Skip to main content

The Delusion of Dignity

There are certain days in our lives, memories of which refuse to be blurred by time...these days remain etched in our memories clear as crystal,unsmudged..intact. For every medical graduate, the day they pass their Final Year MBBS examinations is one of those very days. For it is a celebration of the hardwork and sacrifices that each of them have to put in to be able to finally prefix "Dr." to their names...a privilege granted to a very select few.

For five and a half years, a medical student toils through his undergraduate course while his compatriots ,who are not in the medical field go on to complete their graduation and postgraduation and get settled into their jobs. It is not very unusual for a MBBS student to be attending the wedding of his/her friend from high school, who has just completed his MBA from a swanky B-school and whose parents proudly keep announcing their childs' pay package to anybody who cares to listen.

This is not an attempt to highlight or compare the pros/cons of being a doctor or the hardwork that goes into being one. I am sure everybody works very hard to be successful in their own respective fields, and just because an MBBS graduate puts in more years of his life studying does not in any way make the hardwork of other people any less significant. However, just as society equates the pay package of an individual with his success, why then, is a doctor looking to earn a living looked down upon?

A few weeks back, I went to visit a friend who had just had an operation. Other well wishers were also present, and as I had gone just as a friend, I didn't see any reason to parade the fact that I am a doctor. These people in the room were in a heated discussion about doctors and how "all doctors are thieves" and "nobody cares to listen to patients." I didn't offer any clarification, simply because I knew that this is a common notion by now.

I wonder how many people have ever tried to see things from a doctors perspective. Due to the abysmal condition of health sector in our country, the doctor patient ratio in India stands at approximately 1:1800. Simply put, one doctor is responsible for 1800 people. Government Hospitals are understaffed and overcrowded, with patients on the floors and corridors and doctors clocking in unimaginable work hours. Are the doctors really to blame for the pathetic situation? Every patient looks for compassionate treatment and the apathy at hospitals doesn't help, but why is the simple fact overlooked that it is equally difficult for the doctors to manage all the patients at once? Is it so wrong  to be tired and wanting to go home after being on duty continuosly for 24 hours? Of course, nobody really wonders on how much these doctors are paid, because doctors are meant for "service to mankind", and apparently,the satisfaction of treating patients well should be enough for them.

In my personal experience, there have been many instances where I have lost my patience at work. Drunk men (accompanying their drunk friend who crashed his bike) have leaned on my table and asked me for a "full body routine check up" in the middle of the night while I am on night duty all alone; people walking up to me and simply listing the free medicines they want "just in case" somebody is unwell at home; supposed patients faking illnesses just because their neighbour got free medicines by doing the same; young men in perfectly good health insisting I take their pulse while leering at me; people in the rural areas choosing to be examined by a Pharmacist rather than by me only because I am a female...In a profession where losing your temper automatically labels you as a "rude" and "bad" and "insensitive" doctor, the immediate urge to snap at such "patients" isn't always possible to curb.

At social gatherings, when someone asks me, "So..what do you do..?", I take a certain pride in telling them that I'm a doctor. But that balloon soon bursts when people shamelessly choose to tell me how corrupt doctors are and warn me not to fall prey to the lure of making money. I wholeheartedly agree that money should not be the only driving force for doctors, but is it criminal to want a comfortable and financially secure life just like everybody else?

Some may argue that its unethical to make a business out of healthcare. That doctors and hospitals take advantage of the desperation of patients to serve their purpose. It is undoubtedly morally questionable to examine a patient with the objective of making money rather than of treating him, but is this not a direct reflection of the condition of healthcare in our country rather than being simply a product of unabashed greed? With inhuman conditions for both patients and doctors in the Government sector, corporate hospitals have tapped the market and simply supplied the demand for better and comfortable healthcare,albeit at skyrocketing prices. With 190 of the 350 Medical Colleges in India being under the Private sector, the doctors end up paying astronomical amounts for their education. These young graduates look for opportunities to earn a quick buck in order to pay back the huge sums their families have invested in them. Is not the system at fault more than these doctors that are pushed to earn a living under financial liabilities?

In the world that we live in, nothing is black and white and everything is mostly grey. The stories of malpractice and cheating by doctors, doctors who encourage sex determination and subsequent abortions make me feel terribly ashamed,because these stories are not wholly untrue. But on the other hand, I can't help but wonder why the media never reports anything wrong happening with the medical fraternity with the same enthusiasm. Whether it be the fate of 1 lakh doctors hanging in the balance in 2012-13 thanks to a disastrous experiment called NEET or the various assault cases at medical colleges across the country where doctors are slapped (Maharashtra), assaulted (Delhi, Rajasthan, Assam) or even shot (very recently in Uttar Pradesh) ...these incidents go largely unnoticed, or at best...find a few lines of mention buried in the corners of the newspapers. Stories covering strikes at hospitals focus on how insensitive it is for doctors to be on strike as public health takes a blow, hardly anybody tries to find out the reason why the doctors went on strike in the first place.

Let me be very honest in saying that as a doctor who is yet to complete her specialisation, I may be too junior a person to be writing this. I have a long way to go, a lot more to learn,to experience. I still love my job and I still look forward to going to work at the hospital everyday. I have had patients giving me pumpkins and gourds off their farms as a mark of gratitude, women waiting outside my room in the Village health centre refusing to be checked by others and I have had the satisfaction of conducting deliveries of many healthy babies. It is this satisfaction that urges me to learn more and try and be a better doctor everyday. But going to work also means I need to be careful of how I say things to people, to be patient with intoxicated men deriliously hurling abuses at me and to make sure I carry the dignity and the responsibility of being a doctor well. However, of late, with increasing incidents of doctors being taken for granted going virtually unnoticed or worse, doctors being blamed for things out of their control, I can't help but be frustrated at the system that has put us in this situation.

It is never fair to generalise anything. All doctors may not be saints, but all aren't out to skin you alive for money either. Just as a patient expects compassion and support from the doctor, is it too much to ask for the patients trust in the doctors' intentions in return? Spare a thought for the doctors the next time you go to see one, maybe you'll discover they are not all that bad as people in general make them out to be.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Sisterhood of Medicine

"Sister, when will the Doctor be here?", asked a middle aged man. I turned from my examination table, where I was examining a six year old boy, and replied, " I am the doctor, how can I help you?". The man looked at me doubtfully - I was in a salwar kameez with my stethoscope around my neck - and repeated - " No but Sister, I need my child to be seen by a Doctor  Sir".   This is only one of the many incidents that I- as well as most of my young female colleagues at work- go through on a daily basis. Young female doctors get mistaken for nurses all the time, although the nursing staff always has a specific uniform. The young male doctors, however, do not encounter any such confusion. I have no idea whether I can label this as casual sexism or pure ignorance, but people across social and economic spectrums tend to address female doctors as "Sister" as opposed to "Madam". The men, however, get to be "Sir" throughout.  S

The Matter of the Root.

In a country where your name (more importantly, your surname) is more or less a reflection of your identity- from where you belong down to your caste and religion- imagine having a name that doesn't pin you down to a certain state or territory or region, even. Given that situation, I have now come to simply laugh off the surprised reactions I get when people realise I am Assamese. I have had colleagues who simply assumed I was Bengali for years,friends of friends enquiring which part of Delhi or Punjab I am from and even random aunties at weddings judging me for gorging on chicken because apparently, I am a Marwari! I usually laugh the whole thing off, sometimes even playing a guessing game with the people who seem hellbent on decoding where I actually am from. But somewhere at the back of my mind, over the years, a nagging question has kept building up in my mind--a question I have tried to answer very many times, although not very satisfactorily--- What does being an Assamese

The Saree and its Excess Baggage

As a lanky young girl in her late teens who first stepped into Medical School, I gawked in horror when I was told that I was supposed to wear sarees to classes for a month or so as part of the college tradition for all Freshers. That the whole saree thing was to be accompanied by drippingly oiled hair parted in the middle and braided with the ends tied with fluorescent orange and green ribbons is another story in itself, of course. But for the eighteen year old me, who didn't really care how she looked, the oiled hair wasn't an issue as much as the saree was - simply because I had absolutely no clue how to drape one.  Cut to a little over a decade later, as a newly married woman, the women of my husband's family and extended family are pleasantly surprised as to just how comfortably I drape my sarees, not requiring the help that was very generously offered by a bevy of aunts and sisters in law. Somewhere in these past few years, I fell in love with this quintessential