed. He calmly gave orders for the last-attempt medicines in such emergencies.

The chest massage to save lives is rather forceful, its force has to reach the heart. The chest wall has to be pumped down 2-2.5 inches with every compression, and this has to be real fast: over 100 times a minute. It looks very traumatic, but it is useless if not done exactly like this. It is quite a disturbing scene for the relatives. The patient’s son kept on shouting “Don’t hurt him” loudly. The medical officer repeatedly asked him and the five relatives around the patient to leave. They refused.

The Medical Officer Dr. Hazare then asked us to stop the CPR. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

We were baffled. How could one stop the life saving CPR?

The patient who had arrested was from a nearby slum, father of a local goon out on bail, like most goons in India. He (the patient) was in his late fifties, a chronic alcoholic and smoker, with severe liver damage. He’d had excess alcohol on the prior night. That morning, he had had a convulsion, and was brought to the casualty after many hours of delay . An arrogant, drunk, politically supported crowd posing as relatives accompanied him, a common nuisance in almost every Indian hospital.

We continued the CPR. Dr. Hazare went out.

After a direct injection of adrenaline into the heart through the chest, the patient’s heart restarted, and he started to gasp, making some movements. We quickly shifted him to the ICU. The proud feeling of saving a life gripped us. There was no time for celebration, but Dr. Ajoy kept whistling on the way for our midnight tea.

Later that night, Dr. Hazare called us. He was angry, yet calm and smiling, an ability that only the most evolved souls can have.

“Listen, we are in India. Most of the people around us are not only uneducated and ignorant, they are also quite violent and paranoid. Emotional dramas are considered a normalcy. There’s a tendency to shift the blame of delayed treatment and bad outcomes on to the doctors. You were risking your life. If the patient’s heart had not restarted, the relatives could have blamed you, even hurt you”.

“But Sir, they saw that we were desperately trying to save the patient’s life” I argued.

“YOU think so. They don’t know anything about the CPR. They refused to go out. You saw how arrogant they are. These things work only when the outcome is good. If the outcome is bad, the doctor is automatically held guilty. I told you, we are in India. People like to think that doctors are wrong, whatever you do. ” Dr. Hazare said. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

We didn’t think he was right. Still, we respected him for his wisdom, so we just apologised and went on to deal with the casualty again. It was a busy night, still a very negative feeling about what Dr. Hazare had said kept shadowing my thoughts. How could such a senior doctor ask someone to stop CPR?

Dr. Ajoy went to his room at 5 AM and returned by 7 AM to relieve me. I went home at 7 AM, had a quick bath and breakfast, to return at 9 AM.

The casualty was all devastated, ruins were seen all around. Many doctors were rushing in and out. All beds were empty except one.

Dr. Ajoy was on that casualty bed, unconscious, intubated and with blood soaked bandages on his head. He had many cuts on his entire body. Our colleagues were trying to push intravenous fluids fast into his veins. Dr. Anirudh, another intern with us, told me even as he could not stop crying: “That patient we had resuscitated yesterday evening… he had another cardiac arrest in the ICU this morning… his relatives came down and attacked Ajoy. They said that the patient died because of the forceful CPR. They stabbed Ajay and hit his head with iron rods. Dr. Hazare came and tried to rescue Ajoy, they even attacked him. We were waiting for you. Do you have his parent’s contact?”.

In a state of shock, I could not speak. I reached out for my bag, got my diary and called Dr. Ajoy’s father in Calcutta.

“Why?” Dr. Ajoy’s shocked father asked when I told him Ajoy was attacked, injured and serious. How could the father of a thin built, cute, brilliant scholar ever understand that people could brutally attack his child for trying to save their loved one?

I had no answers. Dr. Hazare’s sentences kept ringing in my brain, I could not utter them. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Eventually, Dr. Ajoy recovered. He is now in the UK. His father came over last week, for a check-up. While leaving, he kept his gracious hand upon my head and said with immense love: “Save many lives beta, but take care of yourself first. I still cannot sleep well due to what happened”.

That night, I stared at the sky, and kept thinking: Actually, this is why no doctor ever sleeps well in India. Saving lives comes with the inherent risk of losing one’s own, and this happens only in our beloved motherland.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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Religion? Caste? Race? Nationality?

Religion? Caste? Race? Nationality?
No, I cannot think about that.
A Bullet has shattered the skull, damaged half the brain of this young person of 22 years.
A surgeon has put together the pieces of skull, a fragment of metal is still seen deep inside the brain. This person has a whole future of decades to tackle with a severe disability. As doctors, we only think: what best can be done to repair the brain, how best to resettle the patient in their future life, how to help them overcome their disability.
”Shoot, Kill, Hunt, Enemy, Revenge” are not the words any true doctor in this world can ever like!
We can never think about the race, caste, religion or nationality of any human being. Because a Doctor is always above any sort of discrimination. © DR. RAJAS DESHPANDE
#bullet #war #violence #stopviolence #stopdiscrimination #racism #racist #trauma #surgery #neurosurgery#neurology#medic #medico #medicine #medical #doctor#neurology #docteur #doktor #arzt #lakare #medicina#doc #medicalpractice#emergency #lijek #geneeskunde #medicament #medizin

Reboot Fate, Kanika Is Here!

Reboot Fate, Kanika Is Here!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.

At 12 years she was on the top, an athlete who also won the scholar badge for three consecutive years and special honors at her school. Just then, a rare neurological condition played havoc in her life. She had multiple tumors, suffered a paralysis, was wheelchair bound for over two years. Then she suffered from depression, suicidal thoughts, high blood pressure, and multiple health issues which sometimes threatened her life. She had to leave school. She suffered bullying by kids her age, she had severely painful muscle tears that made it impossible to move hand and leg. Many hundred blood tests, some invasive procedures like lumbar punctures, and even a biopsy were all inconclusive. She also went through medical horrors: rude doctors, huge expenses and uncertainty. Her diagnosis is still not fully established.

But her status as a winner in the battle with fate is well established. Meet Kanika Kesri. She walked again after two long years today.

In August 2015, Kanika started having fever and severe headaches, and started becoming weak. Lot of tests were done, and she was found to have a tumor in her abdomen. A surgery was planned in Delhi, she was taken there. The specialist decided to first biopsy her tumor. The biopsy revealed a possibility of tuberculosis, so anti tuberculous medicines were started. She developed paralysis of the face and eyes, nothing could be done as the only medicines that could improve her condition – steroids- could cause dangerous worsening of her tuberculosis. In December 2015 she developed weakness in the left leg and could not walk. An MRI done then showed that she had developed multiple tumors in the brain and spine. She was then diagnosed with the most dangerous and often fatal form of tuberculosis: MDR (Multi Drug Resistant) Tb.

She was started with additional medicines and her parents were told that nothing more could be done. Her condition worsened during one of the lumbar punctures and she became bedridden, almost completely dependent. Someone told her father one of the worst medical possibilities: that this could be some form of cancer.

One of my earlier patients, Mr. Rahul Agarwal, brought Kanika’s father Mr. Pankaj Kesri to me in a devastated frame of mind. Lost in uncertainty, extremely angry at the behavior of some doctors, and frustrated with the expenses while being away from the job for a few months, he was still very polite and humble.

Her case was indeed baffling. I went through all the details, involved my colleagues at Ruby Hall Clinic, and even some of my teachers in Mumbai. The answer was almost the same everywhere: don’t know what this exactly is, but don’t stop the anti-tuberculous medicines.

Something was wrong, the girl was deteriorating in spite of taking the tuberculosis treatment. In a discussion with her parents, when her father said he had complete trust in the way we were treating her, I put forth an option: to give Kanika steroids, and if she improved, to consider withdrawing the anti-tuberculous medicines. This involved a serious risk to her life if her presumed tuberculosis worsened. With a very heavy heart, her family consented.

We started steroids. Kanika improved. We stopped the tuberculosis medicines. She continued to improve. She could now stand with a walker. Unfortunately, twice during physiotherapy sessions, Kanika tore her muscles: once in the thigh, which made it impossible for her to walk. She was bedridden again.

Till this time, Kanika was all positive, vigorously working to recover. The long illness now started to affect her mind. She became depressed, her sweet smile vanished. She tried to join school, but isolation and bullying worsened her mental agony. She started having suicidal thoughts. Very mature for her age, Kanika decided even in that condition that she was going to defeat the situation. She confessed about her thoughts to her parents. We arranged a counsellor for her. Just as Kanika started to recover from depression, the side effects of steroids started to come up: weight gain and high blood pressure. New blood pressure medicines were added. There are some alternatives to steroids, but she did not tolerate them.

Kanika wanted to study further. She joined home schooling, an excellent option made available by the central government, through NIOS (National Institute of Home Schooling).

One of the most complicated cases I have seen in this young age group, Kanika suffers from a very rare autoimmune condition. Her immune system has some dysfunction that causes multiple tumors in her body, these tumors usually resolve with steroids as they suppress immune system. The closest condition that resembles this is known as Neuro-Sarcoidosis, but some of Kanika’s tests for this were negative too.

Kanika’s parents chose to always come across pleasant and polite. “I know my daughter’s health is above all my complaints. I have chosen to concentrate on the positives” Mr. Pankaj Kesri says. Kanika’s mother Mrs. Rajni had to face a double-edged problem: while adolescent Kanika developed many ups and downs in her moods, Mr. Pankaj Kesri was transferred out of Pune. Mrs. Rajni fought alone on many fronts, while also looking after Kanika and her elder sister Kritika, who they call their pillar of strength.

It all was rewarded today, when Kanika walked without support after almost two long years. I was so happy with the miraculous moment, that I called upon my CEO, Mr. Bomi Bhote, who has always encouraged highest standards of medical care, leaving no stone unturned to bring it under his roof. He was so happy to see Kanika walk again, that he recorded the moment himself. “My wish is to see you run” he told a smiling Kanika.

We learnt a lot: many a times, some patients tolerate a lot while facing medical issues: the worst being a rude doctor. We doctors must ourselves ensure that we offer the best compassionate counseling to each such patient before we demand their faith and trust. It is never automatic. The process of medical care is an ongoing one, and it must be guided by a single principle: decision making in the best interests of the patient. A lot of study and awareness of medical advances on a daily basis is essential.

Kanika to us is an example of exemplary courage, grit, maturity, positivity and patience. She is a role model for anyone who is going through a negative medical phase. May she get back to normalcy soonest possible, may she recover completely, may she achieve whatever she sets out to achieve. She has proven many times over till now that she is a born winner.

In the beautiful moment that Kanika walked again, I found the blessings of my parents and teachers.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

PS: Thank You, Ms. Kanika, Mr. Pankaj and Mrs. Rajni Kesri for permission to share this story of courage.

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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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“If Only”

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Raina sat devastated in her chamber. Medical tragedies are a part of any doctor’s daily life, but this was cruel, because it was preventable.

A young patient in 20s, Mr. Pandey, was brought to her, with mild headaches. He had started dieting and exercising a month ago, and the entire family was hooked on to some herbal preparations that claimed to confer health without any side effects. His examination was completely normal. The patient and his highly educated parents were extremely anxious. Dr. Raina had explained to them that even if the examination was normal, sometimes headaches may be the only early warning sign of some diseases, and hence she would recommend an MRI of the brain.

“Is it necessary? Does his examination tell you something is wrong?” asked the father.

“His examination is normal, however, in many diseases that manifest only as headaches, one may not find anything wrong upon a clinical examination” Dr. Raina explained.

“Like what? Which diseases?” asked the mother, hardly aware that her anxiety was adding to her son’s distress.

Dr. Raina hesitated. When the patient or family is already so anxious, how can one utter names like cancer, tumor, aneurysm, etc.? If the doctor uses such words, some patients lose their sleep for weeks even if the tests reports turn out normal. A doctor has to be wise enough to avoid worrying the patient unnecessarily. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Well, infections like sinus disease, pressure changes in brain water, and some others which are rare” Dr. Raina said cautiously.

“Any dangerous diseases? How much is the possibility? Can we wait?” the father bombarded.

Dr. Raina controlled her discomfort and agitation. Educated or not, when a patient visiting a doctor talks as if they know better medical decision making than the doctor, the doctor mentally switches off the ‘compassionate involvement of a doctor’ and becomes a ‘legally alert’ medical professional. Questions are welcome, suspicious cross examination is not.

“The possibility of finding anything grievous like clots or tumors is extremely low, but this is usually the standard investigation to complete the evaluation of the case” she replied. She had told them to get the MRI done. They asked if it was an emergency. She said it didn’t appear to be, based upon the normal examination. She wasn’t ‘God’ to see inside the body.

She prescribed the patient some simple medicines for headache, preparing for another round of questions.

“Are these steroids? Are these antibiotics? Do these cause addiction? Do they cause damage to the liver or kidney?” she patiently replied to the family. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Why won’t a doctor think of these things when writing a prescription? Do you ask a pilot if his steps while flying are correct? Do you cross question a Judge about how he makes his decisions? Do you ask a soldier fighting with terrorists why he is firing, how many bullets, and in which direction?

The mother checked the medicines and said “Don’t mind doc, but I will first google these medicines and then start in a day or two. We will also think about the MRI”. They left.

Just two days later, the patient was found unconscious in his bed at home. Rushed to the hospital, his brain showed blockage of the venous channels in his brain, that had caused huge bleeding. He was operated in an emergency and was now paralysed on one side. He had also lost speech. The surgeon who operated the patient could manage to save his life with a great effort. The parents were still suspicious about the surgery being wrong. Many opinions were obtained, and it finally dawned upon them that what was being done was the best. The combination of unknown content medicines, low water intake, atrocious dieting and exercise had probably caused clots in his brain, leading to the blockage and bleeding.

One evening, when Dr. Raina was passing by the wards, the patient’s mother stopped her. “He is our only child. Our whole life was woven around him. Will he ever speak? Will he ever walk? Please tell us the truth”.

“We will try, although it looks quite difficult. It may take weeks to see some improvement. But we have seen miracles, let us hope for another” Dr. Raina replied. It was useless to blame anyone now, she refrained from the obvious ‘if only’. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

They came back in a few weeks after discharge. Now the son was in a wheelchair.

The mother proudly told Dr. Raina: “You know doc, after discharge we took him to a remote village in south India, where he was given special massages and an ancient secret diet. That’s why he is now improving, he has just learnt to say “Aai (mother)”.

Dr. Raina did not reply. There was no cure for the disease of faithlessness in the society that she worked for.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Light Divine

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The lady in the ICU appeared quite disturbed and shaken. Bewildered, she kept looking at her husband’s face, wiping her tears and his forehead with a corner of her saree.

Her husband, Mr. Mohan Vitthal Kadam, was critical, he had also gone completely blind suddenly and paralysed. While working as an electrician with a company in Jejuri, he was often noticed to have high blood pressure inspite of taking regular treatment with his family doctor. One day at work, he suddenly had a severe headache and went completely blind. Terrified, his colleagues rushed him to the nearest hospital. His blood pressure had shot up far above the dangerous levels. The local doctors gave him emergency treatment and sent him over to Pune. That’s why I had come to the ICU.

I introduced myself politely to his wife, and asked her the details. Sobbing intermeittently, she told me what all had happened. I examined Mr. Kadam. His BP was still high, but not in dangerous zone anymore. He was confused, unable to speak clearly. His left side was paralysed too. He pointed towards his head, indicating that he had a headache. His MRI showed many areas of his brain damaged due to high blood pressure. The areas which control the visual information coming from the eyes were damaged heavily. His brain was swollen dangerously. He could need an emergency surgery.

This condition, known among doctors as “Cortical Blindness” is a common but griveous condition: the patients eyes and the nerves are intact, they actually can see and carry the images to the brain, but the visual areas in the brain cannot see / read that information, because they are dead or injured. I informed this in simpler words to Mrs. Kadam.

“Will he ever see me again? Will he see our kids? How can he live the rest of his life with such blindness?” her questions came mixed with sobs and tears. I had very few answers, but I told her I was hopeful of a recovery. “We will first concentrate on reducing the swelling upon his brain, so we can avoid surgery” I told her. Their son came over and attended his father alternating with his mother. Mr. Kadam ‘s brain swelling gradually reduced, surgery was no more required. His BP was well controlled in two days. His paralysis also improved, but he still was completely blind.

Once he could understand the situation, he asked only one question: “Can I see my wife and children at leaast once in life again?”.

“We will try, I am hopeful” I replied. We had started with all the supplements that help recover brain damage. When he was discharged after ten days, he was still not able to see anything. He returned today.

“After we went to our village, many people told us to abandon allopathic treatment and go for secret herbal medicines and magical remedies. Somehow, myself and my wife decided to have complete faith in what you had told us. We continued your medicines and kept praying. The only light in my life then was the trust I had that I will get better. After two months, I could suddenly see a light bulb at night in our home. I immediately called my wife and told her so. Then onwards, there was a gradual improvement. I tried every day to see the faces of my wife and kids. In another two weeks, I could see them again That was the happiest day of my life.”. Mr Kadam became emotional. “Doctor, my company offered me a substantial sum as disability compensation, but I did not want money. I only wanted to see my family. Now that I can, I came here to thank you. Now I can even read a newspaper…but the darkness of being blind was far less hurtful than the thought of never seeing my dear ones again.. I cannot forget that. Thank you again, You are God for us” Mr. Kadam said.

I told him that I was just another doctor, that we were both cared for by the same God, that any qualified doctor would have done the same. I had not done anything extraordinary. But it is difficult to control a grateful patient.

“No doctor, we believe that doctors are God’s hands specially made to treat patients” he persisted.

I could only thank him. Thousands of doctors all over the world, all across India, do this every day, and receive blessings and gratitude that fills up their hearts with a joy that cannot be described.

Now I think there is a reason why Mr. Kadam came today. Many good and bad things happened in 2018. While making resolutions for the incoming new year, I was thinking once more what is most important in life. Mr. Kadam provided with many answers to that question. What matters is gratitude for what you have, especially health, gratitude for your family, and the ability to help others through their darkness. Who except a doctor is better placed to help others with health and life? Whatever other resolutions a doctor may make, one of them remains a universal favourite: ’ Let all my patients improve, and live happily a long life. Let me make every effort for that.’

Thank you. Mr. &. Mrs. Kadam, for allowing me to share this story.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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“Alive Or Dead?”

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I saw the news myself. The doctors declared her dead. They took her home. In a few hours, her son noticed her breathing, they immediately took her to another hospital, where she became conscious. Doctors are absolutely careless now a days. All doctors and hospitals work for only money..” the hefty dark man with a large moustache was telling this story loudly to a group of about eight people sitting around him, three of them quite pretty, young and attractive.

“Yes,”replied another, tall and fair, but with a shrill voice: “Doctors have become butchers now. My friend’s father suffered a head injury, and was dead on the spot. But the doctors told us he was alive and kept his dead body on the ventilator for five days, saying that his heart was beating. All for money”.

I was sitting in the cafetaria of our hospital, it was nearly ten at night. I had just attended a call for a patient of convulsion, in the recovery room , where patients are kept for a few hours after major surgeries. . The patient, who had had fits since childhood,had presented with heart failure due to a defective heart valve, and had undergone a major heart surgery to replace the valve just two days ago. He had had another fit. The cardiac surgeon Dr. Ramnath had personally called and requested me to rush and assess the patient. He was quite worried, like most surgeons are after major surgeries. After making some changes to the patient’s prescription, I called up and informed Dr. Ramnath. He was relieved “Thank you, Rajas. Will you please wait in the cafetaria? I would like to have a coffee with you” he had said. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

That’s why I was waiting in the cafetaria, as usual my back towards the world. The group sitting behind me probably wasn’t aware that I was a doctor, or likely had chosen to ignore it.

In the next ten minutes, there followed many anecdotes by various members of that group: that allopathic treatment is costlly yet useless, all doctors are sold to the drug companies, that humanity has vanished from the medical profession, etc.

The most beautiful sign of growing up is not reacting to a certain type of people. I practised it, although rattled with all that I had heard.

Dr. Ramnath walked in. His trademark fast pace and smiling face brightened the small cafetaria.

“Hi, Rajas, sorry to keep you waiting. Much obliged that you could come. I have just seen him. Oh Hi..!” he said, noticing that two people from the group stood up.

“Namaskar doctor! How is our patient? ” asked a person with the moustacheo.

“He is quite stable now, all is well. I will shift him out tomorrow if everything is okay” Dr. Ramnath said.

“Then why did he have a fit? Why didn’t you tell us that could happen?”asked the moustacheo. He had found a gentleman, polite, highly educated doctor replying his questions courteously, this was his chance to misuse it to impress the three PYTs in the group. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Ramnath’s smile vanished. “I had explained to the patient’s family. May I know who you are?” he asked to the moustacheo. Even a surgeon has limits to the misuse of patience.

“I am patient’s father’s friend” he replied, his voice on an offended backfoot.

“Please see me in my office by making an appointment”Dr. Ramnath told him.

We went over to another corner of the cafe and ordered our mutual favourite Italian Roast black coffee. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Two weeks later, the patient came to my OPD for adjustment of the fits medicine. The moustacheo came too. The patient had recovered magically, now living a new life. I told the family so.

The moustacheo was not yet satisfied. He asked many questions. I had most answers. At the end of it, I asked him what he did.

“I work as a commission agent in property deals” he told me.

“If I may ask, how much are you educated, and in which field?” I asked him.

“Oh I left school after tenth standard. Why?” He was offended.

“Can you google?” I asked him.

“Yes” he said proudly.

“Please read about ‘Lazarus Syndrome’” I told him, writing it down on a piece of paper for him.

There are many examples all over the world, where a patient’s heart stops functioning, and doesn’t respond to the usual measures of CPR / resuscitation, but automatically starts beating again after a few minutes, and the patient becomes conscious later. This is called the ‘Lazarus phenomenon’. It happens because of a complicated combination of chemical, electrical and physical changes in the heart, even many minutes after it stops. This has been reported more than 38 times all over the world. However, it is only in India that doctors are beaten up, hospitals vandalised, and the media earns crores by shouting poisonous about this headline. One state government even shut close an entire superspecialty hospital because of such incidence! (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

On the other hand, if a doctor tries to keep the patient alive even when the brain has stopped functioning, or the heart is failing, then some of our less educated muscular bollywood heroes cry foul about the entire highly qualified medical profession, that “doctors are keeping dead bodies on the ventilator to extract money” and even slap doctors in the hospital on the screen, to impress their quality of box office. Maybe we must call these “Ëxperts of life and death” in media and bollywood to treat every patient, to perform operations, and even to certify every unfortunate death that may happen in some cases. It is because of this poison spread by these ‘pseudo heroes’ at the cost of the best doctors in the world, that even after the best outcomes at the cheapest rates, Indian doctors have to face the bitterness and wrath of our society.

Whether a patient is “Dead or Alive”? Everyone in India other than qualified doctors seems to know better!

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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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

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 Parceled Sandwiches

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Entering the hospital that morning, I was wondering if I could finish early and go for a relaxed dinner with a friend who was visiting. Iwas in an excellent mood when I entered the hospital at about 10 AM. That’s when I heard the noise.

In the entrance lobby, there was a group of men, women and children, wailing, crying, shouting, pulling their hair, beating chests, and throwing their hands and legs around lying upon the floor. Few of them were shouting loudly “All doctors are looters. They robbed us and still killed the patient. How can our patient die? Catch them. Kill them. Burn the hospital” this was accompanied by abuses that cannot be mentioned. The security staff and PROs were patiently trying to tell the violent relatives that there were other patients and relatives, that there were women and children around, but the most vulgar of the abuses continued.

I walked past the abusive crowd and met my resident doctor in the ICU. The first case was that of an old man who had had a fall a week ago, but was treated at home for the first three days. Three days later, the old man had suddenly become unconscious, and on admission was found to have a large bleeding in his brain. If not operated within minutes, he would have died. Our neurosurgeons rushed in and operated him with a huge risk. Now he had just started responding, but was still not fully conscious. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Why is he still unconscious, doc? Was the surgery not done correctly?” the son asked.

“We have repeatedly told you Sir, the delay in admitting your father has caused a lot of damage in his brain. We cannot predict when and how much he will recover. The surgery was done to prevent imminent death. In my opinion, he is steadily improving. ”I explained again.

One after another, different faces of suffering and allegations, pain and expectations kept mounting and in a few hours it became difficult to feel happy. I am seriously not the type who can keep a perpetual meaningless smile upon my face without actually being happy. However, I must keep calm and smiling, because the next patient will be coming in with a lot of hope, expectation and fear. I did my best.

But my hope of having a relaxed dinner with the friend was gone. All I wanted now was to go home, take a hot shower and try and kill the negativity that was cluttering my mind. The wails and cries of the crowd were still noisy in my heart. “Who must have died? What must their family be going through? What about their children and spouse? Was this preventable?” I was curious. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The casualty called. A young girl had come with fits. Her old farmer parents had brought her. Stabilising her, and completing the examination, I asked questions to her father. With teary eyes and folded hands, he told us “We have no one and nothing left. Please do something”. Reassuring him, I messaged my CEO, who graciously allowed to treat her as a free case. I started writing notes.

“What was the ruckus in the morning?”I asked the resident doctor standing besides me.

“Oh that!” he replied “That patient was admitted for a head injury two weeks ago. He drank too much alcohol, and his bike had slipped. We admitted him as an emergency, and treated him on compassionate grounds as he was comatose. The relatives were well aware about the poor outcome. We did everything we could. I don’t know why they reacted so. Someone told me that the local politico wanted to extract some funds from the hospital”. This was not unknown, but loss of life does cause unexpected reactions, the doctors and the hospital staff bear the brunt.

Many patients were treated that day, many came cured, many went home happy, many expressed gratitude. But the fact remained that I was unable to forget the wailing family and the accusing son of the ICU patient. Am I supposed to smile and be happy for those cured and improving, or am I supposed to feel sad about the death and suffering I see every day? The emotional highs and lows that happen in every doctor’s day are too wide, too heavy and dynamic. It is not easy to forgive and forget bitterness, thanklessness and paranoid accusations on a daily basis for years, and keep smiling in between. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

My friend called. “Rajas, I am standing outside your hospital. Come let’s have a quick bite. My bus leaves in anoter one hour” she said. We entered the nearest restaurant. Her witty words indeed relaxed me somewhat, and she ordered soup and sandwiches, knownig my favourites. As the steamy soup eased my throat, I started telling her about my day. My cellphone rang.

“Is that you, doctor Deshpande? Do you remember my father Mr. Ramakant who you were treating? He passed away today. We were supposed to come to you three months ago, but as I was out of India, I couldn’t bring him. He had stopped all medicines”.

I winced. Mr. Ramakant was fairly healthy, happy and stable on medicines, they were told never to stop the treatment. How should I react?

“Very Sorry to know” I said.

“That’s okay doctor. My problem is that no doctor is giving a death certificate for him, as he had not seen a doctor since long. We need it for the funeral. If I come to you now, can you please write a death certificate for him? I will pay your charges” he said.

“Sorry, someone has to examine him and issue a certificate. Please call your neares doctor home, or take thepatient to the nearest hospital” I told him. As I kept away my cell, I avoided looking at my friend.

“What happened?”my friend asked. Looking at my face, she sensed it.

“Oh. Sorry” she asked the waiter to parcel the sandwiches.

Both of us knew that neither was going to eat them.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Please share unedited. Please let the society know what a doctor’s day is typically like.