Cry out loud? Hush !

During internship.... 

Gynae department. 

Somehow I always loathed the duties or even setting foot in Gynae department. 

It was literally all females department. 
Doctors and patients both of the fairer sex. 

There was always some kind of toughness in the doctors. You don't find the usual softness of behavior although outwardly they were all women. 
So much ego issues and all that. 

And seeing the suffering of ladies during pregnancy and childbirth made me averse to the idea of marriage. 
It was so repulsive ! 

But during internship I witnessed a scene which despite its seriousness, I found it so amusing. 

It so happened that we were just entering the minor OT (operation theater) when I heard a woman shrieking and cursing her husband in choicest abuses. 
It was so baffling ! 
She was shouting, " May you rot in hell ! You wretched man ! Sister *****r ! 
You are responsible for this !" 

I was alarmed at heart wrenching shrieks, the agony of the suffering woman. 
I thought she was abusing the doctor, some intern or house - surgeon. 
But when I was told she was cursing her own husband while getting the MTP (abortion) done, I couldn't help smiling. 
She was pouring out all her anger against the husband lying on the trolley in Gynae department. 

Then there were women in Labour room. 
Delivering babies. 
As a fresher it was really horrible to see the whole thing. 
The cries of labor pains. 
Just a tiny hole and some thing hairy (head of the baby) peeping out of it. 
Keep watch. 
Have patience. 
See the dilatation progress. 
And the mounting cries, heart rendering cries ! 
It is like dying yourself and giving a new life and being born anew. 
What suffering ! 

Again it strengthened my resolve to never get married . ( Time changed my thinking later on) 
But there was one woman I can never forget. 
It was her first child and first delivery is always more painful and difficult. 
But this lady ! 
Never once she emitted a sigh  during the whole labor ! 
Never once her face was distorted with suppressed pain. 
She was so calm ! 
I was assisting in the delivery of her baby. 
"She is not bearing down properly. She is not paying heed to my instructions, " I thought. 
We used to give"  little stimulations " to the patient who was delivering. 
Slap lightly on the thighs, on the cheeks(less frequently), and all the time maintain the monotone" push, push, push........... " in a loud voice. 
So I tried everything with this calm patient of mine who seemed as if she was relaxing and not delivering a baby ! 
So I was hard with her. 
She was causing unnecessary delay and I gave the"  stimuli "still harder. 
But I didn't know. 
She was praying silently and wanted to bring her child in the world without even a single sigh. 
I knew it the moment she suddenly delivered quietly as one would pop out some small thing out of the mouth. 
The baby came out just like that ! 
Without the slightest discomfort to the mother ! 
Only after she had delivered, did she screw up her face a bit. She was feeling pain after all.  But she let it show only after it was over. 
Brave woman ! 


Another memorable incident of amusing abusing I witnessed when we were in final year of MBBS. 
We were having our clinical duties in department of surgery. 
Minor OT. 
We heard a man hurling abuses at the doctor who was treating him ! 
It was all behind the screen. 
The man was a huge farmer from nearby village. A man with rustic behavior and language. (majority of patients came from nearby villages) 
But why was he hurling obscenities at the doctor who was treating him? 
It was both annoying and amusing to see the patient. But we felt sorry for his condition too. 
It so happened that his foreskin on the genitals wouldn't come back to the tip and stayed retracted and formed a tight band which "throttled" the tip and the whole organ was swollen like a cauliflower. 
Some fluid was filled in the swollen thing and the poor doctor was puncturing the swollen manhood to let the fluid out so that the organ would come to normal size and foreskin could cover the tip again. 

The doctor was puncturing holes with a syringe, the patient was jumping (literally) on the trolley, with all the unmentionable abuses being hurled out of his mouth. 

We were embarrassed. 
But medical students learn to turn embarrassing situations into academic sessions. 

And we surely did it ! :) 

Eves and Adams - Tease discreetly

 Technology has changed the meaning of teasing. 

Now it is called "approaching" or simply "just communicating". Quite sophisticated, eh? 
Now just a click of mouse or press "send" and all your feelings get transported to your target... the recipient of all your fantasies.... right or wrong. 

It was not so some years or couple of decades  back. 

It seems so amusing to recall the desperate ways the boys / men used to " communicate" their desperate feelings to the girls unknown to them. 

On the road, in the market, traveling in the bus or train.... 
Just anywhere. 
Not to mention the catcalls. That was pretty decent. :) 

The girls used to be mostly shy and embarrassed and hardly in a position to protest loudly. 
Avoid the offender. That was the best escape route. 

When I compare those little ways of eve teasing, I find them quite juvenile as compared to the present times. 
Some of them seemed  to be so innocent ! 

For example, riding a bicycle and whistling a song while passing by the girl. 

Or sing a song ( even if it is a cacophony)  :) 

I remember my own experiences. 

Initially, as a kid I used to get alarmed at such things. 
Change the route to the school. The guy wouldn't find you. 
But how come he could trace you and follow you till the school? Like a body guard.  He wouldn't say anything. Just cross you on the road, take a turn about, again pass close to you, never uttering a word and disappearing when you reach the school. 
Harmless fellow. 
One day my father followed me at a distance so as not to alarm the guy and catch him red handed. 
But some sixth sense must have told the guy to stay away from me that day. So he maintained a decent distance and kept on cycling and disappeared . 
He never followed me again. 

When I was about 15 years, I was walking alone on the road coming from the college. Some unknown face (well they are all unknown, unseen faces) slowed his cycle beside me and gave a slight pull to my shawl . How cheeky ! 
Best thing was that these creatures were simple daredevils in that age. 
Not  serious offenders. 

But when I started commuting frequently by the bus, I encountered a different category. 
This quiet, seemingly decent person sitting next to you is after all not so much at peace with himself as he seems to be. 

Young boys were not so eager as compared to married men and aging uncles who wanted some respite in greener pastures. 

Imagine a scene.

 Any lady / girl must have experienced it. 

You are sitting quietly in the bus. 
Suddenly you find that the seat has shrunk and the man sitting beside you is finding it hard to squeeze in the narrow seat. 
His arm is grazing against you. 
He feels it absolutely necessary to cross his arms on his chest. 
And 
His fingers try to grope you. 
He thinks you need scratching ! 

Well, you try to accommodate the guy. 
You squeeze to the corner of the seat. 
But still it is so tight ! This seat. 
Every other seat in the bus seems okay. 
But Not yours ! 
What do you do? 

Two options :

Be miserable 

Or 

Make the seat wider for yourself. 

Miserable. 
Yes I did feel for a couple of times initially. 
One doesn't know much about the world, its ways. One is so young and inexperienced. 
One is shy and embarrassed. 
What will people say? 

And perhaps this uncle will come to his
senses and stop leaning on you. 
How soundly he sleeps ! He doesn't know he is falling on you, bumping into you ! 

How naive one is....... 

Then I learned. 
These very uncles in the bus taught me the tactics of this "warfare" in the bus. 

Fighting for one's dignity. 

The bus seat was never narrow and tight again. 
No one sitting beside me ever fell asleep. Rather they lost their sleep. 
Every attempt to touch was met by a push or jolt or slap. My body responded alertly. 
I could breathe freely.... 

But I made a mistake once.  
I pushed an innocent boy sitting beside me. 

Coming from my hostel, I boarded the bus to my city. 
The driver of the bus thought he was flying a plane instead of driving on the Indian roads. 
So the bus "flew". :) 

We were sitting with our hearts in our mouths, fearing a collision any moment. 
This guy sitting beside me, bumped into me a couple of times. 
It was not his fault. 
The whole bus was shaking and jolting at the turns on the roads. 
But out of habit, I pushed this guy and asked him to move away. 
Poor thing was sitting on the corner of the seat,  half of his  butt hanging in the air ! 

The pilot of our bus took one nasty turn on the road and this helpless guy sitting beside me accidentally bumped on my shoulder. 
I slapped hard on his shoulder and pushed him. 
He felt  hurt in his heart. 
Really hurt. 
He hadn't done  it on purpose. 
He got so annoyed at me that he suddenly got up angrily, looked at me and said, "You are a mad one! ", and changed his seat. 

I felt sorry for him. 

I mistook him for the usual lecher stuff. 

Now after all these years when ever I remember this incident, I can't help smiling... 
Just can't forget the look of bewilderment on this guy's face. 

Has the time changed him? 
Or 
Has he retained his values? 
His decency?... 


  

Paranormal... Just normal

Night duties in the hospital during internship and house job... 

Most boring part of the duty was to spend it alone in the doctors duty room. 

That was the era before the cell phones, laptops or even PCs. 
So either stay awake, read something, catch a wink or do something which will keep sleep away from your eyes through out the night. 
Sit with the nurses on duty and talk. 
Little chit chat. 
Share some experiences. 
Or some information about the admitted patients. 

And amongst various topics, one topic I still remember is the topic of  "Life after death". 

During internship, one day on a night duty in the Gynae ward I was sitting with the nurse on duty. 
It was after midnight and whole ward was sort of asleep... The  Sister (nurse) is talking to me in hush hush tones so as not to disturb the patients. 
I ask her, " Don't you feel sleepy during the night? And if you fall asleep, who changes the drips, gives injection or medicines to the patients?" 
She told me that usually this doesn't happen but there are talks of a Sister who has been dead for quite some time, being seen in the ward at night and tending to her duties. 

I was shocked to hear this and thought that she was kidding. 

But she wasn't. 

"Yes doctor. It is true.  Many times the patients tell that when during the night they were in so much discomfort, a Sister came and gave some medicine or injection and they felt better. "
And patients' description of the" kind Sister " resembled the dead nurse who was dedicated towards serving the sick, during her life also. 
I asked her," Are you not scared? "

No she was not scared. 
She was normal when she told that many times some lock would break on its own in the locker area but nothing was ever stolen. 
They all accepted it was their dead colleague who was being naughty. 

Well I was disturbed and scared on hearing it. I requested her not to leave me alone in the ward. 
She was kind enough to sit through the night with me. 

I was quite relieved when my rotation duty in Gynae & Obs was over. 


Soon I was a house surgeon in the Department of Medicine. 

But night duties are the same. 
Only thing that changes is your increased responsibility. 
There are sick patients, some very sick... 
You have to attend calls on different floors. 

No time to rest or sleep. 

I remember how I used to fall on the bed in our duty room in the ward, with my shoes on and ears all pricked up to hear the knock on the door or sound of a call to attend to some patient. 

Nurses used to keep on sitting on their chairs. 
It used to be a bit of " entertainment" to hear their talk and sit through their dinner which they usually carried from home. 

My night duties were over on that particular day and I came for the regular day duty. 
There was great excitement in the nurses room. 
All the sisters were talking what had happened in the ward at night. 

What I heard, again scared me and I was thankful that my night duties were over. 

It so happened that at night t the Sister on duty was sitting in the chair. 
Sometime after midnight a very serious patient of tuberculosis appeared in  the doorway, the intravenous lines on his arms all intact ! 
She started on seeing him and asked, "What are you doing here?" 
He said, " Sister,  I am very ill.... Very very ill." 
She told him to go to his bed and that he should not have  come like that and that she was coming. 

She immediately set out towards the room where he was admitted. The room was at the end of the corridor. She didn't see him walking towards his room and was still confused at the sight she had just witnessed. 
How could a patient who was so sick, who could die any moment, walk with all the tubes hanging from his limbs? And how was he breathing without the oxygen mask? 
In the similar state of confusion, she went to his bed and found his utterly still body lying in the bed and all the tubes, intravenous drips all in place. 
Patient's attendant who was dozing himself, told the sister that the patient had never moved from the bed ! 
Although the sister was a brave woman, still she said she was shaken at the experience. 
I clearly remembered that patient... and knew  I  would not have acted as strongly as the sister on duty. 


Another such experience was told by my uncle. 
He had this attack of asthma and was admitted in the hospital. 
One night he had severe attack and thought he would die now. There was no one near him. 
He was gasping and tried to call out for the doctor. No sound would come out except choking sounds from the throat. 
Then suddenly a doctor entered. 
He was a foreigner, a white man. He told uncle not to worry and everything would be okay. 
He gave some injection ( uncle felt a pinch on his skin) and suddenly uncle was breathing again. He turned his head to say thanks to the doctor but there was no one in the room. 
In the morning he told about the incident to the doctors and staff who came for his check up. Nobody knew who this foreigner doctor was. They didn't have any such doctor in their hospital...... 

Glimpse of the student days

Relic from the past..... Other life....
"Dug out "from an old trunk of my friend.
Took me a while to come to terms with such an important link of our student days.
Unbelievable !

My elder sister's handwriting, my name scribbled in my own hand and the stamp of the popular book store that every medico used to visit....
How can I forget standing in the long queue outside the shop and waiting for my turn !

My " student's soul" turned in its grave at the sight of this encounter  :))

Blessed be my friend who found it yesterday and sent it to me.