Fill My Heart, My Soul

A look, a wink and a smile,

A grin, a twirl and a twinkle.

A laugh that fills my heart, my soul.

A word, a phrase and a note,

A smiley, a picture and an emoji,

A letter that fills my heart, my soul.

A key, a beat and a chime,

A note, a bar and a lyric,

A song that fills my heart, my soul.

A request, a line and a couplet

A sentence, a paragraph and a page,

A prayer that harbors my heart, my soul.

You'll Never Finish The Course

It took me two and a half years and a pep talk from my mother the night before my pathology paper to understand this fact of life. 

I was freaking out that night, completely totally freaked out. And I couldn't really make a very big deal about it because my roommate was giving her FINAL PROF EXAMS. Hence the call to my gold medallist, obstetrician and gynaecologist mother. The lady who has given all my exams before I have, both literally and in her dreams. So I call her up, and very quietly (everyone around is studying) let her know about my freaked out status. 

And she says, "Are you a genius?" Me- "No". "Are you an idiot/ moron?" Me (fingers crossed)- "No." Ma-"The genius has the ability to finish the course. The idiot (by definition) thinks that he has. Since, my dear daughter, you are neither, you are never going to finish the course." 

And, since that cold night, in January of 2006, this has been one of  the mantras of my life- YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO FINISH THE COURSE.

Now, the problem with this mantra is that the course in question is MEDICINE. Medical doctor. M.B.B.S. and then M.D. / M.S. and then, if you are still inclined (masochistically maybe) D.M./M.Ch. So, you did not finish the course. Is that the reason your gonna tell your patient why you could not diagnose at the first shot? 'Coz you couldn't read that chapter 'coz you ran out of time? Certainly not. You ask him to come back with his reports. And you go home, and start reading or rather, continue reading more. Textbooks, journals, online discussions. Whatever you can get your hands on. Because you swore that you would help your fellow human being. You would help him/her get better. And when you can't, you feel so damn helpless. And you can't blame it on the damn course.

But, how do you explain this feeling to a kid who wants to be a doctor? Actually, how do you explain this feeling to anyone who hasn't gone through the same thing? I can't. 

Disclaimer: The editors and the authors have done their best to provide accurate and up-to-date information. However, with ongoing research, medicine remains an ever changing field. The physician/clinician is advised to be acquainted with the latest information/ guidelines prior (to doing anything). Neither the author and editors or the publishers assumes any responsibility for any injury or damage to persons or property arising from this publication/ text. 

Every  medical text in existence comes with a disclaimer on the above lines. One has to keep oneself updated. The course, after all, keeps changing, getting added on to, subtracted from, multiplied and divided, differentiated and integrated and so on. End result? YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO FINISH THE COURSE.

People equate doctors to Gods. (I can see people making faces on reading that statement.) I have heard my patients saying it often enough to know that sometimes, it is true. And I have been wondering. Should I put up a disclaimer on the door of my operating room? I am not God. I am a human being who is going to do her best to get you through your operation comfortably, with minimal or no problems. I can not guarantee that all is going to be well. After all, life does not come with any guarantees. And, well, hell, I never could finish the course. 

It is no wonder that doctors are so frustrated now-a-days. I'm not surprised that Roshan's post went viral.( http://www.godyears.net/2015/05/why-i-will-never-allow-my-child-to.html ) I agree with pretty much everything he says. Since he was my senior during training, I have shared a few experiences too. 

The problematic thing about being a doctor is that the really good stuff can't be priced. It can't be measured in objective terms. 

The patient wakes up and asks, "Operation's is over? When did it happen? I didn't realise it." How do you (the anaesthesiologist) price the feeling of satisfaction those words give. Yay! I did a great job. No awareness, no pain, no problems. Yippee! Happy dancing all over (in my head , of course, I have to be dignified in front of the patient). Fifteen odd years of back breaking hard work summed up. So what if I never could finish the darn course. 

How on earth, do you valuate it? And how do you feel if someone says "it was just a little problem. Why do you want that much remuneration for it? Why do you want anything for it? You are supposed to provide selfless service." 

And, on the other hand, you have a patient who is crying because she has been pricked so many times to gain an intravenous access so that she gets her antibiotics and other drugs. Yet, she bravely allows you to put in a central line in  her neck. And as you are finishing up, she says, "I'll make a hand embroidered kurta for you. I do very nice embroidery. Tell me your favourite colour. I'll make the kurta in that colour for you." 

So thank you, my patient. Thank you for jerking me out of my frustration. For reminding me that sometimes the small stuff helps. For reminding me that while the life of a doctor in India is hard, irritating, inadequately financed, underpaid and overworked and  bureaucratically hampered, the patient getting better does make it all livable. 

So what if I didn't finish the course. 

The Difference Between Ignorance And Apathy

Today as they finished operating, the surgeons' of the patient I provided anesthesia to were not discussing her. They were discussing someone else. The same someone the people in my gym, trainers and gym goers, were talking about. 

Last night as I returned from dinner at Khan market at around 11:00 pm, a group of young people were running around the India Gate Circle, holding posters, surrounding a police car. Peacefully. Shouting slogans.  For the same person I heard people discussing today.

I confess..... I don't have the guts to talk about her.  I don't like knowing about her injuries. The physical ones that might heal or the mental ones that will probably not. I don't like to think about what her friend went through. The pain and anguish he felt. I can't bring myself to imagine what her family is feeling. Or whether they are too numb to feel anything right now. I can't pretend to understand what they are going through. 

I don't have the guts to offer my support to them........Because, frankly, I don't know how to support them. 

Ignorance is when you don't know. Apathy is when you don't care. 

So, am I ignorant or apathetic?

 

Or am I just too scared. 

Too scared to get on the bus to go home. Because- IT'S A BUS. And IT'S DARK IN DELHI AFTER 5:45PM. 

Too scared of the feeling of sheer helplessness. 

Too scared because, being a doctor, I know what those injuries mean. 

Or am I in Denial? 

A step in the grieving process.

Grief for a life wrecked. A family put through hell. Friendships put through agonizing pain.

If it is grief.... then, I pray to God.... The next step please, Dear Lord, let it be anger. Let the anger come and come fast. 

Let The Great Lord Shiv open his Third Eye and destroy the Demons who have wrecked this little girl's life. Please Lord Vishnu, now is the time for you to take your last Avtaar. Because "Kalyug" is at its height. No girl is safe. Every lady is at risk. No child can play in the open without its parents being worried for its safety. No person can rest assured until each and every family member is back home from work or school or college or a walk or the market. 

But, until you do come, Dear Lord. We will try. We will try to help. We have to. We can't just sit at home, in front of our computers or over a drink and talk about what a horrible thing it is. We have to make a solution. 

Stop cribbing about our rights and lack theroff.

Remember our DUTIES. And perform them.

It is our duty to respect our fellow human beings irrespective of sex.

It is our duty to allow each person their private space, literally and figuratively, in a public place or in a private home.  

It is our duty to allow every girl child to be born. To live. To develop to the best of her abilities and more 

It is our duty to be damn proud of her.

It is our duty to ensure that she walks free. Not scared. Not bowed down. But, Tall and Happy.

It is our duty to stop an evil act from happening. However small or insignificant it might appear to be. Because it is the little things that sum up to become huge.

It is a small list that I have written. But, hopefully it will be a start. Hopefully it'll soon become much, much longer. Hopefully.......

  Being Me

I met you for the first time,

And I liked what I saw,

I wanted to be your friend,

So I tried to change what I was.

I did my very best,

To be who you wanted me to be.

And, maybe, I did succeed,

Because you became a great friend to me.

But as I grew up and saw more of the world,

Who I had become appealed to me no more,

So I tried to become better,

To become who I wanted to be,

But you fought this change every time you met me.

I didn’t understand what was happening,

And I tried to explain.

Why I had changed,

Why I was no longer exactly who you wanted me to be.

I wish you had listened,

I wish you had seen,

My heart and soul that wanted to be free,

And then you would have realized

That I had become me.