Title: From A Doctor’s Diary ( August, 2020)
I have been working as a medical doctor since 1999. This 20 years of my journey has become my joyride and I have enjoyed every moment of it. Even after so many years in the field, I am still enjoying it. My profession has become my passion. I can proudly brag that I have saved many lives both young and old but at times it is not always possible as I am not a god.
In our profession, we receive little appreciation and a lot of criticism even when we are doing our best. And we are very used to it and I would say it is a part and parcel of being a doctor in Nepal.
It was a cold December evening in 1999. Back then I was a new intern in Emergency Department of Bir Hospital, the oldest hospital in Nepal. I still remember that cold night very clearly. A lady was rushed as she was having severe abdominal pain. She was shouting and crying. Her tears were rolling down her cheeks and her black eyeliner was smudged all over her face. She was a bit obese. When I was examining her abdomen, she suddenly screamed that something was coming out from down under. I dragged the curtain and I could see a hairy mass coming out. In 10 minutes, she delivered a healthy boy. I was very happy but the lady and her husband were in shock as they were not expecting that. They were completely unaware of the pregnancy. And they cursed me so badly because I was the one who delivered the baby and they were saying this was my fault. Later I found out that in rare instances, the couple might be unaware of pregnancy till the baby is delivered and such a condition is called Crypto Pregnancy.
This kind of verbal abuse and cursing happens often in our work no matter how hard and compassionately you work. Sometimes we have to work 36 hours to 48 hours straight duties and we hardly get enough time to have proper meals or clean ourselves. I used to have waist-long hair which was my treasure. But managing my hair was a challenge. I cut my hair “boys cut” in one go. Boys-cut hair and without any makeup and in jeans, people often got confused with my gender. But these minor things did not bother me at all.
The things that bother me most are the loose comments that people pass on to us.
Whenever we go to a gathering or a party, the first thing people ask us is “Why are you late, and where is your briefcase filled with cash?”; or “Were you mending or printing money? “
How can I explain to a lady covered in yellow metal that I was busy raising funds for a child who has come from the very far village of Rasuwa and fighting for his life after he was hit by a truck? How can I make a guy in a tuxedo understand that I was trying to show a gasping boy a light at the end of the tunnel?
Will that complex couple understand that I was sitting with another distressed couple and was trying to show a ray of hope to them as their child was recently diagnosed with a lifelong condition called “ Autism”.
Thus most of the time me and my husband, who is also a doctor, sneak out from the party with a smile. Gradually we even started avoiding parties. We also want to enjoy, relax, and dance at the parties but someone just bumps in and drags me or my husband to one corner to discuss the medical condition he/she or their relatives are having and one of us is left alone in that crowd.
At times it gets so frustrating and irritating when people take us for granted. People just crash in while we are having dinner with family and they want a diagnosis for their kid instantly. They even do not think and show babies’ diapers to show the color of the stool while I am having the same colored “rahar ko daal” or yellow lentil soup. So what would be my reaction? Should I laugh or get angry? One mother called at 2:30 in the morning as she realized that her 3-year-old girl had not passed stool for 4 days and she had just found it out from her maid after she had returned from a nightclub. These are a few examples and they are a lot more.
But at times we feel so pinched and hurt when people say that we do not have feelings. Their comments like “How can a doctor get sick, or “You must be very used to death”. We have only one death and no one is used to it.
It is very common that we get calls multiple times a day when someone is sneezing or even farting a lot but when we get sick and lie in bed for more than a week, no one bothers because people say we can take care of ourselves. But just a call, asking how I am doing makes a lot of difference.
People think doctors are cold, stone-hearted, and tough. But I am not. I have cried several times but mostly inside. Once there was a mother who brought her 10-year-old son with a severe heart condition. We could not save him. Mother was so heartbroken and she was wailing and crying and I was holding her in my arms and we were crying together.
When I first met Kabir, he was 6 years old. He was continuously vomiting out blood and he was pleading with me “Doctor, save me”. That pleading still haunts me even after so many years. That time I just held him in my lap and comforted him with my wet eyes. We could save him that time. But his medical condition called Chronic Granulomatous Disease was not letting him enjoy his life. He had several episodes of serious infections. He left us when he was 12 years old. But I am happy to be his first crush. Recently one of my very close relatives passed away. He was on a ventilator for almost 20 days and when he passed I could not even cry my heart out as the rest of the family members were looking up to us to comfort them. I just had to sneak inside the bathroom and cry.
Whatever and how much we do we cannot save all lives as doctors are not angels though they do save lives sometimes when “ Yamaraj, God of Death” is not ready. We have the same number of 206 bones as anyone else and in our veins also run the similar red thick fluid.
