Passion…unbridled

This post deals with depression in physicians (and no, it has nothing to do with me). An estimated 300 physicians die by suicide in the U.S. per year. Physicians who took their lives were less likely to be receiving mental health treatment compared with
non- physicians who took their lives even though depression was found to be a significant risk factor at approximately the same rate in both groups.

I had never thought I would live to recount

This story, I was convinced I could not surmount

The veil of depression that had me shrouded

In abject despondency my life had been clouded

I was losing my purpose as a physician

Helplessly battling what I knew was clinical depression

Unable to seek help-the stakes were too high

The stigma was strong- and ashamed was I

The never ending demands in professional life

Infiltrating into personal space, causing strife

At home- had driven me to my wit’s end

That I was normal, I could no longer pretend…

*

In a flood of depression somehow I had made up my mind

To end my life – no peace I could find

I stood on the bridge, saying my last prayer

What happened next, I’m not quite aware

A gentle tap on my shoulder woke me from my trance

Someone exclaimed- “there’s the doctor who gave me a second chance”

I turned to find what can best be described

As a smile that was as genuine as it was wide

Belonging to a patient who had been treated by me

Several years ago- from death’s door to an astounding recovery

I had spent days and nights by her bedside

Her remarkable recovery had been to me a source of pride

*

Being worldly-wise, I suspect she did comprehend

That my life I was contemplating to end

Because very quietly she took my hand in hers

Looked me in the eye, and with all the experience of her years

In a soothing voice she reminded me

That if I could fight for her, I could fight definitely

For myself- she made me recall

Why I was a physician, why after my fall

I needed to get up, not wither away

I might have saved her once, she saved me that day…

*

I turned, went back home in gratitude

Forced myself to adopt a proactive attitude

I sought professional help to manage my depression

Found myself again, found enthusiasm for my profession

*

Someone was watching out for me that day

My work is not done- I still need to stay…

 

This piece reflects the dilemma of all the immigrants who have a hyphenated tag to their identity- reflecting their ethnicity and the country they (or their ancestors) immigrated to- eg. Indian-American

Have a unique identity, I am told

Be your true self, be authentic, be bold

But what am I supposed to do

When my hyphenated identity is confusing to you?

*

I am expected to switch constantly

Between the two sides of my hyphenated identity

Depending on the need of the situation

I am expected to change colors like a chameleon

*

Sometimes I’m confused, which side to display

Leaning towards one or the other can sway

My experience of the moment from positive to negative

This is a constant conundrum through which I live

*

Halves of me I try to project as whole

Sometimes it feels like impersonation to my soul

I struggle with being authentic, being true to my form

My hybrid hyphenated identity does not with expectations conform

*

The two sides of the hyphen represent

An amalgamation of two cultures, two languages, two accents

I am that hybrid, that amalgam, you see

Let me stay true to this identity

When we talk of patriarchy it’s almost implied

It has only affected women worldwide

The really short end of the stick they’ve received

While men do as they please, so is perceived

Now let me frame this in a different way

It might be controversial, what I have to say

I think men are victims, equally

At the hands of a patriarchal society

Taught to behave a certain way from an early age

Bottling up emotions that turns into rage

Buried under the weight of societal expectations

Trying to project strength during stressful situations….

Toxic masculinity results when patriarchy prevails

Oppression of women increases, the social structure fails

To preserve the balance it was supposed to maintain

Neither women nor men unaffected remain..

No one benefits from gender hegemony

Imbalance of power is the worst enemy

Equality, not feminism, is the need of the hour

Equal recognition, equal expectations, equal power…

After driving through the rush hour traffic, I am proud

I have managed to make it tonight, to be part of this crowd

Until I look around and see that all around me

Are mothers well-dressed in all their finery

I touch my messy bun from which strands of my hair

Have escaped haphazardly, revealing how little I care

About my appearance- I am the only one here at parents’ night

In my uniform – hospital scrubs, I just don’t look right

Suddenly I feel very self-conscious, I want to leave

Other women are certainly judging me, I believe

They probably think I’m quite disorganized

That this was an event to dress for, I had not realized

*

The best-dressed of them all catches my eye

She makes me jealous with her elegance, I won’t lie

Then I guess in an effort to soothe my insecurity

I tell myself that all she does is probably just look pretty

While I work hard day and night saving lives

I don’t need to compare myself to trophy wives

Who have the luxury of spending their husbands’ money

On grooming, expensive outfits and jewelry

*

Of course I have not realized that in my fear

Of being judged, I am the one judging here

The woman in question strikes a conversation with me

When I mention my busy schedule, to my surprise she

Recounts how as the top executive at a multinational company

She had a late meeting and had to run just like me

Her perfect outfit that exemplifies elegance

Was for her important meeting, to project confidence

*

How mistaken was my assumption, I then realize

And look at all the other women with a new set of eyes

Unlikely I’m being judged and I certainly have no right

To judge others by their appearance tonight..

*

Don’t judge a book by its cover, they say

Don’t judge at all is the lesson I’ve learnt today!

Let me ask you this question, please do not mind

How would you feel if you were defined

By what you lack, not what you possess

I suspect that might cause you some distress

You may have your struggles but you can do so much

So many lives you can positively touch

Besides, a blow to your self-esteem it might be

If you were called out by your deficient quality

That could a downward spiral create

Of negativity, poor motivation and self hate

*

I hope this never happens to you, but you see

That as a human being with a disability

My disability is often used to qualify

My entire person, and I wonder why

Yes there are some things that I cannot do

Yes that is a body part I lack, that’s true

I have willed myself to get past this

And I know when you see me it is hard to miss

My obvious disability, but that is just a small part of me

I am so much more than my disability

Yet when you call me a paraplegic or an amputee

You label me by what is the worst part of me

*

When that happens over and over again

It discourages me, causes me more pain

I have been trying my hardest to be productive

And as much as possible, a normal life to live

Such a label just takes my motivation away

When said repeatedly, it makes me want to stay

In my role as an invalid, and object of pity

Which was certainly not what I wanted to be

*

So here is my humble request to all of you

If you are able-bodied, just think it through

Before calling someone by their disability

Words have power more profound than you see

So I could be a person with a limb amputated

Instead of an “amputee” as otherwise stated

People with disability need recognition

By what they can do, not by their condition.

The Amazon is burning, the story is great

For headlines sensational, the actual state

Of the rainforest concerns but few

So many forest fires these days- what is new?

 

The Amazon is burning- at the hands

Of human greed, those forested lands

Being useless for business, needed to be cleared

And fires are common anyway- so what is the fear?

 

The Amazon is burning- but the rainforest should be

Resilient to withstand such adversity

Fires occur every year, don’t forests regenerate?

All we need to do is watch and wait…

 

Some people cry out that our human pursuits

Are destroying our planet- that smoke and soot

Blotting out the sun is made out to be 

More dramatic than it is really…

***

The Amazon is burning, we will have to care

The domino effect may spread everywhere

Climate change is no longer a concept nebulous

Natural disasters affect each one of us

In the fight against nature, unlikely we are

Even if we win battles, to win the war. 

(Image source: https://people.com/human-interest/humans-started-amazon-rainforest-fires/)

 

 

 

 

 

Traps are not easy to identify….

Once I earned enough money to buy

A house, shiny car, some quality stuff

I thought that would be enough

That counted as success, and being perceived

As successful in life was important, I believed

It felt good to be able to afford things nice

Satisfaction seemed to have a relationship with price…

**

Deeper pockets seemed to quench my desires

So more and more stuff I began to acquire

It was liberating to not have to care

About spending money almost anywhere

Every new (costly) purchase felt like a treasure

My acquisitions did give me (short-lived) pleasure

**

Leisure time dwindled, responsibilities grew

I continued to acquire objects new

Sometimes not realizing it was a duplicate

The original lost in the chaotic state

Of my beautiful house that had more vacant space

Than I could use, but I was not yet ready to face

The truth- my  possessions had me trapped

Maintaining them left my energy sapped…

**

Over time I have come to realize

That spending money wisely implies

Spending it on experiences that stay 

On as memories to be savored another day

Acquiring objects was just weighing me down

Until the concept of minimalism I found

I now have less stuff, but I have the luxury

Of time- owning less has set me free!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How do we, again and again

Defy logic, simple and plain

How do our brains, self-aggrandized

Something so straightforward not realize-

That the archaic second amendment

Should not over human lives be precedent

There is freedom to own any type of gun

But living freely under the sun

Is no longer a freedom we can for granted take

When innocent lives of children are at stake

Why is it that some of us do not see

The debate in all its absurdity

Truth has been colored, cloaked, revised

So many misleading arguments devised

To deviate from the truth, the actual issue

Creating divisions even deeper, it’s true..

**

In anger I pen these lines, painfully aware

That no matter how much I might care

If part of the solution I cannot be

My outrage is an exercise in futility

Let me, my anger towards action steer

For we need a world without fear..

Image source https://floridapolitics.com/archives/266188-sean-shaw-a-legal-strategy-to-combat-gun-violence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty-four hours I have in a day

Surely they are plenty for work and play

I need to work ten hours, anything less

Might make me appear lazy, I confess

But what is the point of working all day

If work is not followed by evident display

Of activities of leisure, that showcase

My disposable income, my refined tastes

So dining out, parties, and travel to places exotic and mundane

Jostle for space in my over-scheduled life,

barely leaving me sane

Ownership of expensive objects is so out of date

I need novel experiences to expand my discerning palate

Posting an instagram picture of the perfect mountaintop view

Is as satisfying as the vista itself, I tell you…

So what if all the travel has worn me out

Surely a little less sleep I can do without

Then there is caffeine to help me go the extra mile

And endure my fuller than full life with a smile…

**

Just when I am wondering if all the boxes usual

Have been checked in every fashion possible

I get a reality check from who else but my son

Who, when asked about his idea of fun

Replies that flying paper airplanes with his cousins

Trumps all the travel, all the luxury trappings..

**

Trust a child to throw you in to a state of introspection

Re-evaluate priorities, perform an honest dissection

Of your life- that is where I am at right now

Thinking of scaling back on activities to allow

Myself breathing space, and time to see

How a fulfilling life ought to be…

She screamed silently, yet again

At the sexist allusion to her brain

Spoken in a tone of condescension

Quite clear was the insinuation

Her competence was being questioned, without

Knowledge of the situation, no doubt

Because of her gender…

As if being a woman, petite, slender

Was enough for a man to discredit

Her qualifications, disregard her merit

As a physician in a field competitive 

With instances like this daily she had to live

She could feel the rage building up each day

Knowing there was nothing that she could say

To improve, for herself, this situation

Any retort would be subject to misinterpretation

Being labeled difficult would just make matters worse

For her in the professional universe…

**

Like women around her, she had learnt to ignore

Being called “sweetie”, “honey”, “cutie” and more

Yet each time this happened there was a surge

Of rage within her- it would be on the verge

Of overt manifestation, until it was restrained 

By years of conditioning, she had been trained

To disregard such words, totally inappropriate

To address a doctor, a colleague or a subordinate-

She had been referred to as such by everyone-

Patients, seniors, staff, mentors- ad nauseum

Each time, though, she resented how these words undermined

Her professional status- disrespected her capable mind.

**

Then there were those remarks, snarky and snide

When being a competent doctor and a “good” mother she tried

Enraged her, though once again she cried out

In private, further criticism she could do without..

**

Working in a misogynistic world, she seethes inside

Works even harder to prove herself, her anger she hides

Accomplished women everywhere face similar predicament

They scream quietly, rage is their driving sentiment..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know the situation is grim, the prognosis not good at all-

There is yet another procedure, which gives a chance, albeit small

For improvement in your condition, I cannot but offer it to you

There is no guarantee it would work, could be harmful too

It could give you some longevity, but simultaneously compromise

The quality of your life- I believe that comes as no surprise

I know  everything we have done so far has kept you

Alive, but bouncing from hospital to  rehabilitation and home too…

You agree to the procedure because you have a will

To survive, which trumps quality of life still

**

I am the one who suggested this “n”th procedure

Whether this is the best thing to offer, I am not sure

I must admit I have serious doubts it would work for you

In the long-term- I’m afraid my fears would come true

Then, the other part of my brain chides me on my doubt

Because my duty is to offer every possible way out

Of this illness, how can a treatment option I not present

If it exists for this condition, these options are meant

To help you make a fully informed decision

But I know you rely on my judgment as your physician..

**

There is the part of me that wants to present outright

Options to do nothing more to fight

A losing battle against your disease process

Hanging on to the meager odds of success

Focus on palliation, and find ways to measure

Quality not quantity, help you do things to treasure

The remaining moments of your life with your family

Spend resources on keeping you comfortable, pain-free…

If I do that, however, a part of me believes I have failed

What is the point of the collective heights we have scaled

In treating illnesses that even two decades ago

Left us with no options except to let a patient go

It is hard to pull back when an option does exist

The possibility of improved survival is hard to resist..

**

Then I try the ultimate decision-making tool

What if I were the patient- I know I cannot fool

Myself- In my heart I know I would choose

To forego this procedure, I would rather lose

Months of my life than spend them in pain

With this clarity, I go back to my patient again

To talk to them about the less invasive option

I present to them the idea of palliation…

As a child, to me adjectives were just words

Used to qualify people and objects in the world

I thought adjectives had a purpose singular

To serve as vehicles of description- it did not occur

To me that adjectives could serve as instruments

Of bias, bigotry, and pronunciation of judgment

Some adjectives were obvious, others more nuanced

Around deep-seated prejudices, some seemed to dance 

In the real world they were labels that had been assigned 

By the privileged to those they considered inferior in their mind…

**

When I was naive, I used adjectives to adorn my language

To appear more erudite, or precocious for my age

I chose words carelessly,  oblivious that they were derived

From preconceived notions that I carried inside

I never even thought about the impact of my words

I thought anyway that I was insignificant in the world

**

As a newly minted physician I had to describe every day

People- their  behavior, their complaints, their pain in different ways

Unthinking, one day I called a patient hysterical

She was in the throes of delirium- a diagnosis clinical

I am grateful to my mentor for calling me out-

The word “hysterical” showed gender prejudice, no doubt

Moreover, it was judgmental and inaccurate

And did not help in treating her clinical state..

**

As the grip of social media gets stronger every day

Polarized opinions come to light in different ways

Filters disappear behind the cloak of the internet

Describing people/ things to those we have never met

Makes the use of stronger adjectives easier still

Without meaning to, our words can kill

Someone’s morale, pride or sentiments

Unknowingly, we could come across as vehement..

**

Wise men have said- you cannot take back words once spoken

(Or released into the world wide web, or for me, in a patient chart written)

Therefore a conscious effort I now make in my choice

Of adjectives, sometimes at the cost of losing my unique voice..

**

On a lighter note, my favorite adjective I shall share here

On social media, everything is “awesome”, but I do not care!