Welcome to my blog! Hope you enjoy reading it and do feel free to comment.
Friday, May 18, 2012
An Update
Saturday, January 7, 2012
If you can’t donate – don’t die
(This post is written for my college magazine - was rather forced to write such senti stuff)
What you are about to read, are hard facts bluntly put across.
That you still want to read it shows your naïve enthusiasm for some possible creative bravura. Do you really want to know what the best part about this entire page is?
… The fact that you can read it!
This man attending the eye OPD at PGI can’t read it. Because none of us who are reading it can offhand count even 5 people who have pledged their eyes. Is this statement wrong? No – the fact stares blatantly at us.
This patient has a simple question that we cannot answer. Has the Eye Bank received any eyes from any noble donor yet? Sadly, no! He breathes heavily and gives a poignant expression. Is his watering due to the illumination of the slit lamp or they’re just tears? It’s tough to find out and even more heart wrenching to think about. Maybe he has no emotions. He folds hands, bows and reaches out for his stick and nonchalant 9 year old daughter’s hand.
This patient is one amongst many who throng the Eye Centre of not only PGI, but God-alone-knows how many such centres all over India. But he tells me that people like him are few and ‘over’ privileged people with ‘good’ eyes definitely outnumber them. We agree. India has nearly 1.2 billion useless people who can’t help this guy even when they are dead. Offended? Think of living his life for even 2 days.
You know the best part of donating eyes? You don’t lose anything!
Too lazy to go and fill those forms? Disgusting!
It’ll disfigure the sacred body of my kin? Ignorance to the hilt!
So what’s stopping us? Wish we knew.
Getting a bad taste in your mouth? Then go for it, it’ll make you feel better. If you haven’t pledged your eyes yet, pull up your socks. Even if one-fourth of you pledge eyes after reading this, the purpose of this magazine is served. Talk to your family, friends, society and patients. Encourage them, teach them and counsel them.
Dear reader, we hope you got the message. Let there be light in the room even when you leave. You can enlighten the lives of at least two – and as science progresses – possibly more than 2 patients’ lives with your promise. Somebody tells us that if all people dying donate eyes – within 11 days no one in India would be cornea-blind.
We dwell in thoughts that someday this will come true and more people can wake up to a new life.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Spice of Life
Things changed when I got into residency and was given the spice phone barely fifteen days after I joined. Along with the phone came strict instructions: ‘pick up every call, dare not miss any, answer and ask what the person needs from you’ by more than dozens of dominating seniors.
That bloody phone has achieved the record of ringing more frequently than the number of times I’ve had dinner at ODH. I like the sound of the woman screaming ‘welcum to… phooth phloor’ in the lift of ‘puraani’ PGI better than its ringtone. Not to mention the voice of people on the other side of the line.
The best part about the phone is that the person who’s calling you doesn’t know who you are. “Ophthal SR? JR? Consultant? On call? Today? Yesterday? Last Thursday?!”
Sometimes they call us ‘eye on call’. Like there exist ‘nose on call’ or ‘bum on call’ or maybe even ‘Douglas pouch on call’. One gynaecology resident (hard feelings meant) once called me ‘fundus on call’. I told her I’m ‘cornea on call.’ She didn’t appreciate the good joke; “huh?! But there is a fundus to be examined!”
“Ok, dilate her at 5.00pm!”
“But sir, she’s fully dilated and about to deliver!”
I didn’t appreciate the joke either.
As a part of ward duty, one thing I understood was most people spend a lot of time trying to prove that I shouldn’t have called for ‘such a flimsy reason’, instead of seeing the patient. “Sir, one patient has TB and pulmonary consultation has advised pleural tap.”
I get a reply, “So?”
I mean, what did he mean?
“Sir, how do we go about it?”
“Take a needle and do it!” – comes straight from New England Journal of Medicine.
Now, this was it. “Sir, from now on, why don’t you send patients to eye centre for chest tube and bronchoscopy to eye centre as well?” He got the message straight.
Moral of the story, just having spice doesn’t help. One must know how to use it as well.
Once, this doc from ESOPD calls, “Docsaab, yeh patient ke liye kal bhi call kiya tha, par koi aaya nahi ab tak!”
“Mein kal on call tha hi nahi, how am I supposed to know?!”
“Nahi nahi, mujhe nahi pata! You come here and sort out!”
“But I’m not even on call today!”
“Nahi nahi… I don’t know. Tum logon ko patient aakar dekhna padega. He needs urgent ENT consultation!”
“But I’m from eye!”
“Nahi nahi… blah blah…” Spice mobile has free outgoing, and he ensured full-vasooli.
Spice mobile has certain special uses too – for instance aiding in matrimonial alliances. And one fine day I found out how; “Sir, I’m calling from (some random department). Just wanted to ask, do you know this (random guy) from your department? Does he have any… you know… I mean… an affair or a girlfriend?”
Now tell me, that too on an emergency day, do you care a damn about how someone else derives entertainment in life?
All in all, Spice is a life saver for all those new guys who have just joined with us. So if any hard feelings, just consider it free with this magazine like those ‘PP – free’ messages.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Tales of Chandigarh
***
Life’s been good in Chandigarh. Ophthalmology is one weird subject – I don’t know why so many people from one batch chose to take something like this up. Nevertheless, work is going fine. I’ve been able to do at least three extra capsular cataract surgeries and two lid repairs – though only stepwise and to be frank, partly. But no complains – at least we get to do something and they teach us with great care. I haven’t ruined anyone’s eye yet. Amen.
Hopefully, I’ll get to learn more about posterior segment now that I am posted in retina. But again, I need to open my books which are lying in a cupboard with dust settling on their hardbound covers. Someday, I shall overcome them.
***
Mom is here in Chandigarh. I miss home a lot – and you’ll understand how it feels only if you are living my life. As an outsider, you might just laugh it off. But it isn’t that easy.
The worst part is that whenever I come from home or whenever someone from home is returning back to Mumbai, my room partner has his emergency duty and I need to fight all that loneliness alone within the confines of my room. It’s difficult – hopefully these days will pass away soon.
While she was here, mom has arranged my room and kitchen so that I can have a decent life outside eye centre. Now I have all the facilities to cook good (?) food at home.
***
By the way, there’s a lot to cheer for. My new car has arrived today – it’s a Skoda Fabia. It’s cost mom and dad a fortune but it’s worth all the money. I’m just waiting to be perfectly well versed with all its controls and take mom n dad on a long drive so that they can relax and enjoy at least one weekend with me.
The new audio system has been installed and right now I’m simultaneously burning songs on a drive for my car I’m going to spend at least this week personalizing stuff and I’m sure it should be good fun.
***
It’s a city full of crazy people. I’m talking about Chandigarh. I can go on and on; this topic is never-ending one. I feel like posting something on this topic every time I go to a general store here. I’ve already shared this with some poor batch mates (poor because they were compelled to her my non-specific ramblings) who had come to take the PGIMER entrance exam or pick up a seat after excelling in the same.
I guess I’ll leave this for some other post. Right now, my audio CD is complete and I need to verify it before packing it and going to sleep. Good night.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Status Update
If you’ve been wondering as to whether this blog is still alive, I don’t blame you.
My life is finally back – and it has taken nearly 4 months for normalcy to return. But in the end, the entire shit seems composted.
It’s surprising where destiny takes you. You make new friends, while some people tend to drift away. Some people stand by you and how glad you are to have them by your side.
I hope things remain good. I hope some near ones who are still in the mess get their path soon. I’ve been through the trauma and I know how bad it is.
These last four months have been treacherous but have taught me a lot.
This post seems so raw and unfinished. It’s full of one-liners, with lots of emptiness about it. That’s how life is, I guess.
Status: Introspective. Relieved. Thankful. Wishful.