Marushka Barbosa
Dad, a patient thanked me for saving his son’s life today.”
“Ma, I saw my patient complete a bed transfer today”
“I witnessed my wheelchair bound patient take his first steps today”
How do we tell the same parents that today I was abused for not attending to a patient because of peak hour rush, that I was grabbed by the collar.
That a mob of 150 people stormed into the hospital armed with sticks, glass shards and bricks, blood boiling over the death of a terminally-ill patient. How do I tell them that I now lie in the critical care unit of a hospital fighting for my life?
In an American Journal published in 1994, a paragraph reads as follows, ‘No physician, however conscientious or careful, can tell what day or hour he may not be the object of some undeserved attack, malicious accusation, black mail or suit for damages…. This serves as an epiphany and a foreboding as to how common it is and was for patients and their relatives to commit crimes against doctors
A newspaper article in a national daily dated May 4, 2015 stated that more than 75% of doctors across the country have faced at least some form of violence as per initial findings of an ongoing study by the Indian medical association (IMA).
The data for this research was collected from the 2010, and showed that escorts of patients committed 68.33% of the violence. But, what we are overlooking is that a lot of these crimes are not reported. Because doctors understand the situation of relatives who are in distress and do not report such cases.
In 2017, the World Health Organization stated, “Between 8-38% of doctors suffer physical violence at some point in their careers. Many more are threatened or exposed to verbal aggression.”
There are numerous articles, newspaper reports, case studies done which show that assault on medical professionals is a Public Health emergency.
Can we please wake up and smell the coffee! This isn’t a new story. This isn’t one where the villain gets punished and the hero lives happily ever after. This isn’t one where people realize that they are at fault. These doctors are unsung heroes, the ones who stay up with cups of coffee, just so your relative can sleep a painless sleep.
It is understandable, the anguish and despair family members face when a loved one is critical. It is understandable to express anger at the death of a loved one. But why is this anger directed towards the very person attempting to save your loved one’s life?
In the last 4 years, as a student of a prestigious medical government college, it’s not difficult to see the stress and strain that our interns, residents and other medical professionals go through.
The sheer amount of patient input that our hospital faces is unbelievable - the family may have long waiting periods before the patient could speak to a doctor, and may feel that the doctor isn’t doing their best in treating their patient but in the end, help is always provided. For a doctor, the patient is their priority.
What is the root of all this?
One would account it to numbers. The poor doctor-patient ratio or the lack of infrastructure, the increasing need for people to resort to tertiary care hospitals instead of seeking help from the primary and secondary health centers for minor problems, but one would also notice a change in the mindset and psychology of the patient, the once humbled patient who would thank the doctor profusely, touch their feet and call them God has now resorted to using violence, abuse and the title of murderer. This blame game will only end in various organizations pointing fingers at each other- the media, the government and the judiciary.
In 2010, the Doctors Protection Act was established, which proposed harsher punishment for the perpetrators of violence in hospitals, but in vain. While fear of the law is a significant deterrent for many crimes, this does not seem to be true in the case of healthcare.
We need to come up with a definitive plan of action to tackle this problem. And we need to do it now.
Our society needs to know that no medical professional enters a hospital with the intention of causing harm to a patient.
We learn from our mistakes and we cannot promise wonders in the face of limited facilities.
For every doctor that has ever faced an insult or received a physical assault, for each member of the medical fraternity who haven’t raised their voice over the countless incidents of abuse, we stand by you.
This is a direct question posed to the government of India: How many more injuries, how much more vandalism and destruction will it take?
Is this the situation we want to leave for future students aspiring to be doctors? When there is so much fear inculcated, how will the desire to serve the country arise?
I’d like to end with the words of Dr Pillai Vishnu, “Allow us to treat you without fear. Allow us to save lives without the fear of losing ours.”
