Doctors & Friends - I
What would this world be without doctors??
A lot sicker than it already is!
My first memory of doctors is from a time when I was 4 yrs old. We used to live in the outskirts of a sleepy coffee and orange growing hamlet called Mercara in the beautiful Kodagu district of Karnataka. Everyone that came to visit us had to give a toll fee to enter the hallowed hallways of Chez baby Chay, especially if they wanted to pinch her cheeks while making cute noises and be spared a painful finger bite. The toll fee was Cadbury’s chocolate. And since I was such a cute and cute baby, I was pampered rotten!! The results as you can expect was decay in my cute baby teeth. So at the age of 4, when I was on vacation at Chez Ammachi in another sleepy hamlet called Aruvankadu near Ooty, I got up one night screaming in pain and my poor grandparents got frightened. The very next morning carted me off to the dentist in Coonoor along with my mother, my doctor Chitti (aunty) and her very new husband, who were also on vacation. After some mood enhancing medications (…ahem!!) and a quick extraction, the dentist packed me off. I thought he was the nicest person ever, coz he said I could have ice-cream. The blood soaked piece of cotton in the back of my mouth sure tasted funny, but I was one happy kid that day!!
My grandparents lived right across the hospital in Aruvankadu. My Chitti worked there. And to control my soopeer-hyper mischievous cute self, I was threatened with many oosis and the like (oosi=injection/shot). And then there was that dreadful nursery rhyme that Sister Dorothy forced us to learn in my school in Mercara –
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….
…..you get the drift right!!!!
I lived with grandparents for a bit and our frequent visitors were Dr. Rao and Dr. Reena and all of other doctors who used to drop in every other evening for a cup of tea. They were colleagues of Chitti and enjoyed our unique family with old people, a very young ‘people’ and plenty of love, tea, varki and conversation. Each evening Thatha regaled them with stories from his days in the Navy and Ammachi had stories from her day at the school.
By now, I was petrified of doctors. The moment I heard the familiar voices and greetings, I would run from whichever corner of the house I was playing pranks from, straight to the toilet at the back of the house and lock myself in there. When summoned I would refuse to come out….after much coaxing I would finally come out, say a quick hello and then run off again.
The final straw came when the same Chitti got pregnant and had the first baby I ever took care of. (That baby is now doing her Masters in NYU…how time flies by) By now, I also hated hospitals, the smell of phenyle and dettol, doctors and nurses….anything medicine. When the baby got sick, I refused to go with Ammachi. When I got sick I went….kicking and screaming all the way from the toilet to the doctor’s room. And after settling down, I told Dr. Reena, “If you have to give me medicines, please give me only benadryl or vicodin. Those are the only ones that taste nice. And please don’t forget succee” I was hooked to vitamin c even as a kid!! One time I had to be given a shot, and I was so brave about it in front of the doctor…and when I got home, I screamed for hours at least, claiming it hurt!!
Just within my immediate family there are 4 nursing homes, 10 cousins who are doctors, 1 who is in med school, 3 nieces/nephews in med school, 2 vets, 2 dentists, 1 uncle who is a doctor, 1 aunty who is a doctor, and 2 uncles who were doctors and who longer are alive. Some of my best friends are doctors and they are all over the world now. I am not even mentioning family friends now.
And how can I forget hospitals? Apart from the times when my grandparents were in the hospital (for very long durations), my ma had 2 surgeries, both of which left me in the hospital corridors for a month each time. My dad had some heart trouble…again a month or so hospital time. I was barely 15, and being the only child, I had to do quite a bit. That’s when I completely got over my fear of hospitals & doctors. Since then I have always had fabulous relationships with all my doctors, and there’s quite a few of them, both here and in India. I think I got my best training when my dear husband had to do a rather long hospital stay…it lasted a few months and I knew everyone in that big hospital, right from the security guards to the Director. I developed such good friendships, learnt so much and cherish each of them.
My respect for nurses increased tremendously as I watched them take care of patient after patient. The ayahs and maids thought nothing before changing soiled sheets or helping patients with bed pans and the like. And yet they are the least appreciated. They are not even respected. I did feel badly for the doctors. At the end of each day, I could see some of them – tired, exhausted, almost giving up on their desire to bring healing. The ones that seemed toughest in the ICUs and wards were the ones I saw sobbing in secret. Some were always happy – seemingly calm, and in the privacy of their cabins, they would tell me of their fears. Most people say hospitals are depressing, that the constant sights and smells of ailments and death bother them. I never felt that way. Even when faced with the possibility of the death of my husband of 10 months, I could not feel depressed. How could I?? All around me I saw people who steeled themselves and went about with a smile in the face of obvious agony.
I am so glad I am not a doctor. I am glad & thankful however, that I don’t flinch when I see sick people….even those that are very sick. I surprised myself when at this same hospital I was compelled to make visits to the general wards every day to meet with patients. I would chat them up, hold their hands, pray with them, and read to them…shush crying babies, comfort grieving families. I just had to do it…there was no way I could sit still. Those days were somehow very comforting….to be able to comfort someone in pain, is one of the nicest gifts one can receive. Someday I hope to be able to do it again.
While most people become doctors for all the right reasons, somewhere along the way, priorities change. Visions of bringing healing to the poor and downtrodden (great answers at interviews and such!) are traded for visions of wealth and luxury. I recently spoke with a young doctor, who has made a conscious choice to stay in a remote area in India. While his classmates and buddies trot the globe and make careers for themselves, he chose to follow the dictates of his heart. He will soon be made the director of a small hospital that serves thousands in the area. He has so many challenges to face – political, financial, lack of resources, doctors, equipment and what not. And I am so proud of him…He was mentioning about how so many doctors are not respected even by other doctors, just because they choose to work in rural areas and not go abroad and make it big. Sooner or later, many of them get disillusioned and quit. They get tired of the endless battles against a corrupt system and join a corporate hospital in the city. I don’t blame them…the system is sick…and there is no known medicine or treatment. But at least they tried!! And to my good friend – you know who you are….I am so proud of you!! Never mind the mockers and the jeerers, the world is full of them anyway. What the world does not have enough of are people like you….and we need more.
Another such doctor is my cousin Harsha. He read med school books while still in high school. I could not stand him when I was younger simply because our parents always compared us. He somehow was always everyone’s favorite, because he had his nose in school books and I had mine in everything else. Harsha is now a doctor, his brother is a doctor somewhere in Leeds and his sister is an intern at med school. I am so proud of them all….particularly of Harsha…he chose to remain in my hometown, tend his and my ancestral orchards and simultaneously run a hospital in a nearby village. It’s the only hospital in a radius of some 40 kms. Last year he almost got killed because he caught something while treating a minor epidemic in the area, but he is still going strong. I am so proud of all the doctors who after 5 years of sweat and toil, did not give up on the ones that need their expertise urgently.
For all my fear of doctors and hospitals, as much as I ran way from it all, I find myself drawn to the world of medicine and healing. I don’t read up medical journals and pay much attention to major breakthroughs….heck, I don’t even know the most common medical terms. I don’t watch hospital shows or medicine related reality shows on TV. Yet, these past few days, all I think of is hospitals and doctors….and all I think of is how I can help. What can I do??
I have been struggling with my lack of specificity in life. I am looking for a place to start living my dreams & purpose and I find myself lost in a foggy world between reality and potential . A friend suggested I write about what is dearest to me, what I believe in…and so I wrote this. Perhaps, I will find some answer soon…until then, I shall trek on.
And to all the doctors in my life….and to those in my virtual life as well – Thank You!! I do think you are God’s own workers tending His fields and healing His people. You make this world better and healthier. Thank You!!
I forgot the last lines in the nursery rhyme….
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….
Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now…
Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now
PS: I know this post took on a serious note towards the end…but it’s straight from my heart.
A lot sicker than it already is!
My first memory of doctors is from a time when I was 4 yrs old. We used to live in the outskirts of a sleepy coffee and orange growing hamlet called Mercara in the beautiful Kodagu district of Karnataka. Everyone that came to visit us had to give a toll fee to enter the hallowed hallways of Chez baby Chay, especially if they wanted to pinch her cheeks while making cute noises and be spared a painful finger bite. The toll fee was Cadbury’s chocolate. And since I was such a cute and cute baby, I was pampered rotten!! The results as you can expect was decay in my cute baby teeth. So at the age of 4, when I was on vacation at Chez Ammachi in another sleepy hamlet called Aruvankadu near Ooty, I got up one night screaming in pain and my poor grandparents got frightened. The very next morning carted me off to the dentist in Coonoor along with my mother, my doctor Chitti (aunty) and her very new husband, who were also on vacation. After some mood enhancing medications (…ahem!!) and a quick extraction, the dentist packed me off. I thought he was the nicest person ever, coz he said I could have ice-cream. The blood soaked piece of cotton in the back of my mouth sure tasted funny, but I was one happy kid that day!!
My grandparents lived right across the hospital in Aruvankadu. My Chitti worked there. And to control my soopeer-hyper mischievous cute self, I was threatened with many oosis and the like (oosi=injection/shot). And then there was that dreadful nursery rhyme that Sister Dorothy forced us to learn in my school in Mercara –
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….
…..you get the drift right!!!!
I lived with grandparents for a bit and our frequent visitors were Dr. Rao and Dr. Reena and all of other doctors who used to drop in every other evening for a cup of tea. They were colleagues of Chitti and enjoyed our unique family with old people, a very young ‘people’ and plenty of love, tea, varki and conversation. Each evening Thatha regaled them with stories from his days in the Navy and Ammachi had stories from her day at the school.
By now, I was petrified of doctors. The moment I heard the familiar voices and greetings, I would run from whichever corner of the house I was playing pranks from, straight to the toilet at the back of the house and lock myself in there. When summoned I would refuse to come out….after much coaxing I would finally come out, say a quick hello and then run off again.
The final straw came when the same Chitti got pregnant and had the first baby I ever took care of. (That baby is now doing her Masters in NYU…how time flies by) By now, I also hated hospitals, the smell of phenyle and dettol, doctors and nurses….anything medicine. When the baby got sick, I refused to go with Ammachi. When I got sick I went….kicking and screaming all the way from the toilet to the doctor’s room. And after settling down, I told Dr. Reena, “If you have to give me medicines, please give me only benadryl or vicodin. Those are the only ones that taste nice. And please don’t forget succee” I was hooked to vitamin c even as a kid!! One time I had to be given a shot, and I was so brave about it in front of the doctor…and when I got home, I screamed for hours at least, claiming it hurt!!
Just within my immediate family there are 4 nursing homes, 10 cousins who are doctors, 1 who is in med school, 3 nieces/nephews in med school, 2 vets, 2 dentists, 1 uncle who is a doctor, 1 aunty who is a doctor, and 2 uncles who were doctors and who longer are alive. Some of my best friends are doctors and they are all over the world now. I am not even mentioning family friends now.
And how can I forget hospitals? Apart from the times when my grandparents were in the hospital (for very long durations), my ma had 2 surgeries, both of which left me in the hospital corridors for a month each time. My dad had some heart trouble…again a month or so hospital time. I was barely 15, and being the only child, I had to do quite a bit. That’s when I completely got over my fear of hospitals & doctors. Since then I have always had fabulous relationships with all my doctors, and there’s quite a few of them, both here and in India. I think I got my best training when my dear husband had to do a rather long hospital stay…it lasted a few months and I knew everyone in that big hospital, right from the security guards to the Director. I developed such good friendships, learnt so much and cherish each of them.
My respect for nurses increased tremendously as I watched them take care of patient after patient. The ayahs and maids thought nothing before changing soiled sheets or helping patients with bed pans and the like. And yet they are the least appreciated. They are not even respected. I did feel badly for the doctors. At the end of each day, I could see some of them – tired, exhausted, almost giving up on their desire to bring healing. The ones that seemed toughest in the ICUs and wards were the ones I saw sobbing in secret. Some were always happy – seemingly calm, and in the privacy of their cabins, they would tell me of their fears. Most people say hospitals are depressing, that the constant sights and smells of ailments and death bother them. I never felt that way. Even when faced with the possibility of the death of my husband of 10 months, I could not feel depressed. How could I?? All around me I saw people who steeled themselves and went about with a smile in the face of obvious agony.
I am so glad I am not a doctor. I am glad & thankful however, that I don’t flinch when I see sick people….even those that are very sick. I surprised myself when at this same hospital I was compelled to make visits to the general wards every day to meet with patients. I would chat them up, hold their hands, pray with them, and read to them…shush crying babies, comfort grieving families. I just had to do it…there was no way I could sit still. Those days were somehow very comforting….to be able to comfort someone in pain, is one of the nicest gifts one can receive. Someday I hope to be able to do it again.
While most people become doctors for all the right reasons, somewhere along the way, priorities change. Visions of bringing healing to the poor and downtrodden (great answers at interviews and such!) are traded for visions of wealth and luxury. I recently spoke with a young doctor, who has made a conscious choice to stay in a remote area in India. While his classmates and buddies trot the globe and make careers for themselves, he chose to follow the dictates of his heart. He will soon be made the director of a small hospital that serves thousands in the area. He has so many challenges to face – political, financial, lack of resources, doctors, equipment and what not. And I am so proud of him…He was mentioning about how so many doctors are not respected even by other doctors, just because they choose to work in rural areas and not go abroad and make it big. Sooner or later, many of them get disillusioned and quit. They get tired of the endless battles against a corrupt system and join a corporate hospital in the city. I don’t blame them…the system is sick…and there is no known medicine or treatment. But at least they tried!! And to my good friend – you know who you are….I am so proud of you!! Never mind the mockers and the jeerers, the world is full of them anyway. What the world does not have enough of are people like you….and we need more.
Another such doctor is my cousin Harsha. He read med school books while still in high school. I could not stand him when I was younger simply because our parents always compared us. He somehow was always everyone’s favorite, because he had his nose in school books and I had mine in everything else. Harsha is now a doctor, his brother is a doctor somewhere in Leeds and his sister is an intern at med school. I am so proud of them all….particularly of Harsha…he chose to remain in my hometown, tend his and my ancestral orchards and simultaneously run a hospital in a nearby village. It’s the only hospital in a radius of some 40 kms. Last year he almost got killed because he caught something while treating a minor epidemic in the area, but he is still going strong. I am so proud of all the doctors who after 5 years of sweat and toil, did not give up on the ones that need their expertise urgently.
For all my fear of doctors and hospitals, as much as I ran way from it all, I find myself drawn to the world of medicine and healing. I don’t read up medical journals and pay much attention to major breakthroughs….heck, I don’t even know the most common medical terms. I don’t watch hospital shows or medicine related reality shows on TV. Yet, these past few days, all I think of is hospitals and doctors….and all I think of is how I can help. What can I do??
I have been struggling with my lack of specificity in life. I am looking for a place to start living my dreams & purpose and I find myself lost in a foggy world between reality and potential . A friend suggested I write about what is dearest to me, what I believe in…and so I wrote this. Perhaps, I will find some answer soon…until then, I shall trek on.
And to all the doctors in my life….and to those in my virtual life as well – Thank You!! I do think you are God’s own workers tending His fields and healing His people. You make this world better and healthier. Thank You!!
I forgot the last lines in the nursery rhyme….
tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining, tumach is paiiining jush now….
call the docta, call the docta, call the docta jush now…
injucshan, injucshan, injucshan, jush now…
oppalayshan, oppalayshan, oppalayshan, jush now….
Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now…
Iyam alight, Iyam alight, Iyam alight, jush now
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
thank you docta, thank you docta, thank you docta jush now….
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now
byebye docta, byebye docta, byebye docta, jush now
PS: I know this post took on a serious note towards the end…but it’s straight from my heart.
posted by Arpana Sanjay at 3:40 PM
4 Comments:
nice blog, chay! hope u find ur true calling soon :)
enig!
ditto to enig's comment...hope u find ur calling soon...:-))
Thanks Enigma and Buck!!
I hope I find my calling soon :-))
Lollz!!
Thanks EM and Ananthu...
:-))) Glad you like them pokers and cutters...;-)))
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