Tayi Taggu
Mohan (name changed) was rushed to the hospital's Trauma Centre after an accident, with his life hanging by a thread that could be severed in a fraction of a second. His family and wife were crying before the doctor, pleading, "Sir, please save Mohan's life.” The doctor assured them, saying he would do his best, which offered some relief and comfort to their hearts in their time of distress. Despite coming from a wealthy family, Mohan's loved ones felt powerless in this critical moment and depended entirely on the doctor, almost as if he were a divine figure.
The doctor on emergency duty played a vital role in stabilising Mohan at the wee hours of 1.30 am, when most people are in deep slumber. Mohan faced a life-threatening emergency that demanded immediate action, sound judgement and prompt intervention to identify and address the danger. The doctor focused on stabilising Mohan's vital signs—breathing, circulation, and consciousness—before proceeding with further treatment. A year later, Mohan is alive and healthy, and he credits the doctor with saving his life. His perception of the doctor has completely changed; he now regards the doctor as a lifesaver, remembers them and salutes them with gratitude every day. He also knows who else could have played the doctor’s divine role at that most crucial moment in his life and brought him back to life, giving him a new lease of life. If he doesn’t thank the doctor, who else should receive his gratitude?
No one enjoys visiting the hospital, except when a loved one is gravely ill and admitted there. When someone we care about is in surgery, our hope rests with the doctors performing the procedure; they act as spiritual mediators, almost God-like saviours of life, as if they were given power by a higher power. God forbid we are clueless about whether our loved one in the operating theatre will survive, but we place our faith in the doctors whose hands determine their fate. Our thoughts often drift: if a doctor says, "The operation is successful; your loved one will recover soon,” those words bring us joy and hope. We feel victorious, as if we’ve won a hard-fought battle, because a successful surgery feels like a victory over adversity. Conversely, if the outcome is unfavourable, our smiles fade into sorrow, our faces darken, tears flow freely, and we become inconsolable.
Patient relatives walk slowly along the corridor outside the operating theatre; every nurse's call heightens their anxiety about what might have gone wrong, rather than what went right. In emergencies, everyone in the hospital—from sweepers to attendants, nurses, and doctors—becomes a divine figure, working to save lives. Doctors’ true spirituality is reflected in their compassion, humility, and their dedicated, meticulous efforts to save precious lives.
Not all patients are the same; some are particularly difficult to handle, and their relatives can be even more challenging—impatient and threatening. They often lose their temper, intimidate doctors, and create tense environments that affect both healthcare providers and the patient's treatment. However, doctors don't have the luxury of time to confront these hooligans who are ready to fist-fight; they choose to forgive. As the saying goes, "To err is human, and to forgive is divine." Doctors are trained to remain calm under pressure—whether facing a public crisis or a personal one. Yet, beneath their white coats and stethoscopes, they are human too, feeling fear, anger, frustration, and grief. Nonetheless, they uphold their ethical duty and do not abandon their responsibilities, which make them superhuman beings.
Doctors' hard work is relentless; they often face misunderstandings from family, relatives, and friends. They miss family events, such as children's, nephews', cousins', or nieces' birthdays, because their duty to save lives comes first. Like soldiers on border duty, they serve regardless of the weather, focused on their commitment to protecting their motherland.
The white coat and stethoscope symbolise virtue and nobility, yet for many doctors, they also mask personal suffering. At home, the phone rings constantly with test results, urgent updates, and late-night calls from distressed patients. There’s no way to disconnect, as the line between professional responsibilities and personal well-being remains fragile.
When a student aims to become a doctor, their journey begins in school. Admission to medical college is highly competitive, often requiring near-perfect grades and years of sustained effort. Even a layman understands that becoming a doctor is challenging, demanding extensive education, fierce competition, and both emotional and intellectual resilience. This path usually takes over a decade, culminating in specialisation and then super-specialisation to improve overall treatment.
In India, the MBBS programme spans 5.5 years, comprising 4.5 years of coursework and a mandatory one-year internship. Students often face heavy workloads, studying 8–12 hours a day to cover a vast amount of material, which is demanding. The first two years focus primarily on classroom and laboratory studies in subjects such as anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, and pathology, followed by clinical rotations. During this period, some students experience third-year syndrome—a condition in which they mistakenly believe they are suffering from the diseases they learn about, for example, thinking that skin itching means cancer or that a headache indicates a tumour or stroke. The emotional and professional challenges faced by all aspiring doctors are beyond words.
Physicians frequently experience high burnout, especially in demanding specialities such as emergency medicine and obstetrics, with symptoms including emotional exhaustion and depersonalisation. They must also pursue ongoing education, technical training, and ethical training throughout their careers. The medical field is rapidly changing, with doctors now utilising video calls, wearable devices, and robotic tools to care for and treat patients. Medicine requires lifelong learning, perseverance, curiosity, and a genuine desire to help others. Managing stress and balancing work and personal life are crucial. Although bravery in medicine might often go unnoticed, it can be life-saving; these silent acts speak volumes. Despite these challenges, the profession offers meaningful rewards, including the ability to make an impact on patients' lives, continuous personal growth, respect, and diverse career opportunities in clinical practice, research, and leadership.
I've observed that many doctors were brilliant and diligent students in school, making them outstanding and worthy of pride for their role in saving lives. We should respect them—though they may have minor flaws, they still deserve our forgiveness. Managing human lives, they face enormous stress that many of us cannot understand unless we've been in their shoes.
Anyone who has ever admitted a patient recognises that doctors are almost divine—guided by ethics, professionalism, emotional strength, and personal dedication, which elevate them to a higher status. Though their path is challenging, the personal and professional fulfilment can be deeply rewarding for those devoted to helping others. When doctors win, humanity benefits; therefore, we should acknowledge the efforts of doctors, nurses, attendants, sweepers, and guards to ensure better patient care.
As human beings, we are not infallible. Pain gnawing at our bodies often dominates our feelings, but it also has a silver lining: it softens our hearts and deepens our understanding. Through suffering, we have become more patient with patients and have learned that during times of hardship, human connection is essential and that we cannot live alone. Our pain has made us more humane, compassionate, and eager to assist others, and suffering unites us in the joy of living together.