|| Hari Om ||
For those of you who do not know me personally, a brief introduction:
I have completed my MD in General Medicine from KEM Hospital in
I joined Tata Memorial Centre, Mumbai as a Senior Resident in Medical Oncology in December 2020.
This is a collection of my thoughts and feelings that I have imbibed in my Oncology residency. This is a branch that not many are ready to step into. A branch everyone, patients and doctors alike, associates with suffering. But where there is suffering, there is hope. And in the midst of darkness, we appreciate the light even more.
At the end of the day, there is a lot more to learn from the patients than the diagnosis and management of their disease! Now, on to the story.
Token No. 108
Tired. A strange word to start a story
with, but there it was. The Doctor was always tired. Happy and tired, sad and
tired, but always tired. Tired was the way of life at the Hospital. So much so,
that even though it was a holiday, he was still tired. A person who has been
working continuously should jump to embrace the smallest amount of free time.
But more often than not, they don’t know what to do, when they actually have
time to do it.
He rolled around in bed for a bit, and then decided it would be worth it to at least see a bit of sunlight. He got up, unfolded his tall frame and dressed in the least battered clothes he could find.
He left the building without any real plan.
His feet wandered one way, and his mind another. The previous day had been a
storm. 150 patients in the OPD, or 150 “tokens” in Hospital lingo, even more
than the not so modest 100 that came there everyday. And as the day wore on,
everybody grew more and more worn out. Patients and doctors alike.
Without realising it, he reached the
entrance of the park nearby. He hesitated at the threshold. It had been a very
long time since he had interacted with people other than those suffering from
or treating disease. Anyway, a walk couldn’t hurt.
So he followed the beaten little walking
path and soaked in the smell of the wet mud as the gardener watered the plants.
He heard the chirping of sparrows after months and the birdsong sparked long
forgotten feelings in his weary soul. The sunlight played hide-and seek with
the shadows of the rustling leaves. He was mesmerized.
Everything was so ordinary, and yet so alien to him. Slowly , the Doctor remembered what it was to be human, and to celebrate the small delights of the soul. A part of him was surprised that such simple beauty and warmth could exist so close to a war zone, the battlefield between health and disease. For a moment, a wave of despair washed over him. He wished he could have more time to himself, more time to spend appreciating life as it was.
His trance was broken by the sound of children shouting. He followed their little high pitched voices and found two children, a boy and girl, locked in a fierce argument over one of their toys. Their mother was seated on a bench nearby. He watched the scene from afar, like the audience to a stage drama, appreciating this snapshot of how other people spent their time.
As he approached, he saw that the mother
had an expression of such deep and profound joy, as if watching her children
play was worth all the riches in the universe. In that moment, her face was
awash with a thousand tiny expressions, so much joy, hope, bliss; and also a
hint of pain and longing. Suddenly, he
realised that she looked oddly familiar.
She looked up as she saw him approach and
raised a hand in greeting. He still couldn’t tell where he had met her. “ Good
afternoon doctor, so nice to see you here. “ He knew now that she was somehow
related to one of his patients , but still couldn’t place her. She saw his
confusion and said.
“We met at the OPD yesterday . I was token
number 108 !
I was in a lot of pain, and the medicines
you prescribed have really helped. So much so, that I’m up and about today. I’m
using this day to spend time with my children.
God bless you for helping me“
He bowed his head and accepted her
blessing, said a hasty goodbye and walked away. He had tears in his eyes. To
him, she had been a number, a diagnosis with a symptom that he had treated. To
see her here changed his perspective totally, the world shattering and realigning like the turning of a kaleidoscope.
For the first time, he saw the difference
that a single medication could make. How treatments literally changed lives and
brought smiles to forlorn faces. All the fatigue and work was worth it for
this.
The next day, a new OPD. He was still
tired. They all were. But even in his
weariness, he saw new light. He saw the patients as more than numbers; it was
almost like he could see them carrying their families with them, waiting to play in the park together. He could
see now how he could touch their lives.
It may be the 10th, the 100th or even the 200th patient for him, but it was a loved one, a dear parent, spouse, sibling or child for someone else. So he worked now with renewed vigour, realising that God had sent an Angel, a ray of guiding light to show him the path forward. His world would forever be changed by Token No. 108
Author’s note
This story is a work of fiction, inspired
by feelings and moments that may be completely different from these events.
However, it is also true that many of us
medical professionals live a life of sacrifice, away from our loved ones, with
almost no time for ourselves. And in
such trying times, it is such tiny moments of joy that give us the strength to
keep working, to keep moving forward.
My older blog posts are listed at the top of the page.
If you liked this post, do read the others as well ! All comments and feedback are welcome. Subscribe for updates and new posts.
-
Dr. Arnav H. Tongaonkar
11/3/21
|| Shree Ram ||
|| Ambadnya ||
|| Naathsanvidh ||
|| I Love You my Dad ||
