Nursing blunders…..

Well… my previous post was abt the nurses and their shortcomings.

This one is also in the similar vein.
My sis who read the post, mentioned a similar experience that my father had while he was hospitalized. He was 80 plus and was a true representative of his times…aloof, quiet, dignified and not used to physical touch even by his own children. But as fate would have it, he was in for an unpleasant experience.
The young nurses and the nurse trainees, used to surround him, call him ‘thatha’ and pinch his cheeks and giggle, saying that he is very cute. Dad hated that with all his heart, but how sad, he couldn’t do anything about it as the nurses giggled more when he said that he doesn’t like to be touched…
My sis had no idea that such a thing was happening as she had no access to the ICU. She came to know all about it only after he was shifted out of the ICU.
I wish that the  nurses were taught that the patients lying down totally helpless in the hospital bed wearing those silly gowns would also have been highly learned, and might have held high and powerful positions in their lives and that people might have looked upon them with respect and fear.

Mallu nurses

They say that Punjabi girls make the best air hostesses, Kerala girls make the best nurses, and the tamil girls make the best maths teachers! I have no issues with punjabi girls and tamil girls….but this ‘mallu girls making the best nurses’ I have some qualms about it. The statement could be ‘most of the mallu girls become nurses’.I have made such a blunt observation out of my own experience as an inpatient in the hospitals.

Even in high end hospitals, nurses are under paid and overworked. The  20 something mallu girls  who look malnourished, underweight, manage to put on a plastic smile, address the patients  as ‘aundy, ungle’ and go about their work systematically. But if an extraordinary situation arises, where they have to respond orally to the patient, they are at a loss. Most of them are no good in English nor can they speak Hindi as they hail from non hindi belt. Even if they speak these languages, it sounds more like Malayalam than English or Hindi. So they choose to work silently…Here is how it is…
It was one of my chemo sessions.  The intravenous  bottle was fixed and the needle was stuck in my port. The nurse went on turning my head this side, that side and all sides for a few minutes..I got annoyed and demanded to know what was happening..The girl was frightened and ran to her senior, who came to me and explained that the flow was not satisfactory and that the nurse was adjusting the position of my head and neck…I said the nurse should have told me that and also instructed me, ‘turn your head to left, right, up, down etc.’..instead of manipulating me like a rag doll..
Now in retrospect, I can understand that the young thing was
lacking in communication and performed what she knew, silently.
Hope the mallu girls learn the art of talking and live up to their reputation!

The Title

470702_243130412461572_1111715003_oWhy this title ‘Arrow at the dark’.

You know that I am a cancer survivor and like every one of those thousands and thousands of survivors, I too went through a bout of severe depression.
 At that time I didn’t realize it was depression. I was angry, skeptical, rude, dictating, defying, and so on, which are all not my normal characteristic traits. I thought that I was talking like an intelligent, well informed, learned lady from the upper strata and questioned my doctors, nurses and other health care providers, and even challenged their actions.
All of them were defensive of their statements, actions and put on an expression, ‘oh..we know, you are a patient and behaving as unreasonably as a patient would.’  The smirk in the face, and the all knowing attitude annoyed me, and I started shutting them out.
It was at that time, Amol Pradhan, an anesthesiologist who had the misfortune of putting me off to sleep on the Operation table four times within a short span of 40days, helped me come out of my anger.
He said that treating cancer is like shooting an arrow at the darkness hoping that it reaches the target. Since it is dark, we have to shoot many many arrows that would destroy other things as well.
This wisdom, this simplicity, this humble admission of trial and error, restored my faith in the attempts of the doctors.
Isn’t it very ironical, that an anesthesiologist , who is not seen, heard or spoken to by a patient, is the one who helped me become my normal self?
He went to the extent of asking me what are my favorite songs and playing it in the operation theatre before i could fall asleep. He has held my hand several times.
So, now nearly after 150 days since my treatment began, here i am, writing a blog, and what better title than the words of Amol.
‘An Arrow at the darkness’
( P.S.)   You may wonder why it is an arrow ‘at’ the dark, and not ‘into’ the dark!.
Simple.. That preposition was not available, so i took the liberty to use ‘at’ and moreover i didn’t want any other title.

What it’s about

1052619_438363752938236_1947041052_oWhat is it about

Well……i dont know really…
I made this blog thinking that i would post some of my thoughts, doubts, fears, maybe some wicked n vicious thoughts as well, as i go through this life changing( life challenging!) illness called ‘carcinoma’

It may not be a chronicle of medications, side effects, cure etc. it would be more of the roller coaster ride of emotions. well.. thats what it is supposed to be…But just as the title says its going to be an arrow shot at the darkness by an unpracticed hand. it may not reach anywhere.. I may not even complete this post…Even if i complete, i may not be interested in reading it again…..Let us see….