Journey into the past: the medical college years: Dr. Indira Shetty

One of my friends and colleague, Dr. Indira Shetty, who lives near Bengaluru, India, has recently posted a brief account of her journey through medical studies at the Seth G.S. Medical College and K.E.M. hospital. As I was all along with her in the same batch, and we are in touch, she was kind enough to forward her write-up to me and has given me permission to reproduce this in my blog. The article written by her is, in her own words, "straight from the heart" and I must say she has well described everything from the basics to the feelings we all had. Being also a paediatrician like me, her journey has quite a lot in common with mine, though there are some differences (of course).
Here goes:

My Journey in the Field of Medicine

-        Dr. Indira Shetty, M.D. Paed. (Mumbai)

It was a languid afternoon, as I sat discussing cases with my paediatric colleagues at Srinivas Medical College, when two 4^th year MBBS students trooped in requesting us to contribute an article for the college magazine.

Writing was indeed my passion but sadly over the years I had been wielding my pen only to write prescriptions. But now seeing these two bright young faces I felt inspired all over again.

So on the job, I got busy thinking of a suitable topic and I decided to pen down my journey in the field of medicine. Very recently my daughter crossed a major hurdle i.e. the 12^th Board exams and around that time, like all adolescents she was at career crossroads. Her basic instinct drew her to the field of medicine, but the fierce competition made us sit up, do a reality check and explore all possible career alternatives. More the choice worse the dilemma. It was during this soul searching exercise I realized what taking up a career in medicine meant, how important it was for a student to have real aptitude for it; because becoming a doctor is a lifelong commitment and not a one night stand. Sadly quite often some children get pushed into medical college by status conscious parents to up their market value and this can spell disaster both for the individual and the society at large. During my college days the choices were limited. The human body fascinated me and I found the world of commerce humdrum. I was lucky indeed to get into the prestigious G.S. Medical College Mumbai and this is from where my journey starts.

My earliest memories of 1^st MBBS are of the heavy text books, Guyton’s Physiology and Grey’s anatomy which altered as dumbbells and helped develop our biceps. I can still smell the formalin which would assail our nostrils in the anatomy lab, but soon some of us got so comfortable that we literally ate our lunch box sitting next to the corpses, especially a day before the exams. So engrossed we would be in deciphering the deadly details that we hardly realized that lying before us were once flesh and blood humans, now lying stripped and ripped so that we could dig into their vitals and learn anatomy in all its gory details. Little did we then realize that if not for those unclaimed bodies we would not have such insight about body details. Today looking back I whisper a silent prayer to all these anonymous humans who died unsung but played a stellar role in educating us.

Passing 1^st MBBS was a hurdle indeed, our college set us very high standards. Despite the tough exams most of us secured the necessary grades and we marched into the 2^nd MBBS. At last we got to see some real patients and we felt like doctors in the making.

Our O.P.Ds at K.E.M. Hospital, Mumbai were always teeming with patients and our wards were chocoblock with inpatients, some lying under the cots and some admitted in the corridors. And amidst all this chaos we had our grand rounds. Those rounds were grand indeed because back then we had some real stalwarts in the field of medicine who were our knowledge banks. Their rich clinical experience and acumen gathered over years of seeing patients was what no textbook could ever offer us. On the rounds we students were at the bottom of the hierarchy and above us were the interns, postgraduate resident, assistant, associate and the H.O.D. The resident doctor presenting the case would literally get vivisected by his seniors, and we students would be all ears, trying to understand the nuances of the art of medicine, how from history taking and signs and symptoms you zero down to possible differential diagnosis. A few doctors did have the virtues of Sherlock Homes, but majority were like Dr. Watson. Thanks to our teachers who made the art of medicine so fascinating. Today looking back I pay a silent tribute to those Guruji’s who felt duty bound to part with their knowledge (sad to say their tribe is fast disappearing now) and those crowded wards were our temples of learning. 

But having said that, teachers were responsible for only half our education, and the other half was contributed by the helpless under privileged patient lying on the free municipal hospital bed, who got poked, probed and palpated by numerous trainee doctors. I still remember how some patients with interesting signs and symptoms were simply not discharged on some pretext or other. Little did we realize that they too had a life back home. Tell me readers who amongst us would submit oneself to such humiliation of being exposed and palpated. I hope today’s students realize this and treat these patients with all dignity due to them. Very recently I had the sordid experience of interacting with a poor patient admitted in a well-known medical college in our city. Despite her poverty she was charged a hefty bill due to failure on her part to produce certain documents at the right time. I was wondering at the lackadaisical attitude of the social work department which is supposed to guide patients in such cases. Also the high handed manner of the doctors treating the poor patient was appalling! Wake up, dear colleagues after all it is these very patient who fill up our medical college hospital beds, so that we get the M.C.I. recognition.

Today of course the education scenario is fast changing. Especially abroad, dummy patients and virtual bodies have replaced real patients for teaching purpose. Very recently I read about a virtual liver which will replace real patient drug trials. But looking back I am eternally grateful to all those underprivileged patients who contributed to my medical skills.

Before we realized, we were out of 3^rd MBBS. I was lucky to get my choice P.G. seat in pediatrics and a whole new world opened up before me. Babies you know are known to gurgle, giggle and throw a tantrum. To diagnose their ailment was a guessing game. Even to this day an infant with excessive cry baffles me. But tell you guys I have never repented taking up pediatrics. It sets your age at eighteen and you live evergreen.

Despite my years of training and M.D. degree, when I started my private practice I realized how inadequate my knowledge was. I soon realized that what makes a proper doctor is not textbook knowledge, but experience gained over years of practice. The smile on the face of the babies and the relief on the face of their parents was my report card, I passed some, I failed some and to my joy I excelled some.

Education never ceases and each day you learn something new. And then comes a phase in your life when you graduate from, being a mere physician to becoming a true healer. This is the defining moment in a doctor’s life and the experience can be very humbling. Something lights up inside you and you find that God Spark within you which connects you with your patient . I have landed myself in situations wherein a distraught mother hands over her ailing child in my arms. Her pleading eyes say that she has faith in me. I may not be adequately equipped to handle her baby, but this is where the God Spark comes to my rescue, it gives me immense courage and unknown strength, and when things turnout good, and the child heals, the joy is priceless. The smile on the baby’s face, gratitude written all over the mother’s face and the happiness you experience no Master Card can ever buy. You feel blessed. 

No doubt, medical profession comes with its share of professional hazards; the odd hour calls, the nightmarish medico-legal pitfalls; but bouquets like these that life throws your way make the brickbats seem like a small price to pay. 

Learning never ends, it’s a lifelong process and so my journey too will go on; but this article has to end. Before I pen off I would like to thank the two students who made me write this article. It helped me rediscover myself.

The week before Ramadan - Day 3: Going from Al Baha to Abha

The route from Al Baha to Abha

I was not finding it easy to decide whether to proceed onward to Abha or not, as my previous experience of travelling from Ta'if to Al Baha had not exactly been something to cherish. In the end, my traveller's itch won over prudence. I left my hotel in Al Baha at about noon, after a leisurely breakfast at a nearby fast food joint and some surfing on the net. I was hoping that I would be able to cover the 350 km distance in about 5 hours, give or take. I allowed myself extra time for two reasons: a) it was hilly terrain, so I could not possibly drive at 100 + kmph and b) I (and my car) would need some rest periods to avoid the car from overheating and me from getting fatigued.

Very cute violet inflorescences

As it turned out, the otherwise uneventful journey took over 7 1/2 hours. I reached Abha at about 7:45 p.m., making for an average speed of 45 kmph. There is one additional reason for such a long-drawn out drive: I stopped several times to take pictures of interesting things that I saw on the way. In fact, you could say that, for me, the journey was as important as the destination. Also, it would be correct to say that the journey was indeed a most interesting one: southern Saudi Arabia, and the Aseer region in particular, of which Abha is the HQ, is a green country with lots of plants, flowers, birds, etc. Also, there are many towns, most of them heavily populated, in line with the fertile nature of the countryside. On my way to Abha, I crossed at least 4-5 big towns, each with malls, McDs-Pizza Huts-Herfy-Baskin Robbins- type of shops, large municipalities, water fountains, 5 + storey buildings, and so on. I would rate most of these towns 5-6 on a scale of 10, where 10 is a metropolis. More about the journey follows below.

These garden-like areas allow tired traveller families to stop for R & R.

This clean road overlooks a valley

The first landmark was Biljurashi, which was 29-30 km ahead of Al Baha. Thereafter there were small villages and towns. The next big town was Bashaair, 98 km from my point of origin. Both Biljurashi and Bashaair were fairly big towns, with all the modern amenities I have already mentioned above. On the heels of the second town followed Bushiyaat, at 115 km. It wasn't as large as the previous two places, but by now I was looking for a place to have lunch. I also passed a fairly big town called Bani Amr', and then an opportunity presented to me at a place called Sabt Al Alaya, at 135 km. I reached this place at 3:00 p.m. It had thus taken me three hours to travel 135 km., an exact average of 45 kmph. This is where I lunched at a small restaurant - a half-chicken tandoori with rice and a soft drink.

A self-portrait

Valley view

Resting area includes these huts with covered sides for privacy

I saw many interesting murals on empty walls, as well as other forms of street furniture all along my way. At one place, I saw many canopies for travellers to rest under. At another place, I saw this wonderful symbol, under which I stopped to take a self-portrait. The view of the valley down below was lovely, with houses interspersed with greens, trees, and some farms. 

More towns came up as the journey continued, and I passed some small towns, and then came up to Namas (186 km). This is a big city (6/10), with a long axis almost 12-15 km in length. At Namas, I saw all the modern trappings of a city. There were car showrooms (Nissan, General Motors, Toyota) and fast food joints, large beauty parlours, expensive looking restaurants, multi-storeyed hotels, and so on. After Namas, one comes upon yet another big city (6/10 too), and this one is called Tanomah (218 km). 

Tanomah is a city that wants to be famous, as it has many decorative edifices along the roads, a huge municipality building, many banks (I counted 5 banks on the main road through which I was passing) and once again, all the things I saw at Namas. 

While reviewing a 2 night 3 day tourist trip to Abha, I came across the information that the trip also covered a lunch at Namas and a visit to an ancient village near Tanomah. I tried to look for this village (Al Alyn), but could neither find it not find out about it by asking some local Saudi citizens. Sometimes, it is a matter of not knowing the exact words to speak, and sometimes, the problem is the pronunciation of the words. Whatever it was, I was unable to succeed in discovering where it was.

A road sign before reaching Sabt Al Alaya

I have added some pictures of the things I saw on the way.

An interesting hill on the way

A very imposing hill that came up on the way after Namas

A model of a heritage old home of the Asir  area

The beautiful traffic island at Bashair

Can you see the road in the distance?

 Here is a video of the flowing water of the traffic island depicted in the picture above. 

After Tanomah, I came across, one after the other, two smaller cities (5/10) with similar sounding names - Ballesmar and Billahmar. Thereafter, there was a place called Sabah, where there was a large park with a lot of families enjoying themselves. Interestingly, I also came upon a sign board pointing to a village called Mashooqua (!) (this word means a female beloved in Urdu language).

The journey was drawing to a close. It was already past seven p.m. and Abha was still over 40 km away. I was getting tired and impatient to reach the destination. Some images were still possible using the ISO (high sensitivity) settings of my camera. I came upon a huge "gate" like structure when I was about 30 km away. This seemed like a gate into Abha. I took a few snaps of this awesome structure, and then I was under it and past it. 

The huge gate that welcomes visitors into Abha

                                                                             
                                                                   As I drove into Abha, I started looking for a place to stay. Eventually, I located a place that promised everything at a reasonable price. It was next to a petrol pump, behind a pharmacy and close to several points of convenience such as a fast food joint, Baskin Robbins, Herfy, and many other such things. It was called the Al Areikh Hotel. An Indian Mr. Ali was one of the two people in charge of reception, house-keeping, etc. He arranged to give me a room at just SR 100 per night. This room, however, was horrible,

                and I refused it outright. They then took me to a bigger room on the first floor, but the room lacked access to internet (which was a highlight of this hotel, as it is of all, repeat, all, hotels of this area). Finally, I was shown a third room, which more or less met the criteria I had set for the room (A/C, hot and cold running water, clean toilet, TV with remote, and internet access). It had most of these, but this room had no table or chair and no almirah to hand my clothes. I was, however, too tired to reject the room. So I shifted in for the night, and paid up the cash (SR 200 per night).

Read about Abha sight-seeing in my next post (s).

Thanks for reading this post.

Three months after my last post

So much has happened in my life in the last three months, that I am overwhelmed by some of what I have myself engineered, and some that Allah has chosen to apportion to me. As I had mentioned in my last post, I was selected to go to Saudi Arabia to work as a specialist Pediatrician way back in April 2011. Somehow or the other, the status of my selection did not change over nearly 7 months. It was only around mid-October that my appointment formalities were completed from the agent's end, and I was given a tentative 2-3 weeks to wind up my Mumbai affairs so that I could fly out by the first week of November. I requested the agent to give me some more time, and finally, he arranged for the ticket on 16th November.


Between 18th October and 16th November, I had to run from one place to another, sometimes to make new connections with others (e.g. opening an N.R.I. account) or to break existing relationships (e.g. resigning from all the hospitals, or calling up patients and informing them about my planned departure after a month). I also arranged for Dr. A.Basit Bhoira to visit my clinic in the mornings (he is a recent pediatrician attached to Saboo Siddiq and Dholkawala Hospitals) and Dr. Lakshmi (a new pediatrician who visits Masina) to see patients in the evenings. 


I bought two lap-tops, one for myself and the other for the family to keep at home. Also, I had to arrange nearly 60K to pay the agent, and as my ticket was from New Delhi, I had to arrange for my travel to New Delhi. Also, I urged my entire family to accompany me to Delhi and to see me off at the airport. Hence, an additional expenditure of Rs. 50K came into the picture (flight tickets for all 4 of us to Delhi and for the three of them (my wife and daughters) back to Mumbai, plus 1 night's stay in New Delhi (2 doubles)).  Thus, all in all, I spent nearly 1.8 lakhs before the planned departure. I did not have to buy any new pieces of luggage or clothes or any thing else. That was a blessing, since we had already spent so much money!


My farewells to the entire family on my father's side as well as both families on my mothers' side took the form of either meeting them all on a social occasion, or individual visits to Sakinafaiji in Pune and Zehrafaiji at Marol. In addition, I met Moizmama, and called up as many others as possible, including friends, doctors etc. 


My mother was quite apprehensive about my going to a foreign land and tried to dissuade me whenever possible. However, I convinced her that everything would turn out fine. Eventually, she compromised with me and asked me to keep in touch with dad and her from time to time. Of course, I said, and that was that. 


The other resistance had come from Nishrin, who was worried that she would not be able to manage the affairs and both my daughters single-handedly. I told her that the main purpose of my going was to earn some extra money and to provide an opportunity for her (and the kids) and me to live apart from each other and thus gain a measure of emotional, financial and social independence. A sort of "training", one might say, for us to live without each other should Allah snatch one of us away from the other during future life. (This last reason I did not vocalise openly, but you can see the wisdom behind it. So many husbands do not "independentise" their spouses, and this leads to immense difficulties for their spouses in the event of death or disability of the husband.)


For those who want to read a day-by-day account of the stay in Saudi, I recommend that you visit and read my other blog on this very topic. I make entries daily and I am sure some of the entries will interest you immensely. To visit this blog, click here.