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| Image courtesy: The family |
REMEMBERING A DOCTOR
The hospital was unassuming. It was on the way to Brodipeta from the center of Palakol, a town in coastal Andhra Pradesh. Palakol is famous as a pacharama kshetra. We have an age old temple dedicated to Lord Ksheera Ramalingeswara. Our place is called Ksheerarama, one of the famous pancharamas which are important Hindu temples. Here lived and practiced our good doctor, giving his invaluable suggestions to his patients. To him, the interest of the patient always came first. It didn't matter whether the patient is rich or poor. Of course, most of his patients are poor peasants. They belonged to a nearby village by name Ullamparru.
The name the hospital Sri Satyanarayana Nursing Home was depicted on a faded tin board. The doctor's hospital was called as potti (meaning short in Telugu) doctor's hospital. Because the present doctor's father was short and he is also a doctor. The name stuck, even to the son, as he was not tall. But there is nothing short when it came to competence in his profession. The road is called kodigattu. I never noticed the hospital or the doctor all these years though I commute to Briolette from the heart of Palakol a number of times as my best friend used to live there.
During my Medical Representative days, I was introduced to the doctor by my front line manager, a Mr. D. S. Rao. Mr. D.S. Rao was instrumental in my being a Medical Representative. He virtually invited me to join with the good blessings and support of Mr. T. Krishna Murthy of Sri Sai Krishna Medical Agencies. We worked for Pharmed Limited, a Bangalore-based pharmaceutical company for a period of six years. We visited the doctor almost every month then.
I am impressed by neither the doctor nor the hospital. Both are equally out of order. Both are untidy, but an air of superiority emanated from the doctor. The doctor's words and movements are slow. He seemed as a misfit just as I am because I am quite awkward in handling my detailing and other tricks of the trade of a medical representative.
As the years passed we began to like each other. His memory was remarkable. It was almost photographic. I respected him for his excellent medical knowledge, his diagnostic capabilities and his simple common sense and presence of mind even when he is facing a serious situation. He has the uncanny ability to predict the success or the failure of a newly introduced drug in the market. He is always well informed and he keeps himself abreast of the latest technologies and innovations the medical field can offer to the patients. He is the first to give a trail to new drugs. He sometimes prescribed drugs that are not yet available in the market. Such is his range.
As I know him more and more, I learned that he is suffering from a chronic rheumatic disease. Often he dragged himself into his seat or walked slowly holding a wall to support him. There are days when the pain is unbearable, he is moody. His words are sarcastic but they never lacked love and affection. His jest for life and his good medical knowledge were drastically restricted by his lack of fluid mobility.
When we decided to rebuild an old and depilated Matt, he readily offered his full cooperation. Sitting in his chair in his clinic he supervised our efforts of fund mobilization. He gave us innumerable suggestions in rebuilding the Matt. He is the man behind the idea of monthly pujas. He encouraged his patients and accountants to donate liberally for the noble cause.
He discovered that I have a reasonable knowledge of English and encouraged me to utilize my English. He asked me to teach to the teachers of a local convent. Thus he brought out a teacher in me. When I started my own wholesale medical business, he is ready to support me with his prescriptions. He even offered to sell my medicines.
As his abilities dwindled, he began to worry about his family. Once or twice he was sad about his failure in earning sufficiently for his kith and kin. He wanted to do a business with us taking advantage of his friends who are in better positions. He wanted to do public service establishing an NGO to fight diabetes. He wanted to do so many things at one time. We discussed cinemas, books, society and ethical values and he seemed to be able to say something on any subject under the earth. He brain was razor sharp. His ready wit was a welcome relief.
Soon his health started to deteriorate. Suddenly one day, our beloved doctor could withstand no more and he is taken to the hospital first to Bhimavarm and then to Hyderabad. We at our Sankarmatt donated blood for him and prayed for his health. Luckily he recovered and came back home.
The doctor's family moved to a new rented premise. They started building a new home in the back street of their present home. The good doctor once again was in good spirits. He practiced, at the least tried to best to practice as usual.
But alas! The triumph is short-lived. The disease wasted his body. His hapless body froze in a gruesome position. Slowly he was confined to bed. He wanted four of us to be with him whenever possible. We are Sairam, Kesava Rao, Ravisankar and I. He used to call us very frequently and talked to us. I and Ravisankar moved him on bed hither and thither to ease his pain. Gradually his sufferings became ceaseless. He fought bravely with inevitable death. He never showed his pain and suffering. Like a wounded and dying tiger, he suffered alone. Finally, he passed away.
Goodbye, doctor. In heaven, we all shall meet. I appreciate your straightforwardness, ethics, worldly wisdom, sense of humor, your confidence that people often mistook as ego, your unflinching capability of bearing pain and suffering, your concern for patients well being, your capabilities of making people listen to you and finally what not, every inch of you is worth commending and remembering.
Like an unsung hero, you died young. Nevertheless, you are a rare breed. I salute you, my doctor, wholeheartedly. We remember our imperious and proud doctor always.
