Friday, June 28, 2013

About malignant people


This is about one of the most reputed psychiatrists in town who had given my mom hope and will - both in good measure - in helping her overcome the emotional turmoil and depression following her successful but understandably distressing breast cancer surgery in 1983.

It was during her reluctant fight with the hopeless secondary phase of the dreaded disease, some eighteen years later, that he was clearly not able to address the emotional outburst and panic of the terminal phase. Not that we were expecting any miracles at that stage, the least we wished for was some comfort for her, what if short lived.

It would have been great had he admitted his inability to deal with the patient's convoluted mental condition but no...he not only administered heavy doses of anti-depressants in his own panic attack but also 'strongly' recommended his doctor friend admittedly known for his expertise in such intricate matters.

My mom had great regard for the psychiatrist and was very religious about following his prescription to a tee. We immediately took her to the venue guided by our unsuspecting faith but two sessions were enough to gauge the fraud lurking in his exorbitantly-priced gimmickry. His treatment was only a general chit chat with the patient in the guise of a consulting session that culminated in the sale of few pills over the counter. I do understand the virtues of placebo but this was blatant fraud in broad daylight.

Not only did this mockery cause her needless strain, it burdened me with a deep sense of guilt to have brought it about in the first place. She died soon after. My mom's death decision, I strongly believe, was cent per cent voluntary. She gave up only because she felt the need from within, else she could have easily pushed the inevitable by a few more years.

The worst part about our expert was the prompt firewall he had in place when we called him up only to intimate him about her demise. Our call was stalled at the reception itself as he probably feared something more than mere intimation. As for our reputed psychiatrist, the orchestrator of our unfortunate encounter with the "expert", his self-centric exploits in recent times have more than confirmed that he himself needs immediate psychic treatment that can't be cured with his psychic surgeries.

This is neither an impulsive angst over a personal loss nor a generic dig at the whole medical fraternity, only a painful observation that some people including doctors are more cancerous than the disease itself.


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