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Showing posts from April, 2012

In Loving memory of Oncology

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Guest post   So again, I woke up to the dreadful fact that it’s (med) school no more! You can’t go late to the ward or bunk a patient (*sigh*). It’s always the same every morning, feeling of staying some more time snugged in the bed and till date I feel the same. Beside my wishes, my alarm is quite loud-mouthed. It keeps screaming until I wake up. And the patient’s census guessing start right from the bed, “OMG, I’m already late,’I think we have to follow 15, hmmm, 18 patients.. God knows how many admissions last night. Ahh, Dr. Shayan must be waiting, let’s be quick ‘. So I get ready to reach private wing, with the same wishes in my head. Not to mention the pager hunting in my bag, securing the meal coupons and yeah the much talked about ID card. And the day begins…. A day in Oncology rotation; Oh simple things, where have you gone? So I reached private wing, where the young man at the counter known as UR throws the same old question, before I could even take a breath,” Are y

Meri rahain, meray rastay

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Clinic completes early. So I have an hour, extra and free to my life. The passage from the clinics till B2 oncall rooms is both long and interesting. It gives you a long walk to think. If the day was nice the path is smiley, if the day was not so smooth, you are all the more bitter. So you climb down the flight of stairs, pass through Nazeraliwalji. Three minutes pass There is a lot of construction underway. They are building a two story building. And its building up every day.You have to almost take a u turn and you can see the main building. On this route you see a lot of young and not so young men  with ties. Then comes the round about of the main building. Here if there is an aunty or not so aunty, she makes sure she scans you. She thinks that because you work here so you are highly paid and follow the latest fashion trends. I make sure I throw a smile and move on before she starts to make an effort to smile back. The main entrance is crossed. On the left is the bo

A different world

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Monday ‘What a facility’, I think to myself. I wake up with a heavy heart. Its floors no more. The whole month is supposed to be clinicking. Mondays are supposed to be the toughest. Clinic starts at twelve but will start early (as some other consultant’s clinic is cancelled). I text Dr Asif about when exactly should I reach hospital. ‘At nine’, comes the reply. Nine seems like ages away. A whole extra hour.  I usually leave home at quarter to eight and a fifteen minutes drive takes me to hospital. Its nine when I reach hospital. I hit the on call rooms. From there I call the clinic counter number. They tell me clinic starts at ten. I reach there at quarter to ten. “I’m Dr Zarka”, I introduce myself. The staff there turns around to have a look. “Oh so we finally get to see you today, for the last three months, we have been listening to you via phone only!”, one of the staff beams. I return a smile. Its more of a grimace.   I start with my first patient. Sara’s words echo in my mi