Obvious oblivion...

India is a developing country and no governmental structure that I know of meets the standard of perfection. Period. After working in the E-ward and EMS of Sion hospital, this observation of mine was only more strenghthened. Its understandable to an extent in the context of the first sentence of this post. But yet there are certain changes that can be brought about in both these facilities which are at present well above the average emergency facilities that most other government hospitals provide.
Firstly, talking about the medical side, Sion hospital is grossly overloaded with patients. Anyone who's ever been here would agree to that. Its location may be a prime factor. But an equally important factor are its under-equipped peripheral hospitals. Not all patients having fever with chills need to be admitted in the most advanced (well, at least theoretically) set-up of the Indian health-care delivery system. These uncomplicated cases who only need close monitoring for a few days should be admitted in the peripheral hospitals. Even if for some reason they don't directly go to the secondaries,they should be referred from here to them after may be administrating any immediate management that may be required.
This has to be accompanied by up-gradation of peripheral centres. Basic investigation facilities like X-ray, pathology labs, USG are a must. This would need funds. Also, in the wake of seasonal viral epidemics, an easy access to fully equipped blood banks is necessary. If a patient dies due to timely unavailability of life-fluid, then all other resources spent on him/her would go to waste. Patient's recovery is resources' recovery. This attitude among medics and paramedics is as essential as it is rare.
Although I haven't done my obs-gyn post yet, I know from my fellow-interns the problems faced there. There are many maternity homes run by the BMC and government but they obviously aren't enough. They ought to cater to a larger population and only complicated cases should deliver in tertiary centres. Also, there should be blood-banks meant exclusively for obs patients. Patients' blood may be grouped in advance and cross-matched later if need be. This opportunity should also be utilized to encourage patients' relatives to donate blood.
I have seen the E-ward of Sion hospital in its best days. While I was posted there, the unfortunate Mumbai bomb blasts had happened. That was the time when for a change, supplies were unlimited. The expertise is flawless. But there is an immediate need of something extremely important in E-ward.
An 8 year old boy had been run-over by a dumper. He had lost his left limb upto hips and had a deep perineal wound. The wound was so extensive that further amputation with rehab wasn't possible in the provided setting. So people just waited. His elder sister who was in tenth standard came to visit him one day against her parents will. She was so disturbed to see her brother in this condition that she committed suicide later that day. The child was transferred to wards later. Thats the last I know of him.
Trauma is an acute illness. The patients and their relatives are never prepared for it. Its foolish to expect them to be. There is a counselor's room just outside E-ward but it is perpetually locked. Someone had the vision but no one has the sense. If they did, perhaps those poor parents would have had at least one healthy living child. Psychiatric/ psychological counselling is very important in the trauma ward, especially for the relatives. They need to be told by professionals that it is indeed a tough situation but they cannot break down now. Appropriate guidance can be provided. Its almost impossible for the surgeons or other staff people to do so as they are really busy trying to save the next one.
These steps that I've mentioned are the suggestions of an intern who has worked hardly for a
month in these places. Obviously a more thorough assessment of the situation is needed if at all any plans are planned to be drawn to improve these situations. But these flaws in the health system are so obvious that it surprises me that till now nothing has been done even remotely similar to the even more obvious solutions.
India spends too little on its health system. If lakhs of rupees can be spent in three days during college festivals, even several times more money can be simply converted to smoke and sound during other festivals, then why can't we purchase a sonography machine of a few thousand bucks for Shatabdi hospital? Or why can't we provide better stains to UHC Dharavi's path lab? No wonder no PS for MP comes positive there.
We have just adapted ourselves to work under inappropriate conditions. We find that easier as our time is limited in these hospitals. Those who stay here for ever learn to pass the responsibilty on to others, never stimulating a single nerve fibre to bring about any change whatsoever.
Meanwhile, I just keep getting surprised by people. Perhaps I'd act someday...

Solapur story- part 4.

Wow! I really used to write well! My boredom finally forced me to read my own blog and while reading the Solapur stories all the memories started coming back... To read the prev solapur posts, click on the link-http://spriha.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_spriha_archive.html .There's so much more to tell. So here I go.
Well, the first month at my hostel was filled with home-sickness, made worse by hostile seniors. I went home every fifteen days on the weekends. On my first home-visit, I tried real hard to persuade my parents to shift me into a private college in Mumbai. It wasn't just the home-sickness. I was very depressed there. And somehow other girls seemed to have adjusted better than me. Of course, I behaved myself and never caused anyone trouble, but I felt very lonely. I never cultivated the habit of making friends. I believed and still do, that friends just happen.
On Sundays, the mess used to be closed in the evening. As if to compensate for the inconvenience, which was welcomed actually, they used to give us special treats in the lunch that day. Some dessert or something good and different. So we'd go out for dinner on the Sundays that we stayed there. That was the time we started bonding.
Whatever people may say about attraction of opposition, truth is, people with similar interests bond better. Fortunately I had people who liked the restaurant I okayed. And fortunately they were my friends I've mentioned before. We used to go to this veg restaurant called Aishwarya. Nice food.
My subsequent home-visits were less hard on my parents. I would take back only dirty laundry and stories. No complaints.
I used to catch a train that reached Mumbai early in the morning. It was needless to instruct my dad to not come to the station to pick me up. He knew me. And I knew him. Anyways, on my way home in the bus, I'd pass by LT, my current college, and more often than not I'd wonder how its students must be. Smarter, arrogant, luckier... Gradually, I stopped thinking that they were luckier.
Life wasn't easy in the hostel. The day started with the hassle to get into the bathroom! There used to be a long queue of buckets every morning. Some people used to get up in the middle of the night to catch the first place! They were the ones who bathed the last anyways... My standard bathing time is fifteen minutes. And I get damn irritated when someone knocks on the door while I'm in. So most of the mornings I was irritated.
Then the boring breakfast that I never liked. Hey I forgot filling up water in the morning! Drinking water! There was this tap outside our dean's house from where we used to fill up our daily drinking water reservoires. That was so rural! I cannot believe I used to consume that water. Water is scarce in the interiors. Especially when a donkey gets drowned in the main municipal reservoir! Oh, there were more donkeys than people in Solapur.
Anyways, we'd get into the bus finally and then wait...for the chronic late-comers. I didn't mind. Slowly I was getting back to my usual self. The bus-traveling part was getting interesting.
Our bus caused 20% of Solapur's pollution! In one word it was a khatara! No trouble in the morning. All boys and girls could squeeze onto the seats except one or two. And mostly because boys and girls didn't sit on the same seat.
We'd reach college just in time. Fill up the lecture hall. Shift to another after an hour. And another for the third.
Then go back to the hostel for lunch. This was the time when the bus showed its true colors! It won't start and then would have to be pushed for a few meters before the engine would awaken with an angry groan. Initially, the guys showed a little chivalry by simply going ahead and helping the conductor to push the giant. But one day, I can't say if they were being naughty or just plain guys, they refused to help start the bus. They said it was the girls' turn today. Reluctantly we tried. But the momentum wasn't enough. At least, the guys had started interacting with the girls. More about them later.
Well, I didn't care what was there for lunch because by that time I'd be damn hungry. Then we'd go back to college, again surprisingly the bus would start on its own. After practicals we'd come back to the hostel in the evening, have some tea and would be taken for the 'sessions'. That became less frequent gradually.
Those were the few days of my life when I'd surrender to a deep slumber by 10 in the night.
Its hard not to study in medical school. It took me alot of time to master it! My friends were the sincere lot. In fact, most of the girls were quite regular with their studies. It was surprising that hostelites preferred studies over time-pass there. There was this tall girl who played basket ball and knew all the anatomy! My roomie hadn't come yet. So I'd hang around with my neighbors, Shweta and Mukta, in room number one. That went on to become our common adda when we started spending most of our time together. I mean, the three of us and Vidisha, Tanmayi and her roomie Priyanka who was also from Mumbai. We'd study together and of course, it was hard to not chat.
In the hostel, your friends are your family. And I was so lucky to have a family second only to my real family. We had tremendous amounts of fun!
Well, life was peaceful in Solapur. One thing I'll never forget about that place, and my friends would also remember, is how fascinated I was with the sky out there! I mean, you never had to raise your head to see the horizon and the sky was always so clear, I mean not of clouds but dirt. I just couldn't refrain myself from looking out of my histology lab on the third floor. I felt I could touch the sky if I stretched enough! It was beautiful. And the sun-sets were mind-blowing.
There were cyber-cafes in plenty. The market was decent. There was an ice-cream parlor nearby, called Chikita. But our favorite was originals! Wow, thats where I've had the best softies. Our regular Sunday plan would be to visit Siddheshwar temple in the evening, I went there to see the lake. The eat at Aishwarya and Originals. Then come back, 10 was the limit.
(its not over yet...)

YAWN....

The following is the result of the most severe form of boredom and the feeling that arises from sending two unreplied sms's. So read at your own risk!
Life, as I see it, is a period of time. In fact, its a segment of time. I don't recognize matter. I think its a form of energy. I recognize energy, time and space. All events are changes in the energy levels of various spatial points.
This period of time is lived by the consciousness.
Lived, means...umm...I dunno...May be it means going through experiences.
And then there are emotions! Big stuff! Stuff that makes us seek meaning to our lives and even provide us with one, or more. All experiences are associated with some emotion, unless one is autistic.
I am not autistic. Sometimes I wish I was. Sometimes others wish I was...
What really counts? I mean at the most personal level of my existence. Is it my work? The changes I bring about in the world around me? And thats a very broad term actually. Or is it the feeling that everything, including my work or my 'adventures' bring to me? Isn't everything ultimately considered and categorized on the emotional parameter? It is.
These are the most precious things in my life. The moments when I doubled with laughter. The moments when I wept like a child (although it still comes with great difficulty!). The moments when I hugged or kissed someone (which comes with even greater difficulty!). The countless smiles put up on my face by blooming flowers, drooling, giggling babies, lovers holding hands (or doing more), clouds embracing hills, the sound of flowing water (no, not in the toilet), a new discovery (I still rememember how excited I was when I first saw monkeys doing it in the backyard of my house when I was 8-9 yrs old! Told my mom everything, to her embarrassment. I thought I had witnessed a rare phenomenon in nature... Silly me...), or just smiles sometimes, on other faces...
And there are these moments when I recollect them. They tell me, I've lived. And they motivate me to keep going.
I'm done now. Just wanted to kill some time... Doesn't matter, really... ;)