Tag Archives: violence against doctors

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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“I Swear”

I Swear
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
 
“Have you forgotten your oath, doctor?” asked the Hon’ble minister to Dr. Prasad.
 
The fat elderly reporter accompanying the Hon’ble minister laughed. “We must teach these doctors a lesson” he said.
Being a doctor, good language and behavior is essential. So Dr. Prasad swallowed the immediate reaction that had sprung to the tip of his tongue, one that involved references to some passionate human interaction.
 
He then smiled.
“Sir, did you attend any school?” he asked the Hon’ble minister innocently.
The Hon’ble minister was offended. He had not had a respectable academic record. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“What does that mean? Do you know who you are talking to?” the accompanying reporter raised his voice.
“Yes, I know I am talking to a patient. A human being with the same organs as me, but not the same merit or intentions” said Dr. Prasad.
 
Before the cunning reporter and the Hon’ble minister could formulate a reply, Dr. Prasad continued:
“Sir, all over India, for ten years, everyone who has attended any school has recited every morning, the National Pledge. That is our promise to our beloved nation. Let me remind you of some sentences in that prayer:
I shall give my parents, teachers and all elders respect and treat everyone with courtesy.
To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion.
In their well being and prosperity alone lies my happiness.
Tell me Sir, are all politicians, ministers, media persons, businessmen, lawyers, and other professionals following this oath that they have recited every day for ten years? If yes, where does violence come from? Not only in hospitals, but in every other home, against children, against womenfolk, against even the elderly”.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
 
“But you are a doctor, you have taken an oath to serve” said the defiant Hon’ble, expert in the art of diverting discussions.
 
“No, Sir”, replied Dr. Prasad firmly, “I have not taken any oath to tolerate violence or abuse, or to risk my own life or limb. I have not taken any oath to feed with my blood and sweat the deficient and perpetually corrupt healthcare systems. I have not taken any oath to be nice and kind to attacking, drunk, abusive or irresponsible people who enter the hospital with an almost dead patient at the last moment and then expect the doctor to perform miracles. I have never taken any oath to treat Judges and Ministers and Rich VIPs above the poor, really deserving patients. I have not promised anyone that I will neglect my family or my own health”.
 
“I have only taken an oath to honestly treat the sick with dignity, not thinking about money. That most doctors do, some who fail are common in every field. My oath is to help a patient recover. If I fail, try me in a court of law. Send me to a court that understands law better, and appeals people not to be violent, tells governments to protect everyone against violence, rather than asking doctors to tolerate violence as a part of their duty. It is exactly as backward as like asking a wife to tolerate her husband’s atrocities as a part of her duties”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
 
The restless tail barked again: “But the public pays for your education”
 
“I beg to differ, sir. No one is obliging anyone by paying for doctor’s education. The country needs many more thousand doctors. And we pay taxes too, to be protected. People pay taxes for a good and cheap healthcare system, please give them that, rather than them having to depend upon private hospitals. A doctor is just a small component in healthcare. Don’t blame him for expecting the same protection that every citizen expects. The infrastructure and policies are pathetic, and an intelligent taxpayer will one day understand that the doctors are not taking home any money as their alms. Everyone knows who gets richer with taxpayer’s money, Certainly not the doctors”.
 
“As for your allegation, respected reporter sir” said Dr. Prasad calmly to the tail, “You are educated, you have a responsibility to heal social ills, not widen the bleeding wounds and survive on that flowing blood. There are so many good examples of reporters / media persons who bring immense good to our society. The ability to sit in one’s chamber with all controls, and bark at everyone, manipulate speech cunningly, distort facts pretending to be holier than others, while your seat is dipped in hidden honey is not reporting”.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
 
“Doctor, you have too much ego” said the angry Hon’ble.
 
“No sir, intolerance to stupidity is not ego. Every religious ceremony, every professional oath makes us repeat the good we must do, including a minister’s oath of office. . Very few actually do it, but everyone thinks it is only the doctor who must follow his oath” said Dr. Prasad.
 
He then checked the Hon’ble Minister and wrote him a prescription that included weight reduction and abstinence from alcohol.
 
Without a Thank You or a payment, the powerful duo left.
 
“I swear” said Dr. Prasad, smiling to himself, “I will never give them the joy of taking it lying down”.
 
That is the basic oath of every self respecting human being.
 
Jai Hind
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
 
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Emergency: The Doctor Is Not In

Emergency: The Doctor Is Not In
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“It’s an emergency, doctor” shouted the angry son at my OPD door at closing time, around 11 PM. We rushed to the casualty. It indeed was an emergency. His father had developed a stroke, and was found to have a moderate sized bleed in his brain.

His younger son who had done some medical diploma in some yet-unrecognised pathy had stopped his father’s blood pressure and diabetes medicines three months ago. “I was observing him at home. The BP was high and the sugar was around 300, but I was trying my own medicines, as I don’t have faith in allopathic medicines” the son told me without a trace of shame or guilt.

“How long has your father had these high BP and sugar levels?” I asked him, impatience choking me.
“May be a month” he had replied coldly.
The treatment initiated by the casualty doctors had stabilised the patient. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
As we returned to OPD, the angry resident doctor with me said “He should be booked for attempted murder”.

Within three days of the admission, both the sons of this patient decided to take him home. Patient had still not recovered his consciousness well, and was being fed via a feeding tube. “We will manage him at home. We will call you if anything is required” they told me.

Grown up by now, I replied “I am not available on phone. Please see your local doctor or take him to the nearest hospital should he have any problem”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“What if it is an emergency? He is under you care” the elder son asked aloud, in a threatening voice.
“He is not under my care once discharged. We will advise him medicines and give other instructions. I am not your paid servant. I am not available for consultation on cellphone” I told them my working hours. I had not become a doctor to be abused by those who wanted to save time and money. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Then over four months later, the two brothers entered my room at 9 PM.

“Doctor, our father is having vomitings with blood since yesterday morning. He is not responding well when we speak. Can you prescribe something?” the elder brother asked “He is at home, we thought we will first give him some medicine and try”.
“Why didn’t you admit him even when he had bloody vomiting yesterday?” I asked, almost knowing the answer.
“We thought it will stop. Also, there was nobody to admit him. We both have our office jobs.
“I cannot prescribe anything without seeing such a serious patient. You must take him to the nearest hospital with a gastroenterologist. Please treat this as an emergency” I told them. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

However their calm was unruffled.
“We will take him to some hospital near our home. They will treat him immediately no?” asked the younger one.
Before I could reply, the elder brother raised his voice again: “They will have to. Or we will show them. This is an emergency. If something goes wrong, we will bring down the hospital”.

In two days, we read the news of a small nursing home ransacked and destroyed, doctors manhandled by relatives because this patient had died. The doctors who tried to save him were arrested under an allegation of “attempted murder”.

The word “emergency” is as familiar to every doctor as his own name. Hundreds of deaths in casualty are related to delayed admission at the terminal moment, and no one looks at the gruesome ignorance, neglect and delay behind the scenes, which equals murder by the patient’s own friends/ relatives. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. Addicted to thoughtless emotional outbursts, our society usually reacts without logical thinking except few intellectuals who do not constitute a vote bank.

Drug reaction? Beat up the doc!. Patient in casualty or hospital died? Beat up the doc! Arrest them! Jail them! If the same patient is killed due to wrong treatment by his relatives, or dies at home because he was never taken to the hospital by family members: it’s okay!

Many who are advised right tests don’t do those. Many who are advised right medicines do not take them. Many do not undergo the correct procedures / surgeries advised. Because the patient is “King consumer!” Then when their health deteriorates. It is suddenly the medical profession that becomes responsible for everything that goes wrong.

Time has come for IMA to demand an enquiry into the circumstances few hours / days / weeks prior to every death in casualty and emergency where the doctor / hospital was blamed. Right from neglect, ignored medical advice to hidden information, many skeletons will tumble out. An IMA legal cell should start filing cases of culpable homicide in every such case. Then alone, equality principle will prevail.

Time has come when small hospitals, nursing homes and clinics, which were earlier trying to rescue serious patients in emergency, will display this board after the regular OPD hours:

“Emergency services not available. Doctor NOT in campus”.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The God Pendulum

The God Pendulum
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Aman handed over his car to the valet, and went to the rooftop restaurant, his favourite rendezvous. The captain soon brought over his favourite coffee pot and some starters.

‘The look of love’ by Kenny G started playing. It is impossible not to feel inner peace and romance while listening to that piece. Dr. Aman started to think. Yes. He had much in life to sort out.

Sunday late afternoon. The only afternoon to relax if lucky. A moment of peace so precious, that even family duties take a back seat, the mind is so tired of the heavy duty medical practice. Heavy duty because mistakes are not allowed, and seldom forgiven. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

It is difficult to relax at home too. The society security staff, maids, some ‘sudden’ old friends from god-knows-what-stage-of past will want home consultation, and it is rude for a doctor to say no to any health queries by anyone, anytime, anywhere. Cellphones have become the worst health hazards, more so for the doctors.

He had two patients under his care in the hospital, so he decided not to switch off the cellphone, he was responsible should they have any problem in the hospital.

The phone of course rang.

“Sir, casualty. One GP has referred for you an old lady with convulsions. She is quite bad” the medical CR appeared disturbed.

“On my way” said Dr. Aman, paid his bills, and reached the hospital. On the way he kept on giving intructions to the junior doctor.

The 65 year old lady had had fever for a week, not taken to the doctor, treated by her non-medico daughter and son with home remedies. On the seventh day, yesterday, she had had many vomitings and became unconscious. The local GP gave her some basic treatment, and sent her to the city as she had no facility to treat such a critical case. Since that morning she had also had convulsions.

She was already intubated in the critical care unit when Dr. Aman reached. CT scan of her brain was normal. Her sodium levels turned out to be dangerously low. The management requires skilful vigilance, and it was already started. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Her daughter and son were waiting outside the ICU. Dr. Aman updated them about her condition.

The angry son asked “Why is her sodium low? Is it because of the medicines given by the doctor yesterday? I it the side effect of those medicines?”

Dr. Aman had now acquired the skills to tame his anger. He told that it was because of the vomitings, and that they should have taken her to the doctor earlier when she had fever.

The daughter started with an emotional appeal, speaking loudly “Do whatever you want, doctor, please save my mother. You are like God to us. Nothing should happen to her. We are ready to do anything. Please save her”.

“We are trying our best. Let’s hope she recovers” Dr. Aman said the legally correct thing.

“So when will she become normal?” asked the patient’s son.

“It is not predictable, we need to reassess her after convulsions stop and sodium levels are corrected” Dr. Aman replied. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“So why don’t you correct her sodium levels right now?” asked the son, as looking at the surrounding relatives as if he was suggesting the obvious that the doctor had missed.

“If sodium is corrected faster than a certain rate, she will develop paralysis, it can also be permanent” Dr. Aman replied, and added “Look, boss, if you do not have trust in our treatment and skills, you can please shift her to any other hospital you wish.”

“No. no doctor. We trust you. You are like God for us. We brought her here because this hospital is big and famous, and has all facilities” said the daughter. The son just kept on looking angrily at the doctors.

On the third day, the lady became conscious. On the fourth day, she was off the ventilator.

“When will she be shifted out?” the daughter asked.

“After a day of observation in the ICU” said the junior doctor.

“Why is it necessary to be in ICU now?” asked the son.

“Because she still has fluctuating oxygen levels, and needs continuous observation” replied Dr. Aman. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Why cannot you observe her in the ward room? The ICU is so costly” the angry son kept muttering.

On the fifth day they requested discharge, as the patient was walking. Her weakness was still fluctuating, and her BP was low. She was discharged on request.

Within an hour, a crowd surrounded Dr. Aman.

“What is this? Is this any bill? Are you doctor or a thief?” the daughter started shouting, to a full audience of the waiting patients.

“Listen. You knew these charges when she was admitted. I do not own this hospital. The rates are standard, and so are the criteria for free or concessional patients. Please speak to the billing department.” Dr. Aman kept his tone low still. He did not want to point at the two costly cellphones that the son flaunted.

They did not qualify for free treatment as per the govt. norms.

“Doctor your fees is also there in the bill. Atleast cut that off. We cannot afford.” The son insisted. The waiting crowd surrounding them stared at the face of Dr. Aman. “Will the doctor be human and help this poor?” was the mob expression.

To save time, Dr. Aman asked the billing clerk to scratch off all his consultation fees. Saved time is more precious than earned money for the doctor.

While leaving, the daughter looked angrily at Dr. Aman and said “We never thought that doctors will be so rude and commercial. Curse upon such doctors who extract money from the poor”.

A doctor must digest all kinds. All patients who had witnessed the scene were doubtful and upset. They knew nothing about the patient and what had actually happened. They had just witnessed the last scene.

Just five days later, the whole family returned in panic. The lady had developed many convulsions as she had stopped the medicines after going home. Now she was unconscious because of the low oxygen that had damaged her brain. This could take a long time. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The daughter started “You are God, Doctor, please save her” etc. etc.

Dr. Aman gave instructions about the basic management to the emergency team, then turned to the daughter and said “I am sorry. I am busy with other patients, please take her to another doctor or hospital. I cannot attend her”.

“Can you refuse a patient?” asked the son, as if he had taken a special training from Mr. Ram Jethmalani.

“Yes, I can” said Dr. Aman “No one can expect a doctor to take correct decisions under duress, threats or abuse, and if I think there’s risk to my life or reputation because of ill behaved, hostile relatives, I can even refuse emergencies”.

There was no guilt in his mind when he started the car. He had become a doctor to serve the sick and suffering. Those who did not value him, his work and his profession did not deserve his service. His dignity was as important as his humanity, he would not sacrifice it for those who didn’t deserve it.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Critical

Critical
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Code Blue” someone shouted.
There were sounds of rushing, muffled sobs and wails, metal trolleys banging walls and glass syringes being broken open.
He rushed fastest, asked the relatives to wait outside.
“What’s wrong with him?” insisted the patient’s brother on knowing.
“His heart has stopped. Please wait out we don’t have time”.
The nurses had positioned the patient and started the CPR.

The ugliest sound in the world: the desperate rocking of the bed during a cardiac massage, was heard outside the cabin. The high pitch beeps of the defibrillator followed by the thuds of a body due to the electric shock initiated prayers even in the hearts of strangers. The relatives of other patients in the ICU waited outside their cabins, watching the faces of those who were crying. Those who could not bear the sight went inside their cabins. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He went on doing the CPR, knowing that the patient was young, and may still respond. The risk of this highly fatal disease to himself and the nursing staff was taken for granted: there is no time to “dress up” for CPR. He was simultaneously ordering the injections to be given. A male nurse took turns and helped him with the cardiac massage.

It is exhausting. Giddy after some time, he looked at the watch. It was about half an hour since the event. Almost nil chances now. He asked the nurse to continue, and came out to inform the relatives.
“He has had a cardiac arrest. We are trying, but it looks difficult” he informed the patient’s brother.
“Why? How come?” the brother shouted as the rest of the family gathered. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“We have been informing you many times. He has been critical. His lungs were not functioning well, his brain has many TB tumors, and his kidneys have been shut due to infection for a long time. It is called multiorgan failure”.
“We don’t know all that, doctor. Save him” said the brother.

Young patient. Fever since over three months. Avoided seeing allopaths for over a month. Diagnosed as multidrug resistant tuberculosis, one of the worst and most difficult diseases to treat. By the time they reached the proper specialist through all the “money saving” channels, it was too late. Almost all Government Hospitals have experts and facilities to treat MDR TB, but somehow people think it is below their dignity to avail of services at Govt hospitals.

The ICU doctor came out after a while. “We are sorry, he could not be revived” he sadly told the relatives.

Then there was a shriek, as the patient’s brother held the doctor by his collar, and slapped him. Exactly the style of Akshay Kumar from some movie. A lady doctor tried to stop the brother, but was held by the women in the family and bestowed with blows and abuses. The security, who had allowed the relatives on humanitarian grounds, regretted it, and desperately tried to control the relatives. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

In an hour, they all left.

He washed himself. There was no time to cry, complain, register a case or go to TV channels or press. There were 22 other critical patients in the ICU, and he was in charge. He had to forgive, forget, digest it all. And then there was a perpetual expectation of the society to “understand” the misbehavior of the bereaved.

In a few minutes, another gasping patient came in on the same bed. A young girl with continuous convulsions. He rushed and intubated her, stabilised her. He talked to and pacified her panicked parents. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He had forgotten the slaps, the abuses and the blows he received a few moments ago. Like filmstars who slap qualified doctors on the screen and earn crores for that “entertainment”, he did not deserve a palatial bungalow and luxury cars, but as a life saver who saved hundreds every year, he was doomed to an asylum walled by expectations, criticism, abuse and overwork. Saving lives was “just a duty” not deserving respect or rewards.

The stress that comes from handling daily CPRs, saving lives and declaring deaths for years together cannot be acted by any of the Tom Dick Harrys on screen. Most of them are not even intellectually equipped to perceive the education, hard work and traumatizing effects of daily deaths and allegations that a critical care doctor faces.

While exceptionally literate and mature film personalities like Mr. Amitabh Bachchan and Ms. Lata Mangeshkar have always praised the doctors and spoken highly respectfully about them, most other “Muttonshop” artists have only exemplified their own jealousy about the highly educated doctors, trying to show them down one way or another.

I know of some friends who spend a sad, spoilt day even when they see a funeral passing by. The doctor has to face it every day, still carry on dealing with money savers, skimpy, arrogant, abusive and violent relatives reaching the hospital at the last moment. He has to garner a calm and control possible only with great effort. This tells upon the doctor’s mental and physical health. Being blamed and held responsible for someone’s death (this has become rampant now: to presume that all deaths are someone’s fault) in spite of trying hard to save them is something no film star, judge or minister will ever understand. Very few doctors are able to enjoy a genuinely stress free happiness in their personal life.

Of all the doctors suffering today because of the illiteracy, poverty and defective policy-making in India, the critical care and casualty doctors are the worst sufferers. My heartfelt tear and salute to their unending suffering for humanity. Also a strong appeal to the press, law authorities and the government to ensure that these highly stressed doctors are not assaulted, unnecessarily criticized or abused.

Just imagine a world without casualties or Intensive care services. That is a choice which doctors still retain.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Negligence cases deserving severe punishment.

Negligence cases deserving severe punishment.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A police sub inspector in civil dress, his wife and three kids aged 8, 5 and 1 were brought to casualty. All profusely bleeding. My job as an intern was to secure IV line and stop bleeding. As the CMO questioned the PSI, we all realised as suspected from the stink that the police officer was drunk. He had run into a braking truck from behind. One kid and the wife died the same night. He created a ruckus in his drunk state, threatening to kill everyone in the casualty. “If my wife dies, I will see to it that your life is ruined” he threatened to the CMO. The CMO kept on doing his duty, stressed and hurt. We were all real scared next few days. Everyone sympathises with such a loss. No one will aid or enjoy anyone’s death in a hospital.
Then why this curse of blames?

“This happened due to that doctor’s wrong treatment” : common words now heard in many clinics daily. Who causes maximum deaths due to negligence? Can only a doctor cause medical negligence? No.

These medical negligence cases must be punished too, with bad press, crores of rupees in fines, and public humiliation. You be the judge who is guilty:

Teenager son of an MLA. Played with wild snakes as a hobby, proudly encouraged by this MLA. Bitten by a cobra, landed in icu critical. A patient on ventilator was ‘shifted out early’ to accomodate the MLAs son.

Doctor advised a blood thinning medicine to prevent clots after diagnosing clotting disorder,. Patient went with her husband to a quack, took unknown herbal medicine and stopped blood thinner. Developed strokes, now in a vegetative state.

Patient advised to quit alcohol,,as it caused fits. Counselled with family and friends. In a week had alcohol with same friends, had fits, died in casualty.

Diabetic, told to control diet, continued to binge-eat sweets, lovingly cooked by wifey. Landed in coma due to very high blood sugars.

Pet dog, unimmunised, bit many on the same day, the dog died in three days. One diabetic patient bit by this dog died of sepsis / infection (not rabies). Immense horror among the ten-odd families of bitten members till date after a year.

Kid aged 14, parents allowed him to ride two wheeler on road without licence, killed on spot colliding with a truck. Toddler unwatched on the road died, run over by a truck.

60 year old Mother has giddiness for three days, son and daughter in law not free till fourth day to take her to hospital. Dies in casualty due to stroke.

Patient advised not to fast as it may increase chances of having fits. Fasted and landed in ICU with status epilepticus (a series of continuous fits).

Traffic police at a crowded junction busy with his “routine” away from his spot. Head on collision, two dead.

Unfortunately, in almost all above cases, the treating doctors were beaten up, casualty staff and hospitals vandalised, doctors sued, bad press judged an entire profession almost like a criminal, for not saving the victim.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Often the relatives refuse to take patients to higher centers, expecting “big, advanced treatments and impractical outcomes” from low-cost, small nursing homes not equipped with specialty facilities, then end up vandalising or blaming such set-ups upon inevitable disappointment. Missed medicine, overdose, unobserved children, helpless neglected elderly parents, smoking, alcohol, traffic accidents all cause millions of deaths. So do delayed admissions, some herbals and “unknown” medicines, hunger, poverty, stress at home and workplace.

But it is the “death in hospital” that alone matters, and by default the blame is pinned upon the doctor!

Some actors can kill, rape, go naked, smoke, drink, race, gamble, pee in public, set records for drunken misdemeanours on and off screen, knowing that most illiterate and immature populations imitate them blindly. But they will tell the nation how the medical profession (for which they themselves did not opt in spite of excellent merit in school or in some cases even college) should behave and treat patients!

The few honourable judges who have now realised the “blackmail potential” of medical negligence cases, have fortunately started referring these cases to panels of medical experts before concluding and fixing charges. The only maturity issue that remains is about local goons and politicos with flitting loyalties looking for publicity at the cost of the harmless and intellectual population of doctors. These goons turn the helpless frustration, panic reaction towards tragedy and poverty of our society into anger against doctors and hospitals. As long as there are sane people in the responsible media, there is good hope.

Doctors must start recording without bitterness, any hostile tendencies, lies, deviation from duties towards the patient, advised and declined tests and treatment, neglect and avoidance patterns to provide adequate care for the patient by the relatives. Also the exact circumstances of onset of the problems (patient was drunk / drugged / under medication effect / fasting / missed medicine) etc. and relevant past that may have contributed to the event. This will minimise the allegations and misrepresentation of facts.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Ofcourse the doctors must also discharge their duty with the highest standards of practice possible in their set-up. They must communicate well and explain the condition atleast once to the concerned relatives. They must behave courteously, sympathetically and try to understand and forgive the panic states of relatives within the sphere of civilised behaviour. We all love our patients. But like in every other relationship, we fail to say it aloud and make it clear with our behaviour, thanks to heavily stressful and inadequate lives we lead. Let us make an effort on our side to take one more step in the direction of kindness and understanding, in a hope of saving this profession from defamation at the hands of middlemen.

Let us make a greater effort to tell the society that it is only a doctor who will never intend harm. The only reliable rescue from the clutches of death, even a doctor fails sometimes. The effort has to be recognised if not always rewarded, but never suspected.

Negligence, you see, is easy to pin only upon the doctor.
All others are forgiven any number of deaths in all other types of negligence.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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A Murderer’s Family That Almost Killed Us

A Murderer’s Family That Almost Killed Us
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The whole city awaited a murder, just like in the book ‘Chronicles of a death foretold’ by Mr. Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It was during my internship. I was posted in the civil hospital casualty along with Dr. Anwar and Dr. Junaid, my batchmates. The postings were phenomenal in that we got “Hands-On” experience on a variety of Medical Emergencies.

As a result of a professional rivalry between two big families, one head was shot down point-blank in cold blood on a busy street. The brother of the dead had sworn that he will kill the killer soon. It was just a question of time. We heard the progress in hushed tones during night-tea with wardboys and ambulance drivers.

One night we had our customary 2 AM tea on the street opposite the hospital, and were just re-entering the casualty when there were panicked screams outside, and a whole lot of people barged in, asking for doctor on duty. Dr. Anwar said that the medical officer was in his room, and asked about the patient.

The patient was the victim’s brother, the infamous one who had sworn to kill the murderer. He had developed vomitings and diarrhea, and had become unconscious. He also heavily smelt of alcohol. The medical officer on duty came over, a skin specialist. He examined the patient, ordered medical tests including blood alcohol levels and the analysis of aspirate from the tube inserted in the patient’s stomach. Writing the treatment plan, he told us to carry it on, and left to retire.

I looked for a good vein to start the IV fluids. Dr. Junaid recorded the pulse and BP, both a little out of range but acceptable. Got the vein. . Gave him the advised medicines. The patient was stable.

Dr. Anwar started to write the police information note. We must inform all medicolegal cases immediately to the police in hospital campus, by law. Dr. Junaid whispered to me: some relatives smelt of probably Marijuana.

We were in a cubicle, the dressing room besides inpatient casualty, made of Government-grade cheap plywood, with a wooden table and metal chair, patient bed, IV stand, and an elementary dressing cart. It had only one door, now blocked by atleast 20 relatives, all shouting angrily about why the patient was still unconscious. ‘If something happens to him you will not survive’, some of them kept on repeating. They were headed by an extremely aggressive and big lady, who said she was patient’s sister. We told her he was stable and expected to improve.

“Why isn’t he conscious yet?” she asked angrily.

We started getting anxious.

The security guards were meekly standing behind the crowd. They were both government servants, and this crowd was above them, government, and even law, in that moment.

The telephone rang. It was the hospital’s ambulance driver, our night-tea partner, calling from a ward. He said in hurried and anxious voice “Sir, they are not good people. Leave that room. I will keep the ambulance ready outside if you want to come out. Don’t argue with them:” he said.

“We cannot” I said. The relatives were right there. “We need some IV fluids” I told him.

“Yes, sir” he got it.

Dr. Anwar handed over the police information sheet to a wardboy waiting out, through the crowd.

The patient’s sister snatched it from his hand. “What is this?” she asked.

“The senior Doctor asked us to file an MLC (medicolegal case) as there is suspicion of alcohol intoxication and food poisoning.. just a routine procedure” explained Dr. Anwar, carefully choosing his words but still with hesitation. It is never easy to talk to someone angry and aggressive.

Then there was a loud noise, a wet and heavy and muffled thud. She had slapped Dr. Anwar. “My brother is dying, and you want to file police case?” she caught hold of his shirt-collar, bent and lifted him with her hand between his legs, kicking him all the while. Myself and Dr. Junaid ran to her, saying, many things that meant sorry, it was just a procedure, that we were told by our senior, her brother is not dying but stable etc. etc. You know how coherent one can be in such a situation.

We were pushed back violently by two of them. “You don’t move from here till our brother is conscious” we were told, with added expletives, a hefty man held my shirt collar and violently pushed me into the wall near the patient. I smelt the burnt marijuana too. Another stout one was tugging at Dr. Junaid’s shirt, which ripped off. Gentlest among my friends, I cannot forget Dr. Junaid’s face in that moment. Slaps continued, as the incharge sister and nurses tried to shout and try to intervene, but the crowd didn’t allow them to enter the room.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The aggressive lady lifted up Dr. Anwar, and banged him on the plywood wall. It gave away, shattering also the glass within it. Dr. Anwar started shouting for help as she continued to fist and kick him with others as he lied on the floor. One relative lifted up the chair and started randomly hitting things with it: the telephone, the glass on the cubicle walls and finally aimed it at us. Five feet away from us, there stood this goon with a metal chair aimed at the two of us held to a wall by other relatives.

That moment is framed in my mind for forever. We were treating his brother, none of this was our fault, we didn’t know them at all, still, they were ready to kill us.. Not one insane person, but a whole crowd! Any legal action later on won’t matter once we die or are hurt. A doctor’s life meant nothing for those goons who had both power and money.

We begged him not to throw the chair.

He threw it with a wild gusto anyway, and as we turned away to dodge it, the chair hit us, its edges cut through Dr. Junaid’s’s ear and my arm. Pain was less of an agony than what was happening. The incharge sister outside started screaming and crying aloud.

The patient moved, and pulled out his IV line. His blood started soaking the white bed sheet. Just as I moved to get a syringe to temporarily block it (it was an open needle), someone slapped my back. “Can’t you see he is bleeding? Stop it”. Dr. Junaid reconnected the IV line with bare hands, trembling.

At this point, the Civil Surgeon entered, an old man with many political and social connections. He was accompanied by two-three police constables and the senior doctor on duty who had called them. The family knew the CS as well as the police. He pacified them, told them he will look after the patient personally, and asked them all to go to his room.

The incharge sister, a mother to all, still crying, took us to the doctor’s room, and dressed our wounds. The ambulance driver got us some coffee.

The CS never asked us if we were hurt. He kept on telling the stories of how he calmed down the crowd for ages later. He never felt responsible for what happened, nor reprimanded his “friends” for their violent behavior with his junior doctors.

The patient improved, and was discharged in three days. The whole family came to take him away again. They left without any thanks or apologies.

About a week later, our patient fulfilled what he had promised his family: He killed his brother’s murderer in open daylight, witnessed by dozens on a busy city square.

Dr. Anwar and Dr. Junaid have long left India, and are happily settled in safer countries. Twenty years down the line, I continue to read the same story almost every other day, recalling and re-living the horror.

Anyone can walk in with a crowd in any Indian Hospital and violently destroy life and property, under the pretext and excuse of being angry at anything they don’t understand or like. . A law exists now, but you know the implementation. Mandatory action against any violence/ threatening /Intimidation in any Medical Premises must be implemented, without the doctor / hospital needing to file a complaint. You know what happens to witnesses in India.

I pity the brains of those who blame doctors for “not explaining properly to the anxious relatives” thus justifying the violence and attacks. No Judge, No Govt. Officer, No police officer “explains everything “ to anyone when we go to their offices, in fact most of them treat “Junta” (everyone else / common man) as a waste. That doesn’t allow us to attack them and destroy property. This is only “softly dealt” about doctors and hospitals.

We need a concrete plan against this domestic violence mostly cultivated by those in power. Or a National Revolt against violence in Medical Premises.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande