HOW I MET YOUR FATHER...

Kids, it was the summer of '85 when we first met. Yeah, yeah i know that u have heard all about our' girl meets boy, boy proposes, girl disposes so on and so forth natak ' so often that now it has become ur favourite bedtime story! (read may 2010 POST ) You fall asleep even before it starts!

So, today i am telling u a story about 2 kids who never met their father.

It was a routine antenatal consultation. Lata, a sweet, simple 21 year old, newly married, came with her husband, 12 weeks pregnant. Both were shy, eager to follow advice and were sent off with instructions to eat well,put on weight and follow up after a month. 3 months later, Lata walks in, now 6 months pregnant along with her mother. Gone was that sweet, quietly content look. In law troubles,i guessed, having been witness to many such stories in the past. Was i wrong! 2 months earlier, her husband was crossing the road near Sion hospital when a truck knocked him down. He died instantaneously. The next two months were a nightmare as Lata was blamed for her husband's bad luck and she was forced to go to her mother's house. No time for grief, sorrow is a luxury for girls like her who have to carry on with the business of living. Her old,frail mother and she almost appeared uncaaring but for the catch in her voice and arms protectively clutched around her tummy.

Amita was 7 months pregnant when a weekend trip to Lonavla changed her life forever. Their car met with an accident, she broke her leg but her husband was seriously injured and put on the ventilator. Her every visit to my clinic thereafter was chaotic since she was accompanied by both sets of parents, her brother and sister ln law. Her husband succumbed to his injuries almost a month later and every time i checked the baby's heartbeat, there was a fresh wave of sorrow.

Both mothers delivered with me. Lata had a baby boy and she held him with tears streaming down her face. Amita had a baby girl, the spitting image of her father. One could sense that both sets of grandparents were going to fight for her.

And so were born two kids who will never meet their father!

(all names changed)

THE LONE RANGER

“Only one mosquito counted in Mumbai during a mosquito census conducted by the municipal corporation”, screamed newspaper headlines last week! This census was conducted in the wake of an epidemic of Malaria in the city which, in the monsoon, is the norm. So, what’s the fuss? I wonder what was done with that pesky, insatiable, one-man army mosquito. Surely it should have been captured alive and inducted in a hall of Fame [or is it Shame?]. Perhaps Mme Tussauds would consider making its wax replica for display. It definitely deserves a mention in the Guinness Book of world records as the world’s most bloodthirsty mosquito! Maybe, just maybe, the Indian Army has borrowed it for a secret mission involving chemical warfare, Mumbai ishtyle.

Somehow, the article brought to mind an anecdote involving a 70 year old man and his 24 year old wife. They had come for consultation since the wife had not conceived even after 3 months of marriage, which, in the gentleman’s eyes, was an adequate period of time for the job to get done. He disclosed that his 2 former wives had become pregnant in the first month of marriage itself and had provided him with a dozen kids. I don’t think even he was sure of the exact number! Unfortunately, both had died at an early age, hence the remarriage so that there was a woman in the house to care for the large brood.

On seeing my shock, the wife smiled sweetly and said, “I am very happy. He treats me with respect.” On being told that, at his age, it may be some months before his wife conceives, he stormed out of my clinic muttering under his breath something about dumb doctors especially of the female kind! I watched their departure with a disturbed mind.

Exactly a year later, the couple walks into the clinic with a baby. The wife was a picture of radiant motherhood. The old husband had a triumphant smile on his face and had come to gloat. That night I had a terrible dream of a heavy downpour where on closer look, each raindrop was actually a newborn baby wearing a wrinkled, grinning face. YUCK!!!  I woke up in the morning determined to erase this episode from my mind. A movie, I thought, would do the trick. No prizes for guessing which one I saw……..

…………“Buddah Hoga Terra Baap” [a recent Bollywood flick which literally means “Your dad may be old but not me” a colloquial slang used in a mildly abusive vein]

Oh God! No more nightmares, I hope!

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST?!

The 3 most commonly asked questions immediately after the baby is born are:

A] Is it a boy or a girl?  

B] Is he/she ‘normal’?

C] Is he/she fair?

The first 2 are easy to answer but I cringe each time I have to reply to the third, often giving a stock answer,

“Looks just like your husband”; hearing which,

 some look happy while the rest appear a mite dejected! Some desperately ask whether the baby’s appearance is likely to change in the next few days!

Jokes apart, this oh-so-Indian obsession with skin colour and good looks is downright annoying. How boring would the world be if all were cast in the same mould of tall, slim and fair or tall, dark and handsome.

To find beauty in the mundane, the trick is to forget all stereotypes and look closely at the whole picture, with one’s heart as well as eyes.

To illustrate, look at these pics of a butterfly perched on my son’s finger and a moth on my living room floor.

Delicate, colourful, shimmering radiance

Versus

Earthy, dramatic, powerful flamboyance

Beauty or Beast??????

You decide. After all, it’s different strokes for different folk!  

Cry, Please........ It's a Kodak Moment

Every newspaper and magazine is flooded with adverts from various  beauty and slimming centres promising a better 'YOU'. The 'BEFORE' and 'AFTER' photographs are especially hilarious and I often wonder, whether they are for real.

A dowdy, grumpy housewife metamorphoses into a sexy siren! A 40 pound weakling who gets sand kicked on his face by a bully is now a brawny, handsome hunk! Come on!!! I have yet to meet anyone so transformed by a few visits to such centres and I wonder at the gullibility of people who flock there.

So, I decided to take a few 'BEFORE' and 'AFTER' pix of my own in the Labour Room. Here are the results:

BEFORE

Just born- 3.01pm

AFTER

 Just Cleaned- 3:03pm

 Just Bathed- 3:10pm

Just Dressed- 3:12pm

This is one instance where the 'BEFORE' pic wins hands down.

Just as a warrior emerges triumphant from a battle smeared in blood with a war cry on his lips, so does a newborn baby make its appearance in the world, anointed in its mother's body fluids, with a lusty cry.

Cry, please... I pray and the baby obliges.

What a Kodak Moment!

MIRACLE BABIES

Woke up in the morning to headlines in the TOI : "KASAB gets what he gave - DEATH !"
LIFE and DEATH , 2 sides of a coin, seen at close quarters by doctors. It is argued that Science is the antithesis of Religion and as trained scientists , we should have an explanation for all events. However, it would be more correct to say that we are witness to miracles which defy logic.

I see the hand of GOD every single day in the L.R. [read labour room] The entire process of Life Creation unfolds in front of my eyes. The birth of the marvellous human body, the ultimate machine, created from two phenomenal cells , the oocyte and sperm.

What drama occurs in the L.R. ! Once I remember, I was delivering twins.The first baby was out,a healthy female child , when suddenly the beeping of the monitor recording the second baby's heartbeat stopped. All efforts to locate the heartsounds failed. I consoled myself with the thought that atleast one of the twins is alive and steeled myself to deliver a stillbirth. I tugged on the baby's legs which were the presenting part[a Breech delivery], pulled gently till buttocks, hips, back and shoulders were delivered. As I gave traction to bring out the head, I almost wept at the near perfect face of the baby. Suddenly its eyes screwed up, mouth opened wide and he gave a lusty cry! I almost dropped him in shock! What joy and noise in the L.R. with two wailing babies and a bunch of shouting, dancing doctors and nurses.

The other miracle which comes to mind is when the umbilical cord of the baby, in rare instances, has a true knot in it! As you know, this cord is the baby's lifeline . The fetus has made the arduous journey from its safe haven inside the womb to the outside without the knot tightening. Surely there is a grand purpose to its life which has protected it. I make it a point to show this knot to the parents so that they know how special their child is.

So, Life and Death are my constant companions always reminding me that I am but a puppet in the hands of God. In fact it is my work which has converted me into a believer. For me, Science and Religion co-exist!

Bye for now! Keep Pushing... Good luck!

My very first Blog .. Yippeeeeee!!!! :D

Hey! I'm so excited. My very first blog. I wonder if anyone is gonna read it. Whatever!! Its fun to write. You maybe wondering whats with the handle "Dr.Aunty". Well, that's the name I am most often called by. It started with the neighbourhood kids calling me "Aunty" and their parents calling me "Doctor". Presto, one fine day I was Dr.Aunty. A doctor who is like an aunt or an aunt who is also a doctor. Its a warm feeling.

"Aunty" such an Indian feel to this suffix. While in other countries it works as a prefix like "Aunt Susan", in our country there is this tendency to add an "Eee" to all female relatives like Kaki, Masi, Mami and now, Aunty.

The great thing about this profession especially my specialty(Ob-Gyn) is that you become a part of your patient's family. You celebrate births and console the bereaved. Jobs, maids,pets, meals, clothes, travel plans and even bedroom tales are unhesitatingly shared with complete trust. This is why i love my job and never grudge the long hours i spend at work.

Bye for now. Keep pushing, Good-luck.