Tag Archives: violence

The Parceled Sandwiches

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very Sorry to know” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Medical License to Kill

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Nursing Super smiled in shame.

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

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

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

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

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

Jai Hind!

Mahatma Gandhi ki Jay!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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Illegal Heroes

Illegal Heroes

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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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
 
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The Price Of Love

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He tied her to the pole, abusing and insulting her.
Wielding a knife in his hand, he slapped her once more. “You are supposed to be the honest one” he shouted, “I am a man. You were talking with our neighbour. What did you say to him? Did you two fix up a place to meet secretly?” he was trembling with anger.
She looked into his eyes, and replied “Don’t you talk to other women? Doesn’t your mother talk to other men? Do you always talk about that? I was asking him about his sick wife”.
Pulling her by her hair, he said menacingly in her ears: “Look, don’t compare yourself to me. I am a man. You are supposed to be the one who gives up everything for me. Do you think I don’t know how ‘those’ women behave? You have chosen to marry me. I can do what I want”. She didn’t reply. What could she say to a paranoid, suspicious person who had one way communication? The option of violence wasn’t open for her.
As it became dark, his mood changed. He started speaking soft and sweet. He untied her from the post so she could cook. She could not eat well, the humiliation and insults, the allegations and violence wreaking havoc in her mind.
Silence fell upon the dark. The next day’s work awaited her at dawn, so she skipped the sobbing and tried to sleep.
“Make love to me” he ordered. She tried to comply.
He raised his voice “It should come from the bottom of your heart. Don’t pretend. Love me madly, deeply, and let it show in your action”.
Silently, she replied “I can’t. The only one thing that could have made me truly love you was true love from you too”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
This is the current scenario between the society and the good medical professional today.
Take for granted that the whole medical profession is one’s slave. Make allegations at every possible opportunity. Be suspicious and paranoid. Hold a doctor guilty for any news anywhere without logical enquiry. Make them overwork under the sacrifice tag. Disrespect them, beat them up, ask them questions as if talking to criminals. Presume every other doctor and every big hospital is a fraud.
Then, when one has a health problem, expect them to be truly, deeply compassionate, loving angels who will do the best because they are married to their principles of being good and kind to everyone.
If you expect the doctor to be truly nice and kind and compassionate to you, to make best decisions for you, ask yourself if you deserve that. No amount of money will buy you a doctor’s love and respect, no amount of hateful criticism or threats will compel your doctor to be compassionate.
A doctor’s real fees is the respect and trust you place in him / her. No amount of money is worth the value of your life. Pay with suspicion, threat and disrespect, and you destroy the compassion you truly deserve.
The doctor-patient trust is a coin with two sides, one side cannot be blank.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

PS: I know the word “exaggeration”. Learnt it from some movies and TV shows that criticise doctors.

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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