The Way We Are. By Abdul Qayyum
Dear Naghmi and Nauman:
First of all, all the praise and thanks for both of you as from many days, nobody was daring to expose his or her life on our blog. Nauman, I leave the English and grammar corrections for your Oxford English capabilities. I joined Pediatrics not by choice but by no other choice. As unluckily, I was awarded fail in Medicine, so Naghmi was my senior in Pediatrics ward.
The day we were selecting the house jobs, I was destined to choose Ophthalmology, but to my good luck, the job was available in Prof Muneer's (Bakrot) ward only. I could not have dared to do that, so next in line was Neonatology house job at Lady Wellington Hospital with rotation to Mayo Pediatrics. I opted for it but Prof Bakrot said harshly “This job is only for girls as this is in LWH". He pointed to another professor and commented “Eh munda kurian wich jaa kay ke karay ga" so I was refused and was asked to choose some other ward. I got angry and walked out without selecting the job. Outside the gang of remaining supplee holders was waiting and I told them the story. I think it was Javed who went in and said that we will not take house jobs if Qayyum is not granted the choice at merit. Moulvi Muneer angrily called me in and granted me the permission to be with the girls of LWH. That is how I end up being a pediatrician and I never regretted my decision as the colleagues in Pediatrics who were luckily my class fellows helped a lot and Naghmi was one of them.
The story narrated by Naghmi about one dead baby was funny, but I think it was not Aqeel, it was Dr Williyat (our junior) who did all the effort to find out the baby, or I may be wrong, as it may have happened before I joined my seniors.
Later at some stage, I will continue with the remaining part as still I am on the first year after graduation.
Qayyum
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Way We Are. By Naghmi Shirin
Yahya and Nauman have given a beautiful description of their lives after graduation. I thought a lot of people would come up with their stories but perhaps the doctors are the hardest working lot and most pressed for time. Though it takes a lot of effort to pick up the pen but once you start writing then you enjoy it.
I had decided to take up paediatrics when i went through rotation of paedes ward in 4th year. Prof Shaukat Raza Khan was the most gentle and dedicated person I have ever seen. Moreover, when I looked at babies and they smiled back at me, I knew that i would enjoy this specialty (though later I found that they cried more than they smiled).
In final professional MBBS, I was awarded the Burton Brown Silver Medal for standing first in clinical medicine. When i was asked to choose my house job by the board of professors, without hesitation I said "paediatrics", though one of the profs had advised me to take up medicine instead..Anyhow, I enjoyed my house job thoroughly and learnt a lot.
Here i found out that most of our class fellows were very ''Shareef "and a great company. Abdul Qayyum, Aqeel Haider, Israr, Amir Qazi were not only very good in their work but were very pleasant. Most of the time we helped each other against the wrath of professors. There used to be a morning conference
Daily, where we had to present any deaths over the last 24 hours.We always dreaded the questions from Prof Sahib. Once a death occurred in nursery and the body was handed over to the wrong family. They left for their village at night. After a few hours, the mistake was realized. Aqeel was on duty in the nursery. He took the address and left for their village. As the address was not complete, he resorted to announcements from their local mosque. After a hectic effort throughout the night, he was back with the body of the baby before morning, much to the applause of everybody. I think only a dedicated soldier like him could do that.
After my post graduation, I was selected as Dist. Paediatrician. There we had the first brush with the how the things are conducted in Pakistan. The DDs, DHOs the MS type of people don’t like people who are better qualified. So we decided at a very early stage to have our own set up. By the grace of God, we had a very good response and we said good-bye to Govt job and have never regretted our decision. I also worked as a consultant to a trust hospital. Since i loved children, so i have always enjoyed my work.
Recently ,my husband who is an orthopaedic surgeon, has started his pain clinic and I help him along because he is often overworked .I am learning pain management techniques and more over we can spend more time together... I think, all of us, where both the spouses are working should take a break and give more time to each other.
Yahya and Nauman have given a beautiful description of their lives after graduation. I thought a lot of people would come up with their stories but perhaps the doctors are the hardest working lot and most pressed for time. Though it takes a lot of effort to pick up the pen but once you start writing then you enjoy it.
I had decided to take up paediatrics when i went through rotation of paedes ward in 4th year. Prof Shaukat Raza Khan was the most gentle and dedicated person I have ever seen. Moreover, when I looked at babies and they smiled back at me, I knew that i would enjoy this specialty (though later I found that they cried more than they smiled).
In final professional MBBS, I was awarded the Burton Brown Silver Medal for standing first in clinical medicine. When i was asked to choose my house job by the board of professors, without hesitation I said "paediatrics", though one of the profs had advised me to take up medicine instead..Anyhow, I enjoyed my house job thoroughly and learnt a lot.
Here i found out that most of our class fellows were very ''Shareef "and a great company. Abdul Qayyum, Aqeel Haider, Israr, Amir Qazi were not only very good in their work but were very pleasant. Most of the time we helped each other against the wrath of professors. There used to be a morning conference
Daily, where we had to present any deaths over the last 24 hours.We always dreaded the questions from Prof Sahib. Once a death occurred in nursery and the body was handed over to the wrong family. They left for their village at night. After a few hours, the mistake was realized. Aqeel was on duty in the nursery. He took the address and left for their village. As the address was not complete, he resorted to announcements from their local mosque. After a hectic effort throughout the night, he was back with the body of the baby before morning, much to the applause of everybody. I think only a dedicated soldier like him could do that.
After my post graduation, I was selected as Dist. Paediatrician. There we had the first brush with the how the things are conducted in Pakistan. The DDs, DHOs the MS type of people don’t like people who are better qualified. So we decided at a very early stage to have our own set up. By the grace of God, we had a very good response and we said good-bye to Govt job and have never regretted our decision. I also worked as a consultant to a trust hospital. Since i loved children, so i have always enjoyed my work.
Recently ,my husband who is an orthopaedic surgeon, has started his pain clinic and I help him along because he is often overworked .I am learning pain management techniques and more over we can spend more time together... I think, all of us, where both the spouses are working should take a break and give more time to each other.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Life After KE
Nauman Mufti
After I passed my finals, the paid house jobs I could get were Cardiac Surgery and Chest Diseases. Cardiac Surgery was also called Thundi Ward because it was entirely air-conditioned. Summer was upon us and I loved being in an air-conditioned ward. While on call one weekend, I heard a lot of commotion. Loud noises were coming from the lower entrance next to Cardiology Ward. I went down-stairs. The gatekeeper at the entrance came rushing to me. He said Doctor Sahib there is a strange guy on a bicycle who wants to enter the hospital. He claims the he is a Professor. He pointed towards the person who was wearing a tracksuit and sweating from head to toe. I looked at the person and turning to the gatekeeper, I said, please let him in. He is indeed our Professor of Surgery, Col. Cheema.
The other surgeon we had was Dr. Jawaad Ahmad. He was the nephew of Ashfaq Ahmed, my most favorite author, intellectual and human being of the highest order. After a successful surgery, Dr. Jawaad would treat all house officers with delicious home cooked feast. However, during surgery he was the most fearsome of any surgeons, I encountered. He would throw instruments and his shouting curse words, though not directed at me, made my hands tremble. I remember after my first thoracotomy, which went flawlessly, he said to me Nauman, you should think seriously about becoming a cardiac surgeon. What he did not know was that when I had picked up the saw for thoracotomy, I had prayed to Allah, O Allah please do not let me harm this patient and I promise you I will never pick up the saw again. Allah helped through the surgery and I kept my promise.
After my paid house jobs, I wanted to do a house job in a Medical Ward. I vividly remember that one professor took his pen out to grant me the permission to do an honorary house job. He casually asked me so when are you going to take your PLAB. I said, never. I am going to USA. He put the pen back on his lab coat, without signing my application. This was the first symptom of the foot-in-mouth disease I suffer from. I have the knack of saying the first thing that comes in my mind, without assessing the consequences.
After my house job, I applied for many jobs within Lahore but had no luck. I finally found a job in Chak 25 GB (Guddu Barrage), a village near Okara. It was a Basic Health Unit (BHU). There was a residence for the Medical officer. I would have loved to live there and serve the village people however, there was a problem. The village people were using it to house their buffalos. Moreover, I was told that the electricity was disconnected because local people were stealing it to light their houses. I could get it connected without much trouble, provided I paid the outstanding bill. It was Rs 20,000. Being that my ‘salary’ was Rs. 2,000; my first 10 months salary would go towards paying the bill. In addition, they were not willing to accept installments. I was keen on doing the job so I decided to commute from my Temple Road residence. I would get my bus from Mozang Chungi at 6 AM to Okara. From Okara, I took another bus to reach Chuk 25. This bus was always crowded, packed with villagers and their animals. I reached the BHU by Noon after 6 hours. There were 20-30 patients politely waiting for me. I would then see patients, some of whom had never seen a physician. They were indeed very grateful. At 3 PM, it was time to head home for the 6 hr trip back home. After couple of weeks, my parents, who had by then moved to Lahore from Karachi, grew worried. One day I asked my Dispenser, if it was okay if I skipped a day every once in a while. Surprisingly, he was very pleased. Then he told me that that the doctor before me, never bothered to come at all and he (the dispenser) ran the BHU. He told me that I could do the same. I could not do that. Finally, we decided that I would come every other day. I felt very guilty, but 14 hr days were beginning to take their toll and my salary was barely covering the bus fare.
Luckily, after only 3 months at Chuk 25, I found what I thought was a better job in Shamke Bhattian only 40 km south of Lahore. What happened there is a story for another day.
Nauman Mufti
After I passed my finals, the paid house jobs I could get were Cardiac Surgery and Chest Diseases. Cardiac Surgery was also called Thundi Ward because it was entirely air-conditioned. Summer was upon us and I loved being in an air-conditioned ward. While on call one weekend, I heard a lot of commotion. Loud noises were coming from the lower entrance next to Cardiology Ward. I went down-stairs. The gatekeeper at the entrance came rushing to me. He said Doctor Sahib there is a strange guy on a bicycle who wants to enter the hospital. He claims the he is a Professor. He pointed towards the person who was wearing a tracksuit and sweating from head to toe. I looked at the person and turning to the gatekeeper, I said, please let him in. He is indeed our Professor of Surgery, Col. Cheema.
The other surgeon we had was Dr. Jawaad Ahmad. He was the nephew of Ashfaq Ahmed, my most favorite author, intellectual and human being of the highest order. After a successful surgery, Dr. Jawaad would treat all house officers with delicious home cooked feast. However, during surgery he was the most fearsome of any surgeons, I encountered. He would throw instruments and his shouting curse words, though not directed at me, made my hands tremble. I remember after my first thoracotomy, which went flawlessly, he said to me Nauman, you should think seriously about becoming a cardiac surgeon. What he did not know was that when I had picked up the saw for thoracotomy, I had prayed to Allah, O Allah please do not let me harm this patient and I promise you I will never pick up the saw again. Allah helped through the surgery and I kept my promise.
After my paid house jobs, I wanted to do a house job in a Medical Ward. I vividly remember that one professor took his pen out to grant me the permission to do an honorary house job. He casually asked me so when are you going to take your PLAB. I said, never. I am going to USA. He put the pen back on his lab coat, without signing my application. This was the first symptom of the foot-in-mouth disease I suffer from. I have the knack of saying the first thing that comes in my mind, without assessing the consequences.
After my house job, I applied for many jobs within Lahore but had no luck. I finally found a job in Chak 25 GB (Guddu Barrage), a village near Okara. It was a Basic Health Unit (BHU). There was a residence for the Medical officer. I would have loved to live there and serve the village people however, there was a problem. The village people were using it to house their buffalos. Moreover, I was told that the electricity was disconnected because local people were stealing it to light their houses. I could get it connected without much trouble, provided I paid the outstanding bill. It was Rs 20,000. Being that my ‘salary’ was Rs. 2,000; my first 10 months salary would go towards paying the bill. In addition, they were not willing to accept installments. I was keen on doing the job so I decided to commute from my Temple Road residence. I would get my bus from Mozang Chungi at 6 AM to Okara. From Okara, I took another bus to reach Chuk 25. This bus was always crowded, packed with villagers and their animals. I reached the BHU by Noon after 6 hours. There were 20-30 patients politely waiting for me. I would then see patients, some of whom had never seen a physician. They were indeed very grateful. At 3 PM, it was time to head home for the 6 hr trip back home. After couple of weeks, my parents, who had by then moved to Lahore from Karachi, grew worried. One day I asked my Dispenser, if it was okay if I skipped a day every once in a while. Surprisingly, he was very pleased. Then he told me that that the doctor before me, never bothered to come at all and he (the dispenser) ran the BHU. He told me that I could do the same. I could not do that. Finally, we decided that I would come every other day. I felt very guilty, but 14 hr days were beginning to take their toll and my salary was barely covering the bus fare.
Luckily, after only 3 months at Chuk 25, I found what I thought was a better job in Shamke Bhattian only 40 km south of Lahore. What happened there is a story for another day.
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