How I Became a Doctor

You see, I had, in my child hood, considered three professions as noble. Teacher, Doctor and Soldier. By the time I was in high school, I evaluated the probability of my becoming any one of these.

I knew I couldn’t be a doctor. You got to be a brilliant student for that. No way. A teacher?  Well, okay, not bad. For a rookie teacher. But then as time passes you got to upgrade yourself (this is even worse for the doctor). Now that means I got to keep on studying not to get trapped in a time warp. Soldier? With my build and all that, that was way out of the question. I could never imagine myself as a valiant soldier on a horse back wielding swords, which I couldn’t even lift as I learnt from my visits to the museums. But I was enamoured by the image of a chivalrous knight saving a girl from distress.

Well, to cut the long story short, I, by the will of God, became an Army Officer.

Oh, no I am jumping. I had become a teacher by teaching some cousins in my early student days and then some others along my long life. An informal teacher. So far so good. Then I became a soldier. What I didn’t know was that not only training, but also perennial studies were mandatory in the Army. No Sir, I hadn’t bargained for that! But you just have to go through. But then, a doctor? I find lately that I have become one and am dishing out advises and remedies to those who care to ask! That is this story all about.

At the age of, I am being so frank about these private things, 64, I underwent a bypass surgery and lo and behold, I became a doctor! I became one, without undergoing that dreaded course of Bachelor of Medicine, as you are clear without my having to repeat it.

To become a doctor, all you have to do is contract some popular disease(s). Here are my qualifications.

·        Dislocated Knee. This happened in the football field. I was executing a scissor kick which I had done so many times before and hence was adept at. But that day the knee turned 90⁰ and I came down like a sack of potatoes. I have a theory as to why this happened. Sometime in my early 20s, when I used to sweat it out in the sports fields and was happy with an odd drink in the Officers’ Mess in that field area, the second-in-command of the Battalion once asked me as to why was I looking tired. I told him about the games. He said “till when will you play? By the time you are 30, your leg or hand will break and that will be the end”. If there is ever a case of casting eyes, I think that was it. I was exactly 30, when my knee busted! But I continued playing all other games, including sailing in Enterprise class boats in Hussain Sagar Lake with the one knee that was cooperative. That is beside the point. I became disabled!

·        NDE. That is Near Death Experience. At the age of 34, due to a splitting headache, I went to the MI (Medical Inspection) Room. The good doctor who was a friend, we all are in a cantonment, gave me a Novalgin.  Since he, for good measure ordered a cup of tea for me, I took the tablet right there. Before the tea arrived I was on the inspection bed, as the medicine had reacted severely. Anaphylactic injection and three bottles of saline followed, the first one at jet speed.  In the mean time he informed the MH (Military Hospital) about my evacuation. I was semiconscious but could hear and know the entire goings on around. He kept slapping my cheeks and kept repeating, “breathe, breathe”. I told him that I wanted to sleep. I felt tremendous peace and a bright light above me. That was my NDE. Total peace. I believe if I had slept, that would have been my final sleep. “You were dying in my hands”, he said later.

·        Pharyngitis. I used to take pride that I never report sick. But when this struck me soon after that fatal reaction, I had to. It was terrible. That was one time I could have stopped smoking. But no. The smoke that lovingly caressed through my throat seemed to soothen the very throat. Those days you could smoke even in the military hospital bed. Oh! Those were the days!

·        Backache. While I was bedridden with that goddamned pharyngitis, I found my back was aching. X-ray told the doctor that I was having a congenital condition! He gave me a lot of warnings. Nothing went into my head. I continued all the twists and jumps. I was not going to succumb! But it appears that the reaction had altered my constitution, which till then I thought was that of a horse!

·        Diabetes. When I was 41, the doctors in the Military Hospital made a hoo haa about my sugar level detected in the annual medical check up and branded me a diabetic. Later, much later, with more qualifications medical, when I happened to check my medical records, I found that my cholesterol level was worse! And they had ignored it. No treatment for that!

·        Spondylities.  I was just 45 when I was told I was a case of chronic spondylosis. Ridiculous, I said. This comes only for old people. Not for young and active ones like me. Only to hear a lecture and an affectionate explanation from the Radiologist and then from the Surgeon. All right; accepted if both say so.

·        Heart Attack. Chronologically at the age of 52, just because I seemed to swoon in the office, they took me to the Military Hospital. After much ado, I got branded as a heart patient. You will not believe this, but the cardiologist told me that I am strong and that my heart is strong! Still he said that I suffer from IHD. If you don’t know what it is, you are lucky. Just a fancy name for heart disease. I became a slave to a host of medicines from then.

·        CABG. If you don’t know what IHD is, how the hell will you know this? God forbid you know these any way. In colloquial terms, I underwent a bypass. At the age of 64.

And with that I qualified.

I found myself being consulted by others. And I dish out advises, free of cost. Though I never had and still do not have BP, even on that I seem to be advising. Knee replacement is another fad now, and there too I am quite well versed. Remember that old dislocated knee? In my list of disabilities and therefore in my advisory capacity, one more may get added, if I act on the remark of my granddaughter who is 16 years old. She recently declared, “You tho, grandpa, are hard of hearing. So...” I am yet to get that certified.

I know I am not alone. All the people who have been on long medications are all “experts”. They can advise and they do on health matters. The difference with me is I do not dish out unsolicited advice. But I will make an exception and give you one unsolicited advice. Because I am seeing one too many who are oppressed by family and friends making one more sick than the disorder itself just because one is on medical advice and drugs. Live life on your own terms; not by what the sadistic doctors, astrologers, family or friends say. I hope you can! Cheers! To your good health and good life. You have a right to enjoy your life.