A PATIENT IS A LIVING TEXT BOOK! - 3
A PATIENT IS A LIVING TEXT BOOK ! - 3
It is nearly 20 years ago. Kondiba Dhondiba, a man aged 40
years, farmer by occupation, was brought to me by his relatives from his
hometown Wai, for treatment of his back ache. He was suffering from
tuberculosis of the spine and I advised him both medical and surgical
treatment. The relatives wanted to know how much that would cost. I quoted some
figure. Kondiba and his relatives consented both to the treatment and the cost
and left promising to bring Kondiba back the next day.
Next day came, but not Kondiba. He just disappeared. I was
hurt a bit. Weeks passed by and I forgot Kondiba and his case, when, three
months later, he was again brought to my clinic. He had to be literally carried
by his relatives. He had become very pale and weak. The disease had advanced
considerably and a fresh complication had set in. Kondiba had become
paraplegic. I was quite upset to see him in this shape, lost my temper, raised
my voice and told off the relatives in no uncertain terms. I told Kondiba that
I would not be able to treat him. He heard me out patiently and left, obviously
depressed.
Toward evening, when I had done with the day's work, I
became uneasy. Was I justified in refusing to treat Kondiba without finding out
why he had not come for treatment earlier? That night I could not sleep a wink.
The first thing I did next morning was to find his whereabouts and get him to
come to see me. "Kondiba" I asked him, "why did you not come for
treatment after I examined you for the first time?".
He was shy, awkward and nervous. He replied: "Doctor
saab, I did not have enough money and all my efforts to raise the amount vou
drew blank"!
It was now my turn to look small. I felt thoroughly ashamed
at having refused to see him when he came for the second time. Without a word
more, I had him admitted straightaway and treated him free of charge. Kondiba
improved and in due course returned to Wai. He is so grateful that everytime he
comes to Bombay, he makes it a point to call on me; and he never fails to bring
me something from his farm as a token of his love. Further he sends me all
those friends and acquaintances of his who need help, not necessarily
orthopaedic, for guidance and treatment by me. Kondiba's case was an eye-opener
for me and since then I have never turned away a patient because he could not
afford to pay. My temper, the has quietened down. Medicine, I now know, is a
noble profession, not just a business.