{"id":3405,"date":"2026-01-23T11:49:22","date_gmt":"2026-01-23T17:19:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/books.kalantri.co.in\/?page_id=3405"},"modified":"2026-03-01T21:40:16","modified_gmt":"2026-03-02T03:10:16","slug":"ipads-at-the-bedside","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/sp.kalantri.co.in\/gmc73\/paper-and-digital\/ipads-at-the-bedside\/","title":{"rendered":"iPads at the Bedside"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

In 2011, we decided to attempt something that felt, in equal measure, obvious and audacious: we wanted to make our hospital data mobile. While our Hospital Information System had matured impressively on desktops, the reality of medicine is that patient care is rarely a desk job. It happens at the bedside, during the chaotic rhythm of ward rounds, in the corridors, and in those critical, fleeting minutes when a junior doctor must make a decision that is both quick and correct. The question we faced was simple: Could we carry the hospital\u2019s brain in our hands?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We began the search for a technology partner capable of translating our complex, desktop-based HIS into an iPad application that was fast, clean, and devoid of clutter. Ashwini introduced me to Sourcebits, a Bengaluru-based company whose portfolio had caught his eye. One of their applications, Night Stand HD<\/em>, had reportedly crossed four million downloads in four months\u2014a figure that sounded almost fictitious to me at the time. Yet, it signaled that they understood the three things we needed most: design, usability, and scale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sourcebits was founded in 2006 by Dr. Rohit Singal, a radiologist who possessed the restless instincts of an entrepreneur. He had ridden the early wave of the iPhone ecosystem, building hundreds of apps across various platforms. Their reputation was robust enough for us to take the gamble; we walked them through our workflow, explained the intricacies of the HIS, and awarded a contract of \u20b930 lakh to build an interface for MGIMS.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

Building the Bridge<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n

Two individuals became the backbone of this project: Amit Pandey, a partner at Sourcebits, and Farzan Siddiqui, a dedicated software engineer. Over the next nine months, they worked with a steady, quiet persistence, supported by colleagues like Giridhar Krishnamurthy, Girish Karudi, Shashank Lagvankar, and Vivek Menon. My own role was less glamorous but perhaps more relentless; I became the bridge between the doctors who demanded perfection and the developers who dealt in code.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our weeks were consumed by Webex sessions, long email chains, and repeated face-to-face discussions where we dissected the user experience. We agonized over hundreds of granular decisions\u2014what data should appear instantly, what could afford to be one click away, and what must never be buried under a menu. Naturally, we faced the predictable friction of digital transformation: server breakdowns, connectivity drops, database glitches, and the stubborn, technical challenge of importing high-resolution radiology images smoothly onto a handheld screen. We did not solve these issues in one dramatic stroke of genius; we solved them the way hospitals solve complex cases\u2014step by step, with stubborn patience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In January 2013, I met the Sourcebits team in Bengaluru. By then, the project had acquired both momentum and shape \u2014 and we were ready to build.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

The Clarity of the Image<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n
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\"iPad
Kasturba Hospital, Sevagram. A cardiac patient’s discharge summary, generated on an iPad at the point of care. Rural India, a decade and a half ahead of most.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I still remember the distinct professional thrill of seeing radiology images on an iPad for the first time. The CT and MRI scans appeared with a clarity that felt almost indulgent; we could scroll, zoom, and review complex anatomy without having to huddle around a single shared desktop in a crowded nursing station. Even routine lab values began to look smarter, as blood glucose and creatinine transformed from scattered numbers into coherent graphs. Trends became visible, and consequently, decisions became quicker.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The app also allowed doctors to place orders electronically\u2014tests, medications, procedures\u2014without the inefficiency of running back and forth between wards and terminals. The interface was clean, responsive, and surprisingly intuitive. For the first time, our HIS felt less like a passive record-keeping tool and more like an active clinical partner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

The Point of Care<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n

Once the iPads arrived, they didn’t just sit in boxes; they went into the pockets of our residents, and the change in culture was immediate. The old habit of “I\u2019ll check and get back to you” began to wither. Instead of chasing paper slips through corridors, doctors stayed at the bedside because the data followed the doctor, not the other way around. Information, once trapped in the heat and hum of a computer room, was suddenly portable, living in corridors and on call-duty. It was no longer a static record; it was alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I recall a specific morning in the OPD when I showed a patient his blood glucose trends on the iPad screen. In our villages, people often speak with their eyes rather than their tongues. He didn’t say much, but as he looked at the graph, I saw a shift in his understanding. He wasn’t looking at a mysterious medical verdict; he was looking at his own life mapped out in front of him, finally understanding why the medicine mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n