Good Health, wise folks say, is the key to all happiness.
But the quest for it, in modern times in Indian metro cities, is a lot of cost, misery & unending confusion.
Let me give you a background of how my thought processes of the medical kind have gotten muddled over the years. I come from a family with many doctors. My maternal grandfather used to be a government doctor in interior Assam during the fifties and sixties. He used to deliver babies in damp outhouses, cycle to stitch up bear clawed tribal folk and come back after his evening tea to stitch up an entire family of peasants, who decided to take swipes with each other with daggers during a drunken brawl. My mother and uncles, as kids, remember peeking into all kinds of mangled people who would bite into their own wrists to keep from screaming out in pain,as huge needles would dig into them without anesthesia. My grandmother would often fill in as nurse when the nurse was off duty, and the doctor never was.
My grandfather also handled entire cholera hit districts by himself, till a city doctor would rush in. There would be the occasional malaria epidemic and the dreaded small pox to deal with from time to time.
My mother's elder sister and her husband, skilled medical practitioner and surgeon respectively, gave up lucrative private nursing home jobs to take up civil hospital jobs in Assam. So far, their names have at times been revered, or dragged into the mud, depending on the civil administration's responsiveness to a district's medical emergencies. Poignant moments like a villager overcome with gratitude having made the 10 kilometer trek to see Dr Anjali Goswami and gift her three chickens (for he wouldn't have money) are scenes we have witnessed during summer vacations. Dr Goswami today heads a WHO project in Tezpur, Assam and works about 14 hours a day, having travelled about 2 hours to the spot, for mass medical health projects, and is close to 60. Dr Pradip Kalita (her husband) is still the rare breed of surgeon who can be woken up at any hour to operate on a patient in the poorly equipped civil hospital. He too is close to 60.
Hereditary diseases are fairly common in my family. I myself have two of those. But our family doctors would shrug them off, and say, discipline yourself, carry on, life goes on.
I have always found the medical profession nobel enough to think as a child that if I ever get into an arranged marriage, I would choose a doctor. Theirs is the only job I thought was by nature, nobel. (Surprisingly enough, I never thought of an MBA or an engineer with plush pays, as I envisaged that life to be very predictable. And while many who know me won't believe this, I do have a nobel streak in me.)
I assume that's why I find my current medical predicament very difficult to digest. Each time I feel lethargic or get any other symptom of my hypothyroid condition, I immediately traipse offf on an empty stomach to get my blood tests done. Then I go find my doctor, practising in a plush, air conditioned, as sterilised as a German torture chamber clinic during World War 2.. And the conversation usually goes like this:
Doctor: (Brooding) Show me your latest report?
I: (Meekly hand out report)
Doctor: (Raises one eyebrow) Hmmm.....Show me your last report.
I: (Meekly repeat action)
Doctor: (Deep brooding, eyebrows nearly meet.)
Show me your Lipid Profile, both latest and the past one.
I:( Hand out both.)
I also repeated my blood sugar levels, but looks fine.
Doctor: I think your thyroid is abnormal again.
I : I know that. But why?
Doctor: Are you drinking and eating a lot? Are you staying up late, partying? And is work pressure rising?
I: No. No. And nothing abnormal there.
Doctor: Hmm....Stress. I guess stress is the trigger. I think stress, yeah that's it. I am raising your dose by 25 mcg.
I to myself : Keep quiet. Fume internally. I've dealt with thyroid for 20 years and this idiot has too, for 5 years! Somebody please tell me why am I paying this overpaid bugger?
Doctor: I think you need to repeat your LFT, vitamin B 12 tests and yada yada yada yada.
I : But I've done these tests a zillion times each time I walk in here. Can't there be any other reason for the worsening health ?
Doctor :(Shrugs his shoulders) I dont think I can say without the tests. So.....What else is up with you?
I leave the chamber. And two days later, I head to a dermatologist.
She recommends a change in my doctor, medicines worth 2000 bucks, another visit in a week's time and some follow up quasi-cosmetic treatments. All in the name of healing.
And before, I head to yet another one of this 'nobel' calling, I try to work a few questions out.
When my grand dad was a practising doctor, a single touch of his hand on the liver could detect jaundice. And that's just an example. Most times, my grandpa used to detect diseases by clinical prognosis. There were no fancy laboratories to take blood, urine and skin samples, neither were there endicrinologists, super specialists, urologists, and god knows, how many tongue twisting specialists. Most patients would heal, and almost all would return even after private clinics came up.
I have seen a similar trend in the earlier years in my aunt's medical career. Patients in civil hospitals of Assam often can't afford a host of blood tests. But they do get better. Why else would they bring medieval style gifts in kind so often to repay the doctor?
Each time, a new doctor is recommended to me today, I am praying that he will listen to my problem,instead of launching into a lecture on stress related menaces of modern urban living. Each time, I am also checking my bank balance to determine if there is enough money to pay for the tests pre and post three to four diagnostic visits.
Recently, when my father was suddenly ordered to get a pacemaker put in 8 years post a massive heart attack in Dibrugarh Medical College, I was frightened out of my wits. But then, the expertise, patience and sincerity of Dr Hem Kalita, the local cardiology head, and the follow ups by the over worked, smiling interns straight out of this government medical college, cured my dad. And re assured me and my brother that, despite the lack of air conditioning, in room pedicures & a menu of patient food to pick from, he was in safe hands.
Perhaps, I am not alone in hoping that today's uber decorated medical practitioners look within someday between their tennis lessons & multiple seminars in five star resorts. Theirs is a profession meant to bring the healing touch. They chose tedious studies & sleepless nights so that patients could go home finding hope. Perhaps, its time to go back to their roots. Or an easier alternate : change the title from Dr to businessman.
I feel my grand dad will be shaking his head in approval of this post today. And that, heals me a lot more than the previous three over priced medical visits.
But the quest for it, in modern times in Indian metro cities, is a lot of cost, misery & unending confusion.
Let me give you a background of how my thought processes of the medical kind have gotten muddled over the years. I come from a family with many doctors. My maternal grandfather used to be a government doctor in interior Assam during the fifties and sixties. He used to deliver babies in damp outhouses, cycle to stitch up bear clawed tribal folk and come back after his evening tea to stitch up an entire family of peasants, who decided to take swipes with each other with daggers during a drunken brawl. My mother and uncles, as kids, remember peeking into all kinds of mangled people who would bite into their own wrists to keep from screaming out in pain,as huge needles would dig into them without anesthesia. My grandmother would often fill in as nurse when the nurse was off duty, and the doctor never was.
My grandfather also handled entire cholera hit districts by himself, till a city doctor would rush in. There would be the occasional malaria epidemic and the dreaded small pox to deal with from time to time.
My mother's elder sister and her husband, skilled medical practitioner and surgeon respectively, gave up lucrative private nursing home jobs to take up civil hospital jobs in Assam. So far, their names have at times been revered, or dragged into the mud, depending on the civil administration's responsiveness to a district's medical emergencies. Poignant moments like a villager overcome with gratitude having made the 10 kilometer trek to see Dr Anjali Goswami and gift her three chickens (for he wouldn't have money) are scenes we have witnessed during summer vacations. Dr Goswami today heads a WHO project in Tezpur, Assam and works about 14 hours a day, having travelled about 2 hours to the spot, for mass medical health projects, and is close to 60. Dr Pradip Kalita (her husband) is still the rare breed of surgeon who can be woken up at any hour to operate on a patient in the poorly equipped civil hospital. He too is close to 60.
Hereditary diseases are fairly common in my family. I myself have two of those. But our family doctors would shrug them off, and say, discipline yourself, carry on, life goes on.
I have always found the medical profession nobel enough to think as a child that if I ever get into an arranged marriage, I would choose a doctor. Theirs is the only job I thought was by nature, nobel. (Surprisingly enough, I never thought of an MBA or an engineer with plush pays, as I envisaged that life to be very predictable. And while many who know me won't believe this, I do have a nobel streak in me.)
I assume that's why I find my current medical predicament very difficult to digest. Each time I feel lethargic or get any other symptom of my hypothyroid condition, I immediately traipse offf on an empty stomach to get my blood tests done. Then I go find my doctor, practising in a plush, air conditioned, as sterilised as a German torture chamber clinic during World War 2.. And the conversation usually goes like this:
Doctor: (Brooding) Show me your latest report?
I: (Meekly hand out report)
Doctor: (Raises one eyebrow) Hmmm.....Show me your last report.
I: (Meekly repeat action)
Doctor: (Deep brooding, eyebrows nearly meet.)
Show me your Lipid Profile, both latest and the past one.
I:( Hand out both.)
I also repeated my blood sugar levels, but looks fine.
Doctor: I think your thyroid is abnormal again.
I : I know that. But why?
Doctor: Are you drinking and eating a lot? Are you staying up late, partying? And is work pressure rising?
I: No. No. And nothing abnormal there.
Doctor: Hmm....Stress. I guess stress is the trigger. I think stress, yeah that's it. I am raising your dose by 25 mcg.
I to myself : Keep quiet. Fume internally. I've dealt with thyroid for 20 years and this idiot has too, for 5 years! Somebody please tell me why am I paying this overpaid bugger?
Doctor: I think you need to repeat your LFT, vitamin B 12 tests and yada yada yada yada.
I : But I've done these tests a zillion times each time I walk in here. Can't there be any other reason for the worsening health ?
Doctor :(Shrugs his shoulders) I dont think I can say without the tests. So.....What else is up with you?
I leave the chamber. And two days later, I head to a dermatologist.
She recommends a change in my doctor, medicines worth 2000 bucks, another visit in a week's time and some follow up quasi-cosmetic treatments. All in the name of healing.
And before, I head to yet another one of this 'nobel' calling, I try to work a few questions out.
When my grand dad was a practising doctor, a single touch of his hand on the liver could detect jaundice. And that's just an example. Most times, my grandpa used to detect diseases by clinical prognosis. There were no fancy laboratories to take blood, urine and skin samples, neither were there endicrinologists, super specialists, urologists, and god knows, how many tongue twisting specialists. Most patients would heal, and almost all would return even after private clinics came up.
I have seen a similar trend in the earlier years in my aunt's medical career. Patients in civil hospitals of Assam often can't afford a host of blood tests. But they do get better. Why else would they bring medieval style gifts in kind so often to repay the doctor?
Each time, a new doctor is recommended to me today, I am praying that he will listen to my problem,instead of launching into a lecture on stress related menaces of modern urban living. Each time, I am also checking my bank balance to determine if there is enough money to pay for the tests pre and post three to four diagnostic visits.
Recently, when my father was suddenly ordered to get a pacemaker put in 8 years post a massive heart attack in Dibrugarh Medical College, I was frightened out of my wits. But then, the expertise, patience and sincerity of Dr Hem Kalita, the local cardiology head, and the follow ups by the over worked, smiling interns straight out of this government medical college, cured my dad. And re assured me and my brother that, despite the lack of air conditioning, in room pedicures & a menu of patient food to pick from, he was in safe hands.
Perhaps, I am not alone in hoping that today's uber decorated medical practitioners look within someday between their tennis lessons & multiple seminars in five star resorts. Theirs is a profession meant to bring the healing touch. They chose tedious studies & sleepless nights so that patients could go home finding hope. Perhaps, its time to go back to their roots. Or an easier alternate : change the title from Dr to businessman.
I feel my grand dad will be shaking his head in approval of this post today. And that, heals me a lot more than the previous three over priced medical visits.
Now healthcare and education is a booming business. Once you set your foot in the hospital, you'll be asked to take all possible tests even when you go for a small fever. When the doctor is provided with your reports, he gets confused (Too much of information is no good anywhere.
ReplyDeletePresence of a single cancer cell in your report confirms you've cancer, but its absence doesn't say that you're cancer free- read it recently :)