Recently, I fell sick and I had to call on a doctor. After making many calls and punched a few options, I could get his PA online. After an inquiry about my illness, she said the appointment was available only after a week. On my request that it was an emergency, she told me to come at 3 PM and she would try to squeeze me in if there was any cancellation by another patient.
The doctor was far away and he was well known in the field. Ailing from sickness, I took a cab costing Rs.500, to and fro, and reached the place well in advance by 2 PM. There was a fleet of cars in the parking lot and on the nearby streets and my cab driver dropped me far away from the doctor's place making a sick man walk the distance.
The receptionist was young and beautiful and the area was well furnished with AC, modern furniture, a 60" colour TV telecasting some movie songs, a fridge with cool mineral water, etc. I paid Rs.500, sat in a chair, and waited for my turn. The hall was full of patients waiting for their turn with wads of cash in their pockets. Many outsiders were freely walking in and out of the doctor's room.
Till 5 PM, I did not get my call and I was half dead. My frequent requests made the receptionist annoyed and she even admonished me without realizing that I was a sick person and I had come there for treatment. Finally, I go my call at 6 PM after 4 hours of ordeal by sitting in the hall.
I went inside the doctor's room furnished with cozy furniture and decorated with a good number of certificates and photographs with prominent people hanging all over the wall. He himself looked like a patient and from his lips and eyes, I could guess that he must be a heavy smoker and drinker of alcohol. He smiled wryly at me and offered a seat near him.
I was seated by his side and he inquired about my ailment. Whilst, I did not even finish explaining my problems, he took his writing pad, prescribed few medicines, and asked me to get a few tests done in a particular Lab and come back after few days by fixing an appointment. I was shocked when I was told that I had to pay Rs.500 for the second visit also.
While I was returning home in the cab, as you get in the movies, I also got concentric circles circling before my eyes and I went back in my memory, 60 years back when I was just twelve and I was living with my grannies in a small town. One day my grandfather fell sick and he asked me to go and inform the doctor to visit him as he was unable to go over there.
I went to the doctor's residence where I had gone many times as his son was my friend. When I told him about my grandfather, he immediately came with me as there was no other patient. He checked on my grandfather and pacified him not to worry and that he would be alright in two days. He then asked me to collect the medicine from his dispensary.
There used to be one doctor, qualified in Allopathy, in every small town and many in nearby towns and many more in the cities. The doctor in the town had his consultation on the lawn of his own house within two rooms, one for consultation and the other for giving medicines. A compounder assisted him in all matters like dressing, storing and preparing medicines, etc.
The consultation was done anytime during the day. The patient would lie down on a raised bench. The doctor would first test his eyes, nostrils, tongue, throat, neck, abdomen for any pain. Then with the stethoscope, he would observe the heartbeat and then his pulses. Simultaneously, he would listen to the complaint of the patient and then patiently explain the problem to him
He would write some codes on a piece of paper and ask the patient to collect the medicine from the compounder. The patient would then put any money to his capacity in a box. For the poor, the doctor gave money to buy idly or bread. The patient collected the medicine in a light green bottle with details written clearly. Powdered medicine is folded in pockets of different colours.
The doctor then visited his other patients in their homes since they could not come in person. He used to sit by the side of the patient and talked to him in general and about his ailment. He gave him encouraging words and asked him to collect the medicine. He was offered snacks or coffee which he gladly accepted. A notebook was maintained for every patient.
They were people of dignity with devotion to their profession. They stored all the medicines for the benefit of the patients without asking them to go to town to get them. Some were even London qualified, owned Buick, Austin, Morris Minor, Chevrolet cars. They did not mind referring the patient to a more qualified doctor in the city in case they had any doubt about the disease.
While there is no doubt that the development in research and technology and knowledge in the medical field has far-reaching progress in the treatment and longevity of mankind, the love, personal care, and devotion of old-timers are missing due to the high cost of medical education, greed for money and mushrooming of specialists for every finger of the hand.
The doctor was far away and he was well known in the field. Ailing from sickness, I took a cab costing Rs.500, to and fro, and reached the place well in advance by 2 PM. There was a fleet of cars in the parking lot and on the nearby streets and my cab driver dropped me far away from the doctor's place making a sick man walk the distance.
The receptionist was young and beautiful and the area was well furnished with AC, modern furniture, a 60" colour TV telecasting some movie songs, a fridge with cool mineral water, etc. I paid Rs.500, sat in a chair, and waited for my turn. The hall was full of patients waiting for their turn with wads of cash in their pockets. Many outsiders were freely walking in and out of the doctor's room.
Till 5 PM, I did not get my call and I was half dead. My frequent requests made the receptionist annoyed and she even admonished me without realizing that I was a sick person and I had come there for treatment. Finally, I go my call at 6 PM after 4 hours of ordeal by sitting in the hall.
I went inside the doctor's room furnished with cozy furniture and decorated with a good number of certificates and photographs with prominent people hanging all over the wall. He himself looked like a patient and from his lips and eyes, I could guess that he must be a heavy smoker and drinker of alcohol. He smiled wryly at me and offered a seat near him.
I was seated by his side and he inquired about my ailment. Whilst, I did not even finish explaining my problems, he took his writing pad, prescribed few medicines, and asked me to get a few tests done in a particular Lab and come back after few days by fixing an appointment. I was shocked when I was told that I had to pay Rs.500 for the second visit also.
While I was returning home in the cab, as you get in the movies, I also got concentric circles circling before my eyes and I went back in my memory, 60 years back when I was just twelve and I was living with my grannies in a small town. One day my grandfather fell sick and he asked me to go and inform the doctor to visit him as he was unable to go over there.
I went to the doctor's residence where I had gone many times as his son was my friend. When I told him about my grandfather, he immediately came with me as there was no other patient. He checked on my grandfather and pacified him not to worry and that he would be alright in two days. He then asked me to collect the medicine from his dispensary.
There used to be one doctor, qualified in Allopathy, in every small town and many in nearby towns and many more in the cities. The doctor in the town had his consultation on the lawn of his own house within two rooms, one for consultation and the other for giving medicines. A compounder assisted him in all matters like dressing, storing and preparing medicines, etc.
The consultation was done anytime during the day. The patient would lie down on a raised bench. The doctor would first test his eyes, nostrils, tongue, throat, neck, abdomen for any pain. Then with the stethoscope, he would observe the heartbeat and then his pulses. Simultaneously, he would listen to the complaint of the patient and then patiently explain the problem to him
He would write some codes on a piece of paper and ask the patient to collect the medicine from the compounder. The patient would then put any money to his capacity in a box. For the poor, the doctor gave money to buy idly or bread. The patient collected the medicine in a light green bottle with details written clearly. Powdered medicine is folded in pockets of different colours.
The doctor then visited his other patients in their homes since they could not come in person. He used to sit by the side of the patient and talked to him in general and about his ailment. He gave him encouraging words and asked him to collect the medicine. He was offered snacks or coffee which he gladly accepted. A notebook was maintained for every patient.
They were people of dignity with devotion to their profession. They stored all the medicines for the benefit of the patients without asking them to go to town to get them. Some were even London qualified, owned Buick, Austin, Morris Minor, Chevrolet cars. They did not mind referring the patient to a more qualified doctor in the city in case they had any doubt about the disease.
While there is no doubt that the development in research and technology and knowledge in the medical field has far-reaching progress in the treatment and longevity of mankind, the love, personal care, and devotion of old-timers are missing due to the high cost of medical education, greed for money and mushrooming of specialists for every finger of the hand.
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