Science, Stories and Sevagram: A Physician-Teacher’s Reflections
Clinical stories and reflections on evidence-based medicine, research, and patient care.
Yesterday, I wrote about the miracle pill that found a home in every drawer and pocket. Today, I reflect on the post-miracle buzz—the warnings about its darker side, from weakened bones to fading B12 stores, and the delicate balance of clinical care.
An hour from now, I will be sitting in the Medicine OPD, thinking about a drug that the whole world seems to prescribe. This modest little tablet, born to tame the fire of acid, has quietly conquered the globe without firing a single shot.
Dilip arrived in my outpatient room and settled on the stool with the solemnity of a man about to announce something of national importance. “I have a stone in the gall bladder,” he declared. He did not sound like one in distress, but rather like someone unveiling a secret possession. I leaned forward. “Yes, but … Read more
I must admit that I, too, was—and still am—a medical teacher who guided—or is misguided the more appropriate word?—over three dozen postgraduates in writing their MD theses. I do not wish to stand on a pedestal or adopt a “holier than thou” posture. I have erred, misjudged, behaved badly, mishandled situations, and at times, been … Read more
“So, what’s up?” I asked the young postgraduate from a neighbouring medical college. He had just run into me on the road. “I’ve finished my thesis, sir,” he said, sounding both relieved and battle-weary. “Now preparing for the MD exams—just two months to go.” “That’s done?” I raised my eyebrows. “Already?” “Yes, sir,” he nodded. … Read more
Another DNB thesis lands in my inbox—joining its MD cousins. My task is to evaluate it. A formality, really. The postgraduate has written it, the professor has supervised it—or so the paperwork claims. I enter the username, type the password, and open the file—without hope. An immaculate PDF appears. Crisp formatting. Polished grammar. Elegant English. … Read more
She was just 33. At first glance, she looked heavy. And she was—79 kilos. That’s not what we usually see. Most women who come to us are thin, often undernourished, their bodies shaped by years of poverty and hard work. But her weight was hiding something. A lump in her breast had grown quietly for … Read more
Shankar sat on the old wooden bench outside his workshop, absently rubbing his rough, unshaven chin. The bright sparks of welding had once lit up his face, but now it was worn, lined with worry. He had battled difficult customers, unpaid bills, and broken machines, but this was different. This was a fight he knew … Read more
Radhika was never one for outbursts. But that day, as she lay in the hospital bed, her voice shattered the silence like a storm. Her eyes burned with fury. “How dare you talk to me?” she shouted, her chest rising and falling with anger. “Get out! Don’t come near me! Don’t touch me!” Her words … Read more
“Stop this vomiting,” she said firmly, her voice steady enough to make even the nurse stop fidgeting with the clipboard. “Ease the pain a little. Once I gather some strength, I’ll take you to my village. You’ll sit on the mud floor, eating from banana leaves. Hot jowar bhakris, fresh off the chullah, with just … Read more