Ward Stories-TMH Tales- Token No. 108

 

|| 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

September 2020.

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 10^th, the 100^th or even the 200^th 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 ||

 || Jai Jagdamba Jai Durge ||

|| I Love You my Dad ||

 

 

 

 

 

Ward Stories- TMH Tales- The Healer

 

|| 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 September 2020.

I joined Tata Memorial Centre, Mumbai as a Senior Resident in Medical Oncology in December 2020.

 

This is a collection of my thoughts at the end of a month of 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.

 

 

The Healer

He rubbed his weary eyes. The blurred passageway came back into focus. It was 6am. Much earlier than his usual waking timings. He wasn’t even sure what time he had slept the previous night.

In residency, adequate sleep always seemed like the horizon: beautiful and desirable, but never quite within reach. So he walked on, in a semi-trance of his own. He reached the ward before he even realized
where he was. He took a moment to compose himself. He was The Healer. It was his duty to look happy and warm, so that the patients felt the same. 

  

As he stepped in, the nurses announced: “Doctor, there’s a new admission in room 3” . His heart skipped a beat. A new admission meant new investigations and a tonne of new work. He blinked a couple of times. Then a voice inside spoke softly: that also means there’s a new life for you to touch. Keep going.

So he restored his smile to its previous quality and knocked gently on the door.

“Come in” said a frail voice. He opened the door. Stepped inside.. She lay there in bed. Emaciated and frail, with pillows propping her up. Her eyes closed, blissful. As she heard him approach, she looked at him, and she smiled. And in that moment, everything changed. Like the  Alchemy of legend was said to turn metals into gold with its very touch, so her smile transformed her face, her very appearance, from one of misery to one of pure energy. There was a light in her eyes, something that no disease could put out.

And as he spoke to her,  his world shifted like a kaleidoscope. Here was a person who had been through a lifetime of suffering, or so it seemed to him, but she still found a reason to stay happy. She could still smile like that. She was at peace with her present, and the future, the prognosis which seemed so bleak to him, well, she was at peace with that too. He carried the strange magic of that encounter with him throughout the day as a Talisman. If she could smile, he really should be able to work with a smile.

 

 

He ended up spending more time in room 3, he learned about her family, her interests and small joys. A simple thing like being able to speak to her loved ones, brought so much joy to her. It brought new light to his eyes. While the world saw only her suffering and how the treatment would only prolong the inevitable, he could see how much joy a person could fit into each stolen moment.

Just a year’s survival benefit was after all a year spent in the company of loved ones.

He ended up spending more and more time in each room. For each person there was more than a bed number. They and their families all had stories to tell. And The Healer, far away from his own family, found peace and solace with them, recovering little pieces of himself that he had lost along the way. He joined Room 8 in their prayers, he laughed with Room 2 when they spilled their juice, he watched silently from the corner as the family in room 4 hugged each other, slowly understanding the gravity of the diagnosis. He saw the power of a simple touch when Doctors started their rounds by keeping a hand on the patient’s pulse,  forming a bond that cannot really be quantified by science.

And so it was for all the Healers. They began to appreciate the smallest joys in their own lives, began to understand how to make their patients smile. And that was the most fulfilling thing of all,  for there is no feeling like watch a critically ill person forget their pain, just for a moment and smile. Slowly, part by part, their weariness melted away. And they Healed. It was not work anymore. It was truly their calling. The disease and its treatment would always be a formidable task. The least they could do was face it with a smile, together, as best as they could.

That evening, they gathered at the balcony. Doctors and patients together, to watch the sunset.

The sky was awash with a thousand colours. The Healer looked around, until his eyes found her. There she was. The Lady of room 3. Looking the picture of calm in her wheelchair. A pint of intravenous fluid solemnly dripping from the stand, her husband by her side, holding her hand. She saw him, and she smiled that smile. And as the colours changed from the vibrant oranges to the cool blues of evening, it became clear to him. She was the Healer. She had brought him back to life, helped him understand his purpose, to find himself again.

And so it was for all of them.

 

 

( This story is a work of fiction, based on my thoughts, feelings and ideas. )

 

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.

 

|| Shree Ram ||

|| Ambadnya ||

|| Naathsanvidh ||

 || I Love you my Dad ||

Dr. Arnav H. Tongaonkar

22/1/21

 

Sunset Photography

 || Hari Om ||

Sunset Photography

Reader beware: do not let the title deceive you! Though I am an enthusiastic (amateur) photographer with a particular obsession for sunsets, this blog post is not about the technicalities of photography (which I don’t know anyway ;) )

Rather, this is bunch of thoughts that have been going through my mind over the last few months. Before getting to the bone of the topic, let me give you the backstory; a bit of preamble so to speak.

I have recently cleared my MD General Medicine and also secured a good rank for my Superspeciality entrance. I have spent most of the last few months completely immersed in the preparation. In fact, since 2016, the rollercoaster ride which started from my internship has continued through the highs and lows of residency, right through to this moment, without much of a pause or breather. 

Still, it was during these last few months of preparation, as I was watching the changing hues of the setting sun; from the windows of our house, with my parents, that the seed of this idea sprang to life!

There was a single moment frozen in time, when by some miracle of nature, the entire sky was lit in a soft orange. It was as if we had stepped into Heaven, and everything had turned to gold. There was such beauty, that you could feel the energy in the air. Yet, this beauty was something that no camera could capture.

No camera, except one. The Human Eye, the camera made by that Great Craftsman.

And I still carry that moment, the bliss of that evening, the company of those dearest to me, as treasured memory.

That moment got me thinking, about photographs, and what they really mean.

These days, we are so busy capturing moments with our devices that maybe, just maybe, we forget to capture them with the devices God has already provided us with.

The real photography is in savouring the moment, enjoying the company of our loved ones; tasting the salt in the breeze at the sea-side; feeling the breeze upon your skin.

And then, when you look at the long-faded photo that you clicked that day, everything else that you felt comes back to you.

It is a great temptation to say: “I wish this would last forever, that we could watch the sunset together, everyday”. The truth is, we all have work to do, which cannot just be swept aside. And perhaps the real beauty of such moments, is that they are fleeting, a small gateway into a different world, which gives you the energy to keep moving. It is said that nothing lasts forever; I disagree. Maybe everything last forever, we just have to take a moment to “save the file”, so to speak.

Is finding beauty only about going to exotic places and scenic locations? Well, it isn’t, at least to me. I find true beauty in the little flowers that bloom outside my window, the chirping of the sparrows as they go about their search for food, in the pattering of raindrops, in simple acts of kindness, in the intricate workings of the human body, in the heartbeat that keeps us alive. There is beauty everywhere, all we need is a moment, a moment to open our eyes.

I always hoped and prayed that I would get some time off to rest and relax, and I got much more than I had ever hoped. But it is more than that: The One I was praying to showed me that I would find happiness and bliss not by waiting for some perfect occurrence, but by enjoying and treasuring the little moments of joy He gives me, everyday.

So, when you get those little moments of peace, treasure them, preserve them. And later, come calm or storm, close your eyes and let them take you away, into the photograph.

You may click a photograph, you may share it everywhere on social media, but at the end of the day, only you know what feeling you were trying to capture. That’s what makes it even more precious!

So, I close my eyes and let my mind take me away, to the beach, the place which has always been the closest to my heart. I can feel the sand beneath my feet, feel the breeze gently ruffling my hair. With closed eyes, I see the hues of the setting sun, as the sky is ablaze, with more shades of red, orange purple and pink than I can name. A thousand photographs, a thousand paintings on the canvas of the Great Artist. As I admire the Creation, I dive deeper and deeper and am immersed in the beauty of the Creator. For He that made such beauty, must be so beautiful Himself. And as the waves tap gently against my feet, I look to horizon. I see Him there, standing with His arms wide open, waiting for me. Welcoming me home. I open my eyes, and I see Him still.

|| Shree Ram || || Ambadnya || || Naathsanvidh ||

- Dr. Arnav H. Tongaonkar 

20/10/2020

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.

A Flower for God

 

|| Hari Om ||

 

A Flower For God

Mother Nature is the greatest and most abundant source of knowledge. She has the answer to every question we may ask. All we have to do is ask, and then observe and listen. A single moment listening to the rustling of leaves, the gentle breeze and birdsong is enough to refresh the mind and set in motion, gears that were long considered rusty.

This story is a little different, in that the protagonist is not our usual human hero. The protagonist is a shoeflower bush, by the name of Hibiscus.

Hibiscus is a shoeflower bush, that lives in my balcony. It is a humble shrub. Unremarkable, much like its fellow plants, basking in the sunlight. The only problem was that Hibiscus had not grown a single flower for more than a year !

 It was green and fresh and beautiful in its own right. But what good is a flowering-plant without flowers ?

Thus, it was to our considerable surprise that, at the beginning of August, we noticed a little bud growing on Hibiscus.

So we watched and we waited and we hoped, but each day was no different from the previous. We were not even sure if it would ever blossom. But Hibiscus knew.

Over weeks, the bud grew almost imperceptibly in size. It was a dull-yellow thing; not quite the colour anyone was looking for, but a bud nonetheless.

Then came the day of Ganesh Chaturthi, our most precious festival. Dearest Ganpati Bappa arrived Home.

Remember, this was 2020: “ The Year of the Lockdown”. Things were very different. Instead of our usual statue of Bappa, we had a simple photograph kept for worship. But we could feel His presence everywhere. We had been unable to buy flowers to offer to Bappa, so my mother had made a beautiful garland of simple hand-made paper flowers.

But somewhere, at the back of our minds, we were really missing offering real flowers to God.

This was exactly what Hibiscus had been waiting for! On the day that Ganpati Bappa Arrived home, the little bud bloomed. It blossomed into a glorious pink flower. 

 

And along with all the paper flowers, it was the only real flower that we offered to God.

What a journey, and what a beautiful place to finally rest!

 

As I looked at the Hibiscus flower adorning the garland of Ganpati Bappa like the most regal of gemstones, I had only one thought: “ Let our lives be this way.”

Whatever little that we are able to do; as per our capacities; let that be offered to God. Let our smallest actions bring joy to others. Let everything that we do be for God, for His work, so that we may rest at His feet forever.

Just like this simple Hibiscus flower, that waited and grew ever so slowly, just so that it could rest at His feet.

 

And the best thing about God; something our beloved Bapu ( Dr. Aniruddha D. Joshi) always says in His discourses; is that God does not want only the best of flowers or the most expensive of offerings,

He is wiling to accept anything that we offer Him with Love, be it a real flower, a paper flower or even just twigs. Just like He is willing to accept us as we are, with all our flaws.

And He is there to guide us, to blossom into the best that we can be.

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.

|| Shree Ram ||

|| Ambadnya ||

|| Naathsanvidh ||

|| I Love You my Dad ||

Dr. Arnav H. Tongaonkar @drarnavmht

20/9/2020