Doctors and embarasments- a peek into doctors' lives

DOCTORS AND EMBARRASMENTS

“Whenever a ship goes into the sea, it has 3 questions to answer. One, why is it there in the first place? Two, how is it going to prevent itself from colliding with other ships?  And three, how is it going to prevent itself from sinking?”- C.S.Lewis.

That was a rainy afternoon in the noisy suburbs of Hyderabad. I was on my way to Mumbai for a writers’ workshop. In the jostle to get down an overcrowded bus, I fell down flat on the busy road that pumps through peak hour traffic. My father had been informed and the first question he posed on the whole ordeal was- “How can you fall from a bus being a doctor?” The question, I felt, ranged from being frivolous to frustrating. A stream of thought ensued that reminded me that doctors are not supermen. They are ordinary people with fussing, fretting, failings and frailties. They are not above instincts and impulses. They are not above the laws of gravity- as noted from my pathetic fall.

Not a week passes without pondering why I have chosen a profession that is so demanding. People come with great expectancy for a solution to their pain and suffering. Being a doctor does not need a part of you. It demands your whole self. That’s why I see doctors discussing fistula-in-ano over lunch and infected wounds over prayer meetings. I am no different. While having a shower, I wonder if the patient in bed no 6, is maintaining saturation. There is no time where you cannot expect to be called. After two consecutive days without batting an eyelid, you expect to hit the couch and a call comes asking-“Should Paracetemol be given twice or thrice daily?”

 In all the sacrifices we offer to practice this profession, we receive inspiration and fuel to go on- from the most unexpected of quarters. A patient who is inching to death makes a U-turn by evening rounds; people who were grumbling throughout, return to thank you for the good care; The joy of conducting a delivery will eclipse the entire cataclysmic episode that precedes it; School children wish you good morning each time they see you; Tea shop, saloon, chicken outlet- you are recognised everywhere; You do not have to stand in the queues; Railway reservations are easy; People give a standing ovation-“doctor saab ayehe. Rashta deejiye!”. Being a doctor is one of the noblest ways to get respect.

The family- both immediate and remote take pride in having a relative as a doctor, as if they have mutated him into some superior species or have constructed an Android robot.  In a nation like ours, doctors are demi-gods. They should know it all, do it all. people have a subconscious protocol regarding a doctor (who gives them that idea, no one knows!).  You must always tuck in (as if a clear waist line will help diagnose better). You must always wear shoes (as if having better sole protection enhances cerebral circulation). You should not laugh and a good sense of humour is looked down with disdain (as if doctors are monks in white coats- too serious to be tickled by funny pranks.). You must not catch cold and if you do, your credibility is at risk (as if doctors have an immunity of steel. In fact iatrogenic exposure makes them more prone to them). The most outrageous of all is doctors must maintain distance- from all people who are non-doctors. Often a doctor marrying a non-medical person will attract a comment- “I don’t think it is a good deal”.

The more I work in the wards, the more I realise the limitations of being a doctor. We cannot solve all puzzles. We cannot heal all diseases. People sometimes have problems to which we don’t have answers and there is an iota of embarrassment to confess it. Sometimes a pill has an answer. Some other time it may only be an assurance- a smile, a hug that may ease suffering. Initially when I was given responsibility of the ward, my goal was zero deaths and 100% cure. Now I am inclined to think that it is a mistake. We are meant more to give love than display our knowledge. A dying patient teaches more than a hundred textbooks. That must not breed complacency but must factor in realities. So a doctor who treats a person will always win no matter what the outcome.

 Each profession is important in its own way. Being a doctor is just like being an engineer, a teacher, a writer, an artist. The difference, of course, is that in other jobs we work with machines, bolts, papers and paints. Doctors deal with lives and its issues. They are expected to be perfect, successful and efficient. They are desired to live by the rules book. But doctors are also human. They have crying children, grumbling spouses, sneering peers and throttling competition. The factor that can propel us to what we ought to be, is probably the realisation of why we are there in the first place. For me, I have discovered that medicine is my calling. And it is here that God has placed me. I do not bother about what people expect out of me, but what He wants me to do. That eases pressure, lowers burden, improves efficiency and soothes failure if any. Then crumpled shirt or Allen Solly, Lotus Bawa or Hawai slippers does not make any difference.