THE DOCTOR AS THE PATIENT- TO BE OR NOT BE PATIENT!
(A true
account of what goes on in the mind of a doctor when the doctor becomes the
patient and what actually happens))
This is the
story of what happens when tables turn and the doctor becomes the patient!
Returning from a quiet dinner all alone, which I thoroughly enjoyed, (the loneliness, I mean), I was silently listening to the melodious voice of the Nightingale of India, walking on the darkened road in the campus where I worked.
Life
seemed bliss.
Till a small bunch of pebbles decided to turn me and my life upside down. In cahoots with my brand-new platform sandals, the pebbles brought me down in one swift motion, twisting my right ankle, throwing my hands in the air making me land full weight on my delicate (read-old) right knee. A loud crackling sound and a pain that sheared through my body like thousand volts, I collapsed on the rough ground, screaming in agony, calling for help and trying to find out by a quick clinical examination if I had broken my knee (the doctor in me) all at the same time.
After a few excruciating moments, and clinical confirmation that the knee
cap had indeed been broken into pieces, I allowed myself to be lifted onto a
passing vehicle and be taken to the casualty where I declared ( through tears
and grimaces) to the Orthopedic surgeon that I had a fracture patella, (knee-cap)
and it needs to be fixed, much to the consternation of the specialist, but like
all good husbands ( indeed I have married an Orthopedic surgeon, decades ago),
he kept a calm demeanour and continued to order the management protocols.
Am I going to sit in the wheel chair? Hell, no! (Mind talk)
I thought
angrily as my post-graduate students gently lifted me on to the wheel chair and
pushed it to the waiting casualty bed.
No way I am going to lie on the bed meant for accident
patients whom I see in emergencies and treat! (Mind talk)
I was lifted
by a couple of orderlies and put on the metal bed with a hard mattress and a
stone hard pillow, unaware of the bile rising in my mouth of anger, frustration
and above all, helplessness. Isn’t it here that I stand and pass orders, follow
protocols, scold the students for not doing their job correctly and walk away
to another waiting bed? Isn’t it here that the staff on duty run behind me
following my orders for quick management of emergencies? Isn’t it here that
eager learners catch every word, rather every pearl of wisdom I drop while
treating a patient? I looked around through tears of pain and anger only to see
that world went around silently, doing their job, shouting orders, managing
serious patients, attending emergency situations, and only occasionally
stopping by my bed to record my pulse and blood pressure.
No way I will be lifted on to the stretcher to be taken to the
radiology. No way this is happening to me. (Mind talk)
The
stretcher ride was bumpy, steely hard and I shouted in pain as the technician
gently changed the position of the knee to confirm my fears. The knee cap had
indeed broken into multiple pieces.
Why are you asking me so many questions? I am in pain. Is this
the time? You are not following the history -taking protocol (Mind talk)
The
questions about my health, my fall and my medications started coming in
succession as the junior doctor began the admission process. He is missing some
points in the patient history, the teacher in me thought. Should I correct him? A silent nod, a few answers, thank-you Mam, and
I was given the band on my wrist that said, patient for surgery!
I don’t think I should take spinal anaesthesia, just a jab of
the general anaesthetic through my vein and life gets simpler. (Mind talk)
I sat
silently in the position given by the chief anaesthetist and waited patiently
for the needle to prick my back for the spinal anaesthesia. Thankfully the rest
was a total blur and no more opinions flooded my mind till I was made to lie flat.
I will not go under the knife! As a surgeon, I always stand on
the right side of the operation table and wield the scalpel. I am sure there could be a way out of this. (Mind
talk)
The Operation-table was warm, the
over-head lights bright, and the gentle hushed voices of the surgeons, staff
nurses and technicians was all I remember before finding myself a few hours
later on the patient bed in a beautiful room with flowers and a television.
No, not that antibiotic and that pain killer. What is its microbial
cover? Check the expiry date of the medicine, is the syringe just opened from
its pack, has it been diluted correctly, is it going to be given slowly????? (Mind talk)
I looked
through hazy eyes as the nurse filled the antibiotic syringe and without a
word, pumped the fluid into my vein, locked the tube, collected her things and
walked out with a smile.
I will be fine! I know exactly how a body responds to trauma
and heals. (Mind talk)
It was when
I took my first step on the walker, that I realised I was truly handicapped for
that time. I needed support, I needed help and most importantly, I needed
guidance from the experts to learn how to walk all over again. I needed to know
when I will be back to normal again. Questions whose answers I did not know,
even as a doctor myself.
I needed to
surrender to the reality that I was a patient.
I needed to
step out of my identity and assume the new one of being on the other side of
the consulting table.
It was a
difficult time but the challenge was to be a patient, patiently and
wholeheartedly. It was the acceptance that however trained you are to save a life or
cure a disease, there are aspects of the human body that you can never
understand till you become a patient. There are experts in each fields who know
the nitty gritty of that disease and must be listened to.
It is the
basic tenet of healing, of the mind and the body, that one must surrender
completely, walk out of the skin one is wearing and allow the healer to help
one heal.
As a patient
it is necessary to let go of the aura one develops as a doctor about knowledge
of the body and one’s control over its functioning.
Doctors are
cursed, they say! Now I know why.
Doctors make
bad patients, they say! Now I know why.
But it’s
never too late to learn and I learnt my lesson well.
I am well on
my way to complete recovery now.
Dear Doctors,
stay healthy!
But for
those who may become patients, I wonder if you will learn your lesson the hard
way or accept that it is in our interest to be ‘to be’ and not ‘not to be’ a
good patient!
Here’s
wishing everyone a great health.
Dr. Reina
Khadilkar
