Why I wanted to be a doctor?

 Ms. Vaidehi Patil- state rank 105- cet score 183/200.

The screen ejected my fate. The entire family, literally stood on my head. Baba's stubble pricked my forehead. Aai's hands firm on my shoulders clutched me. Dada's pendant oscillated in front of my eyes as he tried to catch a glimpse of the screen from above. With the above results, the entire Patil household went into a frenzy. Aai rushed to the light lamp near her Bappa whom she had threatened to immerse in water if the results were not in our favour. Baba headed straight to the landline and started calling his brothers, "Haan, our Vaidehi is now a doctor!"

Dada went overboard with calling the estate agents, to check what was the trending rate of a decent property for a clinic or hospital. According to him, it was now or never. The dark clouds that had gathered around me a few moments earlier, dispersed like essence in the air. All gone! Who was going to shower appreciation on me? Who was going to check what I really wanted to do? Maybe none! 

Appearing for the cet, clearing it was one thing done under peer pressure. To feel cool as part of a group. Dammit!! Is an insane creature like me really going to be the Lord in White Coat?

"Haan, Haan she is here, waits.....Vaidehi your kaka wants to talk to you." Baba handed me the receiver. 

"Dr Vaidehi Dilip Patil.." 

I almost collapsed hearing the prefix. Was he out of his mind? I had not even filled out the forms for a medical college. Leave aside, learning or graduating from it. Yes, my scores and rank would enable me to get through. But what kind of madness was this? It was near to counting the chickens even before the hen was bought!

Scaling through all this, I still had not figured out 'Why I wanted to be a doctor?'

Maybe it was a noble profession? Maybe a lucrative career option? Maybe you felt like the creator? Maybe it was just a cool thing to do. And so I was going to pursue it, now that I had fallen into it. 

KING EDWARD MEMORIAL HOSPITAL aka KEM.  For lakhs of students, this was Hajj or Kashi. Jerusalem for some, where all their agonies of struggling to be someone respectable ended. For me, they began. 

Having born legs first, straight things were always inverted for me. Where people rejoiced, I walked with a grim face as if I was castrated for life. Studying science for practically 25hrs a day had sucked the life out of my body. I could as well be used as a cadaver to study anatomy. But no, I still responded to obnoxious stimuli and the touch of a scalpel would let out a cry, scaring the hell out of the newbies.

Books and more books, one for reference, another for reading, and the third one for writing exams. The sizes of which varied from large to XL to XXL to XXXL. There was no small or medium or anything near to it. So much the matter, that the print had to be studied with a magnifying glass. Thanks to my geeky life, a pair of spectacles always adorned my muddled vision. So the first year went by smoothly on rocky surfaces. The second year of OPD visits arrived.

"Girls, trim your nails short. Students always wear an apron. No funky nose pins, ear pins or tattoos. Remember you are going to be a doctor!" The AMO( administrative medical officer) announced. Woman, we are going to be doctors and not grey donkeys to shun all the colour from our lives, I felt like shrieking. But all I could do was nod like a Nandi.

No use in wearing funky clothes for the rainbow colours would be permanently clouded white aprons. No need to behave as social animals, for journals and notes, were going to be your close relatives. With all this, again the ghosts of 'Why I wanted to be a doctor?' Tormented me. Maybe karma, something I had learned from a few wise friends to blame.

Life progressed like driving a truck in a narrow alley. No, U turns. Crammed with knowledge, bursting bladders, growling stomachs, starved social life, I finally became an intern.

One day at the OPD, I was with the pediatric resident trying to learn something meaningful about emergency medicine. A woman, in her mid-twenties, rushed in with a small baby in her arms. The baby had swallowed a marble that had lucky stuck near the oropharynx. The child was blue and gasping. The sleeping ER jumped to action immediately. What took over me I couldn't tell. In an instant, I found my fingers in the baby's mouth trying to extract the marble. Ouch!! The baby had sharp canines, biting me anxiously. Yet, better sense prevailed and I kept my fingers gripped tightly on the marble. Unable to control the gag, the baby kicked me frivolously. Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead and a few trickled down my clammy groin. I could see the baby sinking. Eyelids drooping. Shit!!! What had I done? Why I had to jump like an excited frog, seeing an opportunity?

THERE. Finally, I could pull it out! Without looking at the baby, I sank into an ER chair. From there onwards, everything was blurred. Till one day, this woman came searching for me in the wards.

"Doctor, AAP Bhagwan ho!" She wept holding my white coat. The stethoscope dangled as she slipped to my feet. What was happening? Why was she crying as if there was no tomorrow?

"Vaidehi, you helped her save, her only male child. You aren't less than any God to her." The AMO's words made some sense to me. Deep within, I received my first appreciation of being a doctor. An answer of aeons, dawned on me, 'Why I wanted to be a Doctor?'.

Happiness seeped into and there was a lush greeny of victory over self-doubt. Now life progressed as maska on hot tava; difficult yet melting smoothly, emanating inviting aromas. The day of the Hippocratic Oath arrived. Garbed in black cloaks, resembling Hermoine, the stethoscope was my magic wand. To hold the MUHS certificate, for the first time had me goosebumps. Aai, Baba, Dada- all clapped till their sweaty palms were red in elation.

Days snailed into months, the residency was hectic. Patients poured like cheap grains in a ration shop. Poked, worn out, almost dirt and dust, husked off their dignity, they kept coming. One night, a lady in her late thirties was brought with labour pains. It was her fifth delivery and demand for a male child, she was pushed into this labour. Severe bleeding raised blood pressure out of age, she delivered a stillborn! The green surgical apron was red and faces crestfallen, doctors panicked as the relatives broke window panes and hospital types of equipment. A hurling stone hit my forehead and I was dizzy. 

"You are killers! You are murderers!" The accusations hurt more than the injury. Somehow the situation was brought under control with a fellow resident landing in the ICU. As I saw his Aai, Baba, I recalled the happy faces at the graduation. At this very moment, they would be cursing the day, they celebrated their son taking the Hippocratic Oath. Today, KEM stood transfixed in time. It wept tears of helplessness, seeing its torchbearers suffer. The good fellow breathed his last on the day his PG rank was declared. 

Brother, now you can really rest in peace, my sarcasm strong like caustic soda, eroded my own soul.

Again, the ghosts returned 'Why I wanted to be a Doctor?' and this time they stayed forever. They keep popping their heads, when a patient says, "Kya kaala Bazar hai aaj Kal doctors ka?"

 Or when unnecessarily someone suggested, "You shouldn't be charging so much. After all, you are a doctor. Charity should be your aim, not money making." Or when my son says, "What a bore you are Mom? No time to party."

Dr Vaidehi Patil now offers this question to you. Please help her understand 'Why She Wanted to be a Doctor?'