A crystal - clear childhood memory (I was about 9 years old) is of this song playing at 11:00 pm and watching my parents waltz (or was it just simply sway?) to Glenn Madeiros' crooning.
Watching my parents laugh together, grieve together, work together and (last but definitely not the least) fight together has been, to say the least, an educational experience.
My mother subscribes to the view (lifted from Everybody Loves Raymond) that every marriage must have room for hate. And God knows that when they're arguing the vituperation they spew sometimes looks exactly like that.
Of course, being secure that they're meant to be together, I've spent a good part of growing up holding on to my sides while I laughed my head off (and to tell the truth, even adding fuel to the fire for my entertainment)at their fights and their agreements.
That being said, the tiny gestures they make for each other are nonpareil.
-Dad floored Mom with a delivery of 24 long-stemmed, red roses on the day of their jadhakamkhoda (engagement)
-Mom is rather shy so Dad dared her to hold his hand on the kalyanamandapam. So, the photos of the exchange of rings has everyone laughing, for she neatly tricked him and floored him by holding his hand then. Family lore says he was mumbling "That's not fair" with a wide grin on his face. Apparently, the terms included the loser serve tea in bed to the winner the morning after. I wonder what my paternal grandparents had to say to that !!!
-Dad will call up everyday just to hear her voice (and if one of them is out of town, the tempo is stepped up to an embarassing 5 calls a day, at least).
-Mom will not eat her dinner till he comes home (and during season time, that is sometimes 2:00 am).
Ah, I could go on, but some of the instances which are important to me might seem mundane to an impartial observer. These priceless memories wove the tapestry of a happy and cherished childhood ; they are my true inheritance.
It has been said that "An anniversary is a time to celebrate the joys of today, the memories of yesterday, and the hopes of tomorrow."
Twenty seven years and counting... I wonder how they manage it. One person for the rest of your life, it sounds warm and fuzzy and yet kinda scary at the same time.
With God's grace, may silver turn to gold and diamond, Dad and Mom.
Happy Anniversary. I love you two beyond measure.
Doctor Witch
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
How Green Was My Valley...
Every now and then, a bunch of pretty, rosy - cheeked women go door to door asking for food, old clothes or money, whatever you can spare. Further investigation reveals that they are the much talked of, displaced Kashmiri Pundits, who fled the Valley and have been living in refugee camps for years. They talk wistfully of their homeland with its verdant, green valleys, beautiful meadows carpeted with flowers and fruit trees bowed down with produce. Crystal clear are those memories but sadly that is all they remain, reminiscences of a better time with no intention to bring it back to life. In fact a new generation of Kashmiris have been born in the camps, youngsters who will never see the Valley but will grow up yearning for it. They're like young animals in captivity, staring out through the bars, hearing about freedom from past generations, but never quite figuring out what it is.
Their resigned acceptance of their lot has always struck me as odd, in fact it angers me. I’ve always felt that they were giving up without a fight. Nothing comes easy ; and it would be especially difficult to reclaim a fertile land, a cash cow for nations, a vantage point for the various wars over the past sixty years. Sitting back and wallowing in the memories of the past only means that one does not create new experiences for the morrow.
After all, Article 370 does allow the natives to resettle in Kashmir even if the rest of India can not. Yes, you might call that a simplistic view ; there will be pain and suffering, but the axiom "No pain, no gain" was coined to illustrate exactly that scenario. The pilgrims will , of course, suffer (as path breakers often do). Great numbers may even die, but from their ashes will rise intrepid explorers, descendants that will build on the legacy of their ancestors and take the new world from height to height. In fact, one has to admire the men and women who landed in the untamed Americas for their guts and forbearance in the face of tremendous tribulations. It is the temerity and pioneering spirit of these men and women that set the foundations for the USA as the superpower it is today.
"Arise ô Kashmiris, remember that a nation requires warriors, to defend knowledge, to protect one's women and children, to guard one's borders from the enemy…", regain the land of your forefathers.
The Kashmiris, however, are busy bemoaning the fact that they’ve been displaced from their homeland, looking back at the past than forward to the future ; one does not see them chalking out a gameplan or even bringing their plight to the notice of the powers-that-be. Unfortunately, when you try to explain this state of affairs to them, though they nod and agree, you can see it in their eyes that they aren’t really taking it in ; they seem to have got so used to an easy life of taking charity and aid that even if it was handed to them on a platter, I wonder if they would measure up to the turmoil and hardship of rebuilding their lives in a land reeling from the aftermath of insurgency.
Throughout history, we’ve seen many displaced cultures ; some of them regain their land while others become minorities in their own home base.
The American Indians are a classic example ; a thriving civilization that got marginalized by invaders with guns, now reduced to living in reservations in a land of immigrants. One might compare them to the Indians (of South- East Asia), attacked by the same gun-toting marauders who entered in the guise of merchants. They even got lazy/ cowered for a couple of centuries (with the exception of a few incidents like the Revolt of 1857) but finally the people reached breaking point. A nation was formed from the plundered ruins, and it arose with one voice to claim its lost birthright and regain its tarnished pride.
The common thread I've observed in those who get their nations back is the determination they have and their unwavering focus on their aim. The Tibetans, for one, may not have got back their land ; but they do make their voices heard whether through the denizens of Hollywood (who seek the Dalai Lama's blessings) or during the Beijing Olympics.
Another fine example are the Jews who managed to carve out their own little bit of home from a territory that was openly hostile to them. Whether by hook or by crook, by sheer brute force or the support of the West (thanks to some prominent bankers from the community, for as we know money talks), they realized their ideal : their Promised Land. Just as importantly, they’ve hung on to their dream (over the past 60 years), through all adversities and still give their beloved neighbours one heck of a run for their money.
My viewpoint on this issue : Faint heart never won fair lady doesn’t just apply to human relationships, it has its role on the global stage. (Yes, clichés were invented because some situations just keep repeating themselves :P).
If you've set your heart on a certain aim , you must fight for it, give it your all, no holds barred, pursue your cause with a single - minded zeal . You don’t just sit around railing at fate for handing you such a rotten deal, for then all that happens is that a more worthy crusader, one who has more passion for the cause, walks off with both the laurels and the prize.
Their resigned acceptance of their lot has always struck me as odd, in fact it angers me. I’ve always felt that they were giving up without a fight. Nothing comes easy ; and it would be especially difficult to reclaim a fertile land, a cash cow for nations, a vantage point for the various wars over the past sixty years. Sitting back and wallowing in the memories of the past only means that one does not create new experiences for the morrow.
After all, Article 370 does allow the natives to resettle in Kashmir even if the rest of India can not. Yes, you might call that a simplistic view ; there will be pain and suffering, but the axiom "No pain, no gain" was coined to illustrate exactly that scenario. The pilgrims will , of course, suffer (as path breakers often do). Great numbers may even die, but from their ashes will rise intrepid explorers, descendants that will build on the legacy of their ancestors and take the new world from height to height. In fact, one has to admire the men and women who landed in the untamed Americas for their guts and forbearance in the face of tremendous tribulations. It is the temerity and pioneering spirit of these men and women that set the foundations for the USA as the superpower it is today.
"Arise ô Kashmiris, remember that a nation requires warriors, to defend knowledge, to protect one's women and children, to guard one's borders from the enemy…", regain the land of your forefathers.
The Kashmiris, however, are busy bemoaning the fact that they’ve been displaced from their homeland, looking back at the past than forward to the future ; one does not see them chalking out a gameplan or even bringing their plight to the notice of the powers-that-be. Unfortunately, when you try to explain this state of affairs to them, though they nod and agree, you can see it in their eyes that they aren’t really taking it in ; they seem to have got so used to an easy life of taking charity and aid that even if it was handed to them on a platter, I wonder if they would measure up to the turmoil and hardship of rebuilding their lives in a land reeling from the aftermath of insurgency.
Throughout history, we’ve seen many displaced cultures ; some of them regain their land while others become minorities in their own home base.
The American Indians are a classic example ; a thriving civilization that got marginalized by invaders with guns, now reduced to living in reservations in a land of immigrants. One might compare them to the Indians (of South- East Asia), attacked by the same gun-toting marauders who entered in the guise of merchants. They even got lazy/ cowered for a couple of centuries (with the exception of a few incidents like the Revolt of 1857) but finally the people reached breaking point. A nation was formed from the plundered ruins, and it arose with one voice to claim its lost birthright and regain its tarnished pride.
The common thread I've observed in those who get their nations back is the determination they have and their unwavering focus on their aim. The Tibetans, for one, may not have got back their land ; but they do make their voices heard whether through the denizens of Hollywood (who seek the Dalai Lama's blessings) or during the Beijing Olympics.
Another fine example are the Jews who managed to carve out their own little bit of home from a territory that was openly hostile to them. Whether by hook or by crook, by sheer brute force or the support of the West (thanks to some prominent bankers from the community, for as we know money talks), they realized their ideal : their Promised Land. Just as importantly, they’ve hung on to their dream (over the past 60 years), through all adversities and still give their beloved neighbours one heck of a run for their money.
My viewpoint on this issue : Faint heart never won fair lady doesn’t just apply to human relationships, it has its role on the global stage. (Yes, clichés were invented because some situations just keep repeating themselves :P).
If you've set your heart on a certain aim , you must fight for it, give it your all, no holds barred, pursue your cause with a single - minded zeal . You don’t just sit around railing at fate for handing you such a rotten deal, for then all that happens is that a more worthy crusader, one who has more passion for the cause, walks off with both the laurels and the prize.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Books on the to-read list
Zen and the Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert M. Pirsig
Foucault's Pendulum - Umberto Eco.
I've lost count of the number of people who've recommended those books.
The Eye Of The World - Robert Jordan.
The Wheel Of Time.
Sakshi, if this doesn't work out, we have a clash of the scalpels.
Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!: Adventures of a Curious Character - Richard Feynman.
This, I know, will be good.
Weed - Paro Anand .
An interesting perspective on the jihadi situation - through the eyes of a child.
And to be honest, I found the author's name kinda cool too. :D
You've gotta love Crossword sales, three hours of paradise.
SIGH
Why can't I spend the rest of my life there?
Doctor Witch
Foucault's Pendulum - Umberto Eco.
I've lost count of the number of people who've recommended those books.
The Eye Of The World - Robert Jordan.
The Wheel Of Time.
Sakshi, if this doesn't work out, we have a clash of the scalpels.
Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!: Adventures of a Curious Character - Richard Feynman.
This, I know, will be good.
Weed - Paro Anand .
An interesting perspective on the jihadi situation - through the eyes of a child.
And to be honest, I found the author's name kinda cool too. :D
You've gotta love Crossword sales, three hours of paradise.
SIGH
Why can't I spend the rest of my life there?
Doctor Witch
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Courage Brother, Do Not Stumble...
That is my School Hymn and a source of inspiration at any time.
When it seems like nothing's working out, just put one step in front of the other, just keep on walking... after all the darkest hour is always just before dawn.
Doctor Witch
When it seems like nothing's working out, just put one step in front of the other, just keep on walking... after all the darkest hour is always just before dawn.
Doctor Witch
Friday, May 23, 2008
The Pupil Becomes The Teacher...
Yesterday, I taught my first teacher - my mother- the art of blood collection.
The guinea pig - Me , of course.
She managed, like a dream. Some things, I guess are in the genes.
Doctor Witch
The guinea pig - Me , of course.
She managed, like a dream. Some things, I guess are in the genes.
Doctor Witch
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Summertime Blues!!!
That song's kinda stuck in my head. But it fits my mood perfectly.
Sinusitis, a chalazion and epistaxis all in one week, that's one heck of a track record. It's like the Universe doesn't want me to study.(Yes, I'm so good at coming up with lame excuses, I could pass off as a guy in that particular field)
Doctor Witch
Sinusitis, a chalazion and epistaxis all in one week, that's one heck of a track record. It's like the Universe doesn't want me to study.(Yes, I'm so good at coming up with lame excuses, I could pass off as a guy in that particular field)
Doctor Witch
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Intern On The Rack
Internship...the saga finally draws to a close.
Unfortunately, the end wasn't quite as much fun... all the red tape kinda tied it up in knots. And Murphy's Law as applied to completions is : If a department can torture you and delay your signatures, it (intentionally or otherwise) will.
Apparently, working my heart out (read overtime) and agonising endlessly about my Burns posting and working till all my friends started calling me dumb has absolutely no bearing on getting signatures from the our beloved faculty. When I went to get the lecturer's signature, a month later, he has absolutely no recolllection of me, which delays my completion in Surgery.
In Orthopaedics, the HOD apparently remembers everyone else (even people who were posted there a year back) but me. My song should be, "Forgettable,that's what I am". Thankfully, the lecturer, being a lot younger, hadn't reached dementia yet and I finally got that signature.
And every single department took their own sweet time over the HOD's signature... I was beginning to feel like Jinx Malloy.
And after all that is over, I had to wait for an appointment for the hot seat (and that's more difficult to get than the KBC one) with the infamous PSM clerk in charge of torturing us about our internship. Camping outside her cabin for long enough,thankfully, had its effect, even if I was fantasising about transfer the products of her haemorrhoidectomy to the space vacated by her hemispherectomy.
N.B. : All surgeries are done without the benefit of anaesthesia.
Of course, then she couldn't find some of the attendance sheets (which I'd definitely submitted to her) and I got a lecture for her muck up. I almost drew blood biting my tongue, a maun vrat had been extracted from me by my friends for fear that I'd say something to mess it up(and delay it another few weeks) at this late stage. Of course, when I went to get my final signature from the HOD PSM, I got quizzed left, right and centre about a project I haven't finished yet.
I did get disgustingly maudlin on the last day, but I put that down to temporary insanity and the fact that I'm going to miss doling out the painful... ooops healing touch.
The torturous part isn't over yet, my project is still in the process of Excelling, along the lines of :
Data, data everywhere
It's driving me over the brink.
Of course, I also have a project guide who changes her mind, every time I speak to her and my completion is contingent on that. For the first time in my life, I'm actually waiting for internship to get over.
P.S. : Vishu ashamsagal, everyone.
Doctor Witch
Unfortunately, the end wasn't quite as much fun... all the red tape kinda tied it up in knots. And Murphy's Law as applied to completions is : If a department can torture you and delay your signatures, it (intentionally or otherwise) will.
Apparently, working my heart out (read overtime) and agonising endlessly about my Burns posting and working till all my friends started calling me dumb has absolutely no bearing on getting signatures from the our beloved faculty. When I went to get the lecturer's signature, a month later, he has absolutely no recolllection of me, which delays my completion in Surgery.
In Orthopaedics, the HOD apparently remembers everyone else (even people who were posted there a year back) but me. My song should be, "Forgettable,that's what I am". Thankfully, the lecturer, being a lot younger, hadn't reached dementia yet and I finally got that signature.
And every single department took their own sweet time over the HOD's signature... I was beginning to feel like Jinx Malloy.
And after all that is over, I had to wait for an appointment for the hot seat (and that's more difficult to get than the KBC one) with the infamous PSM clerk in charge of torturing us about our internship. Camping outside her cabin for long enough,thankfully, had its effect, even if I was fantasising about transfer the products of her haemorrhoidectomy to the space vacated by her hemispherectomy.
N.B. : All surgeries are done without the benefit of anaesthesia.
Of course, then she couldn't find some of the attendance sheets (which I'd definitely submitted to her) and I got a lecture for her muck up. I almost drew blood biting my tongue, a maun vrat had been extracted from me by my friends for fear that I'd say something to mess it up(and delay it another few weeks) at this late stage. Of course, when I went to get my final signature from the HOD PSM, I got quizzed left, right and centre about a project I haven't finished yet.
I did get disgustingly maudlin on the last day, but I put that down to temporary insanity and the fact that I'm going to miss doling out the painful... ooops healing touch.
The torturous part isn't over yet, my project is still in the process of Excelling, along the lines of :
Data, data everywhere
It's driving me over the brink.
Of course, I also have a project guide who changes her mind, every time I speak to her and my completion is contingent on that. For the first time in my life, I'm actually waiting for internship to get over.
P.S. : Vishu ashamsagal, everyone.
Doctor Witch
Friday, February 15, 2008
I swear...
Hippocratic Oath—Modern Version
I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:
I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.
I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures [that] are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.
I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.
I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.
I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.
I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.
I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.
I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.
If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.
Why this sudden fervency for my profession,one might ask?My convocation(which includes oath taking) was held today.Somehow,actually taking the oath makes a difference as did the speeches given by our guests of honour.As Dr Fernandes said,we have to take an oath because we literally hold lives in our hands...a realization that strikes home only when we are on the verge of completing our degree.The only other profession which can claim such an impact is teaching(maybe Dr Radhakrishnan should have come up with an oath too)
Today,as I stand at yet another of life's crossroads,I swear...
Doctor Witch
I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:
I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.
I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures [that] are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.
I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.
I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.
I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.
I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.
I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.
I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.
If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.
Why this sudden fervency for my profession,one might ask?My convocation(which includes oath taking) was held today.Somehow,actually taking the oath makes a difference as did the speeches given by our guests of honour.As Dr Fernandes said,we have to take an oath because we literally hold lives in our hands...a realization that strikes home only when we are on the verge of completing our degree.The only other profession which can claim such an impact is teaching(maybe Dr Radhakrishnan should have come up with an oath too)
Today,as I stand at yet another of life's crossroads,I swear...
Doctor Witch
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Rest In Peace
She's finally beamed over to a much better place.I speak of the patient with 100% burns who's been in the Burns Ward for the past ten days.She's been poked,prodded,yelled at and subjected to every indignity possible but the most amazing thing is that she remained a sweet,young girl till the last time I saw her.
A 17 year old child,about to embark on life's real journey,literally and figuratively blackened by that cruel master-fire.What is just as horrifying is that her younger brother was in the house and therefore the first to see her.this child has moved on but I worry about the scars left on that young child's mind by the horrifying sight.When,I,the budding doctor was so deeply affected by the sight inspite of all the pain I've seen how much worse must it be for a tender,green child.
I've tried to talk about this to a lot of people,family and friends,but they get too freaked out by the details...how the skin peels off when you smear her with antiseptic ointment,the pain she goes through every time we change the femoral central line,the indignity of having to lie there unclothed(clothes are a nidus for infection),being ignored by uncaring relatives,being yelled at by unsympathetic caretakers.To her credit,she bore all that without complaint or bitterness.I wonder how many of us would behave like that if we were going through even half her pain.
The moral of the post: Listen to the meek and mild
For they too have their own story.
This post is dedicated to a young child who was an example of how one bears trial by fire with grace.
Doctor Witch
A 17 year old child,about to embark on life's real journey,literally and figuratively blackened by that cruel master-fire.What is just as horrifying is that her younger brother was in the house and therefore the first to see her.this child has moved on but I worry about the scars left on that young child's mind by the horrifying sight.When,I,the budding doctor was so deeply affected by the sight inspite of all the pain I've seen how much worse must it be for a tender,green child.
I've tried to talk about this to a lot of people,family and friends,but they get too freaked out by the details...how the skin peels off when you smear her with antiseptic ointment,the pain she goes through every time we change the femoral central line,the indignity of having to lie there unclothed(clothes are a nidus for infection),being ignored by uncaring relatives,being yelled at by unsympathetic caretakers.To her credit,she bore all that without complaint or bitterness.I wonder how many of us would behave like that if we were going through even half her pain.
The moral of the post: Listen to the meek and mild
For they too have their own story.
This post is dedicated to a young child who was an example of how one bears trial by fire with grace.
Doctor Witch
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The Beginning Of The End
My last rotation of internship is in full swing.
Surgery has turned out to be an anti-climax of sorts.I was waiting so eagerly for this posting,relishing the thought of literally wielding my scalpel and I get posted in Burns-Trauma.It's now turned out to be the most taxing posting-physically,mentally and emotionally.
Now the physical part is probably my fault(as it was in Paediatrics) because I tend to linger around for after all,it is still Surgery.The mental and emotional fallout,however,caught me totally off guard.
I thought I had grown up...that internship had seasoned me well and truly till I had to deal with two cases of 100% burns.It made me question my profession as a whole,prolonging pain in a patient who's most probably not going to make it.On one hand: I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect as per the Hippocratic Oath(One cheap crack about the pronounciation and I WILL hunt you down my scalpel) and on the other hand,is it really worth it?Even if the patient does manage to make it,the pain which she'll go through(on every plane) doesn't really seem to make that particular medical miracle worth it.
As for the little kids with burns,that's the most heart rending.I thought that there was nothing worse than little children with AIDS which they've contracted from irresponsible parents but seeing them in so much of pain every time we rebandage them makes me wince internally.
On the whole,however,I have to say that internship has changed my life,it's made me a better person,more mature,more aware,a lot less protected and insulated from the harsh realities of this world especially as regards pain and suffering.All those mind games we played in college,all the gossip,all the politics and tiny acts of nastiness seem so petty now.And yea,my tolerance for people who let out hot air has taken a nosedive...I guess I get a teeny bit impatient.But when one sees the not so bright side of life,a whole lot of yackety yack does get on one's nerves.
An internship in a government hospital...not everyone's cup of tea but for me it's been an oasis of sorts.Long hours balanced by tremendous job satisfaction,a treasure trove of knowledge and experience gained,an appreciation for what I have(so it sounds corny,sue me!) and a few really great friends.
Mom,your little girl's finally grown up.
(Yea,yea...I know,it's about time but better late than never)
Doctor Witch
Surgery has turned out to be an anti-climax of sorts.I was waiting so eagerly for this posting,relishing the thought of literally wielding my scalpel and I get posted in Burns-Trauma.It's now turned out to be the most taxing posting-physically,mentally and emotionally.
Now the physical part is probably my fault(as it was in Paediatrics) because I tend to linger around for after all,it is still Surgery.The mental and emotional fallout,however,caught me totally off guard.
I thought I had grown up...that internship had seasoned me well and truly till I had to deal with two cases of 100% burns.It made me question my profession as a whole,prolonging pain in a patient who's most probably not going to make it.On one hand: I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect as per the Hippocratic Oath(One cheap crack about the pronounciation and I WILL hunt you down my scalpel) and on the other hand,is it really worth it?Even if the patient does manage to make it,the pain which she'll go through(on every plane) doesn't really seem to make that particular medical miracle worth it.
As for the little kids with burns,that's the most heart rending.I thought that there was nothing worse than little children with AIDS which they've contracted from irresponsible parents but seeing them in so much of pain every time we rebandage them makes me wince internally.
On the whole,however,I have to say that internship has changed my life,it's made me a better person,more mature,more aware,a lot less protected and insulated from the harsh realities of this world especially as regards pain and suffering.All those mind games we played in college,all the gossip,all the politics and tiny acts of nastiness seem so petty now.And yea,my tolerance for people who let out hot air has taken a nosedive...I guess I get a teeny bit impatient.But when one sees the not so bright side of life,a whole lot of yackety yack does get on one's nerves.
An internship in a government hospital...not everyone's cup of tea but for me it's been an oasis of sorts.Long hours balanced by tremendous job satisfaction,a treasure trove of knowledge and experience gained,an appreciation for what I have(so it sounds corny,sue me!) and a few really great friends.
Mom,your little girl's finally grown up.
(Yea,yea...I know,it's about time but better late than never)
Doctor Witch
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