My routine for the last few days has mainly involved
rounding in the ward, saying hello to all the patients in my ward, checking
blood pressures, changing dressings, cracking some flimsy jokes and trying to
advise everyone regarding diet and general lifestyle. Being in orthopaedic
surgery (as a good friend insists on calling) my contribution is very passive.
2 weeks back, we had a patient in our ward who was
simultaneously diagnosed with depression. His main complaint more than pain was
the lack of attention towards him by the nursing staff. We don’t do 5.5 years
of med school to turn a deaf ear on such issues. We aren’t just taught to
tackle diseases, we are trained to try and be super heroes. All I had to do was
really assure him that he will be well in no time and we will take good care of
him. In the sick room, ten cents’ worth human understanding equals ten dollars’
worth of medical science. A week after he was discharged, he came for a follow
up visit to the OP. He came straight to me and thanked me for making him
alright and wisely said that more than a doctor’s treatment, it’s the assurance
that could truly make a difference, in both our lives. Hearing that from a
person who is 3 times my age really made my day.
What really got me writing today is a small observation made
in the wards today. As usual, I was going about my work. Surgical patients are
generally retained in the wards for a longer period than medical patients. The
bond patients foster with their treating personnel and co-sufferers is
something purely amazing. They defy boundaries of all sorts – economic,
religious and personal; and become united in suffering. What I wonder though,
is if this is a rural attitude and would be wrong to extrapolate to the urban
crowd. One lady asked me about my
background, my family and seemed to be in awe of me and everything I had to say
and did. It is a feeling that can never be put to words. They look forward to
my visits every day and the feeling is mutual, I am starting to believe.
I am haughty enough to say that I wouldn’t miss anything
about this place. As I walked the orthopaedics wards today, I knew what I would
miss –Smiles in the face of adversity; the warmth, love and respect each and
every patient and their attendant gave me in the last few days of my life as a
junior doctor.
