Tag Archives: violence against doctors

To pause for respect

To pause for respect

To pause for respect

© Dr Rajas Deshpande

After completing the neurological examination, I asked Mr Harkishan Budhrani to sit down and put his shoes on. His son accompanying him got up, sat near his father’s feet and started to adjust his father’s shoes for comfort.

To pause for respect was my only choice.

Mr Harkishan Budhrani is a British citizen, and so are his sons Mr Naresh and Mr Raj. Every time one of them accompanies Mr. Budhrani for the consultation. They not only come prepared with their father’s health details, but also take notes and follow all the suggestions. Yet what is most noticeable for me as a doctor is the care and respect with which they speak to their father and treat him. There’s nothing artificial about their attitude, which makes it special! They take his permission for every change we agree to make, explain him and patiently wait for his consent and questions. They hold his hand and even ask him whether it is ok to walk ahead! Rarely do we see children from very affluent families being so careful and loving to their parents.

In an era where many a times sons and daughters accompanying their parents either bluntly ask “How long is the parent going to survive, What basic minimum can be done without much expenditure, Is it okay not to treat at all” etc., when we come across such extremely gratifying moments, I feel that all is not lost. By experience now I don’t think that this belongs specifically to Indian culture, in fact people from most cultures in the world treat their parents far better than many Indians. The very fact that Our govt and courts have to make laws and take steps for abandoned and neglected parents speaks a lot about what is happening. In fact, the more affluent a family is, the less likely that the children genuinely care for their parents.

Taking for granted that the parents do not want to live longer, deciding on their behalf that expensive treatments are useless and unwanted, oversimplifying all complaints as ‘age related’ and completely neglecting medical care are common observations in our practice.

This moment therefore brought me a beautiful ray of hope.

21st July 2018 is Mr. Harkishan Budhrani’s 85th Birthday. While I pray for his excellent health and perpetual happiness, I wish that every parent is as fortunate as him and that Mr Budhrani lives on many more hundred years as an example for all of us.

©️ Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Victim? Dr. Reena’s story

Victim? Dr. Reena’s story

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dedicated to those such who have had this horrible experience.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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A Habit That Protected Me

A Habit That Protected Me

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I cannot bear this. Help me doctor”shouted the Old man fom the waiting room, just as I entered the OPD. There were appointments before him, I requested others to wait, and most of them agreed, although a little upset. I called in the old man. He was accompanied by two of his sons, both probably professional bodybuilders.

He was a known case of Trigeminal Neuralgia, a condition that causes severe, shock like or stabbing, excruciating pangs of pain on one side of the face. This usually brings the patients to tears, and most patients come frustrated, unable to talk or eat, with the telltale sign of their hand covering that side of the face, scared to open mouth even to reply. He had had this condition over ten years now, and was quite stable, usually visiting me once a year. He had last visited only a few weeks ago, smiling and pain free. There were no new findings. He kept on shouting, saying that the pain was unbearable. This was unusual. I asked him if he had done any of the prohibited things that usually increase the pain of Neuralgia: cold drinks, icecream, shaving harshly, exposure to breezes etc. He said he had had an icecream a few days ago, but the pain had only restarted yesterday.

The sons were staring menacingly at me. “How come this has suddenly worsened doc? Is this the effect of your medicines?” one asked. I wondered why they don’t teach simple logic and reasoning in primary schools. Everyone going to a gym must, in my opinion, first be mandatorily taught normal human conversation. Otherwise they speak with their biceps. Not knowing that language, I chose not to reply him. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He was already on high doses of the medicines that controlled his pain. He also had diabetes, so I could not use the best emergency medicine for such pain: steroids. Once earlier, he had developed severe infection while on steroid, so that was out of question.

I started him on a short course of a strong pain killer. Warning him that he should take it only for three days. “His pain must stop immediately” said the other son, threateningly. “I wish so too. It should subside soon, usually it takes two to five days” I concluded the consultation.

They returned five days later. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I am very good now, Doctor”said the old man, “The pain went away the very next day. Thank You”.

Just as I prepared to look at the musclebuckets proudly, the old man said “Doctor I need a certificate that you had advised me bedrest for five days”.

I was almost prepared to write, this appeared a justified request given what had transpired. Curious, I asked him: “But you have your own business. Why do you need this certificate?”

It was then that one of the biceps spoke: “He had a court appearacne in a criminal case on the next day of our visiting you. He could not go to the court. Now the court has asked for a certificate”.

Alarmed, I told them: “I had not advised him rest. I cannot issue a false certificate.” (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

They looked at each other. Then the old man said “I request you doctor. My cousin has filed a false murder charge against me and my sons. Please help us. Your certificate will save us trouble”he folded his hands.

Now the secret of why that pain had worsened suddenly had unfolded. This condition is indeed known to suddenly worsen, but when such “situations”coincide with illnesses, a doctor is the easiest to squeeze the arm of.

“But we paid your fees. His pain was actually severe that day. How can you deny us a certificate now?”asked the elder biceps.

Many video clips of daylight, open murders that happen around us daily ran through my mind. Even under the heading of compassion, was it right to help this patient, who was one of the accused? As a doctor, I am not to judge anyone and must purely decide based upon the medical merits of this case.

I had not advised him rest. I declined their request for the certificate. Angrily, the trio left my room, and on the way out, in the waiting room, loudly enough for other patients to listen, the old man said something derogatory about all doctors being heartless looters. Every new patient who walked in that day had a question mark of suspicion on their face, it took me extra effort to wipe that away in each case. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Whether it is addiction to pain killers or sleep medicine, whether it is false certificates or deceiving the medical insurance companies for claims, many patients abuse their doctors’ compassion and services. Some doctors fall easy prey to such tactics, some do it for money. Majority refuse to contribute. It is this majority that such “demanding”patients always cry against.

The doctors who help such people with such causes not only endanger themselves, but may in fact add disgrace to their profession, because it is these same patients who tell others how any doctor can be fooled, or bought with some money or threat.

As fate would have it, one of the sons came to visit me the very next month, for his wife. As I examined her and then wrote a prescription for her, I enquired about his father.

“Oh he is alright now. We got a certificate from one of our relative who’s a doctor” said the son, smiling shyly: “That’s why I brought my wife to you.. I know you will do only the right thing”.

I could only thank my teachers who had tattooed that habit upon me, and taught me that only good begets good. It is a habit that has protected me always.

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Higher Suffering

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Stuck in the heavy traffic due to rains, I tried to remain calm. The cellphone kept on ringing, patients who were waiting, those who wanted appointments, those who were to catch their ride out of station anxiously asked when will I reach. Some lost patience and raised voice. In addition, there were calls about the patients admitted in the hospital: critical decisions to be made, idiotic questions by insurance companies to be replied to. There were huge processions, the traffic was diverted, without any arrangements for ambulances. Impatient, aggressive and violent people is a reality on almost all Indian roads now. No one cares for law on the road. You are at the mercy of anyone who chooses to pick up a fight with you.

There were some issues at home too, the cook had called in sick, we had to do some emergency cooking. That had delayed my start.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

At last, an hour late, I reached the OPD, and entered running. Faces with controlled anger greeted with cultured politeness. Prepared for bitter comments, I called in the first patient.

This was a free patient, she did not need a follow up. But being free, she visits almost religiously every month, whenever she has a fight with her husband. Sometimes, when the only guaranteed compassion is from a doctor, it can be misused. However, as I was late, I decided to respect their patience, and told them to visit a counselor. Nevertheless, my irritation heightened, that this added to the wait of other patients.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I certainly am impatient with meaningless waste of time, and sometimes the traffic, the sudden changes in schedules due to someone’s irresponsible behavior, and misuse of compassionate services bring me to the edge of a reaction. This was one such moment. My face must have become grim.

The next patient walked in, an elderly gentleman with Parkinson’s disease. He was accompanied by his wife. They were supposed to come back three months later, but had followed up early. I examined him, found him quite stable neurologically, but the usual twinkle in his eyes was absent. Even his usually smiling wife appeared lost. It must be the traffic, my late arrival or something likewise, I thought, and curbed my curiosity to ask them. Today was heavy and behind schedule, I must wind up fast. Yet, as I explained them that everything was stable and alright, that they need not worry, I noticed the unspoken uneasiness in their body language. A little reluctantly but keeping up with the expectation of my own heart, I asked them: “You look quite disturbed and stressed. Is anything the matter? I am sorry I came late today”.

“No, no doctor, it’s not that. But yes, he is stressed and disturbed said the wife, and looked inquisitively towards her husband. ”Shall I tell him?” she asked.

Looking down, hiding his face, the husband nodded.

“Doctor, we lost our only son ten only days ago. Someone killed him on the road. Some drunk goons dashed his car from behind, and when he got down to check the damage, they attacked him and hit him on the head with some rods. He was lying on the road for a long time, and by the time police took him to the hospital, he was gone. We came to know after a few hours. He was our only child, an engineering scholar who had returned to India with great dreams .”

The lady was silently weeping as she kept her emotions in control. The patient was sobbing, I called the receptionist to get a glass of water.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“We have done so much for our town and the society” said the patient, “but now I feel it was all useless. No one is safe even on the roads. We see so many rules and laws broken, so many violent and aggressive people that it has become difficult to question anyone even when they misbehave”.

I had no words to pacify them. What can pacify the parents of a dead child, that too a victim lawlessness?

The receptionist called “Sir, the next patient is shouting” she said.

“Five minutes” I requested her.

“You are busy, doc, we will leave. But I brought him here only because he feels better when he meets you. Once you reassure him, he will feel a little secure. Even I feel better when I see you. Otherwise we sit at home just staring at each other’s sunken souls. We have no relatives”.

That was a bitter eye opener to me. They had chosen me to be their lifeline in the worst times of their life, and here I was, thinking about my worries, my time, and the inevitable small happenings that block the path of every working person every day. I had momentarily ignored the fact that I must still enter the hospital with a smile, push behind myself all the negatives that pull me down. For every patient here to see me comes with a hundred fears and a thousand expectations, the least I can do for them is be compassionate and reassuring, whatever may have happened till that moment.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“You may see many patients in a day and listen to their troubles, doc, but you are the only doctor your patient meets in a long time. I don’t know about you, but we always feel good when we see you”. The wife added.

Yes, I had heard that earlier, in my teacher’s cabin. Once a patient develops trust in his / her doctor, they look upon the doctor as one of the most reliable resource for courage, compassion and troubleshooting, even beyond the expertise of that doctor. As doctors, we must never forget this, and stand up tall above all our personal problems to be the supermen and superwomen, the Messiahs, the Saviors that we are expected to be. Law and some idiots do push a stick in our wheels, but then the patient is far above both. A patient’s suffering is always far above that of any doctor.

I stood up, held the patient’s hand, and reassured them: that they do have a relative here in Pune. “According to the Pune tradition”, I said, “one should offer tea only when the guests are half out of the door, but I will make an exception today .”

Having them sit in the next empty room, I proceeded with the OPD. Ordering tea for everyone in the OPD waiting room, I stole a few more minutes to calm the ruffled souls of those two, and asked them to see me again, whenever they wished.

As I returned late after dark, even through the rainy night, a sweet moonlight made the raindrops glow. Just like every doctor brings back the smiles to the burning hearts of their patients!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

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

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

“You must respect the authority “ the court said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The doctor said

“Yes Milord, but the real answers will hurt:

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

“A culture of exploitation of non-votebank groups

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

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

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

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

The shocked judge requested the doctor to examine him.

“He is no more” said the doctor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(C) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Changing Blood Group

The Changing Blood Group

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“He is sinking” shouted Dr. Siya.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sonography was thankfully normal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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“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
 
Please share unedited.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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

Please share unedited.

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