Monday, December 7, 2009

I’m not an angel. Alas! I’m not an angel but a simple young girl whose heart gets disturbed to see pain of others. I can’t fly in the sky and bless people with some magic stick. I have limits of my being a human, limits of money, limits of living in a world that is yet to be developed- ‘a historical world’ where all facilities are scanty in comparison to the developed world.
Even the developed world lacks many developments and ‘expectant observation’ is the best available treatment for many diseases. Most common cause of nearly every disease is ‘idiopathic’. And every drug and surgery carries lots of side effects. Cause of psychological illnesses and their management is still a matter of debate.
In malignancies prognosis is measured in terms of ‘five year survival’… only five. And sometimes it’s also too less. Cancers in late stage are not curable in any part of the world and what you give is just ‘palliative’ treatment. You cut their organs; amputate body parts; give lots of cytotoxic drugs and showers of irritating radiation; then give tons of anesthesias and then… the person dies. You are satisfied that you have tried every treatment in the world to cure the patient…or will you feel hopeless that you’ve failed to save the patient? Individual opinions vary. Some people are angels they see positive side of everything; some are machine men or women who think of the money they’ve earned.
…Not me. I can’t tolerate it. I can’t ignore everything and say, ‘It just happens like that.’ I get very emotional. And a doctor should never do that. I won’ be an ideal doctor. I won’t be a doctor. I won’t practice.
But I don’t want to run away and hide in a luxurious hole and let people die in my absence because I can’t tolerate their death. And that’s why my heart is constantly in some undefined distress. I want to improve the condition… directly or indirectly. And an invention to improve the condition is the best solution, I think.
I want to become a scientist. Because, though I don’t possess any magic stick, I deeply believe in it. I want to bring it to existence. To my disturbed heart it’ll be soothing!7 Healing

Saturday, December 5, 2009

i want to heal people

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I want to heal people. But I’m not a die-hard nurse or a social worker or a dedicated doctor. And I won’t be. Even if I’m going to be registered practitioner by next year, I don’t want to practice. I just can’t do it because here in these four and half years as a medico, a MB BS student I understood that a doctor can’t heal everything. Every wound, every disease every grief is not treatable… and these limitations hurt me. I hate boundaries.
Some friends say it’s better to do something than doing nothing. Some say “Try your best and work best within these limits.” And people do need a good doctor. A doctor who is not a machine mindlessly prescribing drugs from its list of P drugs to everyone who arrives to seek medical attention. And alas, every here and there I see such machine doctors. Their emotions are blunted; deaths don’t bother them; pains are nothing for them; and moans are only annoying. It’s not their crime; many of them were emotional humane humans before they started practice. Working within limits of facilities and inventions; encountering series of failures; tolerating abuses from people for the failure as if it was their crime and managing family and trying to fulfill dreams of wealth and luxury and… this all repeated for years is bound to form a machine doctor, a health robot programmed to earn money and prescribe or do things as they are given in a short book, mindlessly. This may not be universal; some exceptions are always there. But they are always much more than mere a doctor. They might be someone like angels who fly in the sky and bless people with happiness of health.7 Healing
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Friday, November 27, 2009

Magic stick

Here’s why I do this…
I dream the whole world; I wander in my dreamland- in happy future sometimes on developed Earth, sometimes in spaceships and sometimes far away from Earth, while sitting here in my small hostel room with the doors closed and bolted from inside. Sometimes the window is also closed; when it gets closed by the wind, I don’t take trouble to open it. This isn’t absolute isolation, some voices are audible, the shouts of ruthless big vehicles and the loud sounds from the pageants on the backside road are always there. Also there are human voices like laughter and chats of girls from my hostel, but all are at a distance… outside my room, outside my heart. And my heart tries to console itself; tries to get engaged in some entertainment like watching movies on my computer. But fails… Alas! I can’t get solace in it, instead I get disturbed. The voices, the window, and the movies they all provoke me; they try to challenge my loneliness but never succeed. This loneliness is not enforced, it is chosen one. I’ve chosen loneliness to meet the needs of my heart. What kind of heart it is that it needs to be lonely?

I’m not one of those alone souls who have no one to understand. I have a supporting family. My parents love me and my younger brother approaches an ideal young sibling. I have friends who always alert me and there are some who say, “Well, it’s great what you’re doing. But I’ll never do that!” When in home I get every luxury that I can dream of; I get everyone to talk with me, and I spend hours in chatting and speaking and getting understood. But… but this isn’t what my heart wants. After sometime it starts poking me and I get disturbed! My behavior becomes strange and I start weeping or shouting on someone or I cry causelessly. Even if my mother has coked my favorite dish from bottom of her heart, the food becomes tasteless to me and those chats become mindless. I trouble my family; hurt their emotions and leave home to come back here. I need solace. I need peace for my heart!

I want to do something… something that matters… something that makes the world after me somewhat different from the world before. I want to add in the difference positively.7 Healing