How it all started..

It all started when I was young. If you were expecting me to talk about the cliche way of saying it, you got it wrong. Every summer since I was barely able to walk, our family would spend time among the rural villages of Tamil Nadu in the initiative to spread the love of God. Being a little kid meant running around and telling people about how good loves them and he's good and he's the creator of the universe. I was mostly dismissed with a wave of a hand or told to go away sometimes. I would be disappointed and I would go back with a heavy heart.

Fast forward, It was during one such summer when another family, consisting of doctors decided to come with us. I was older and was accustomed to the way these visits went, until one day. The family who had come with us decided to start a medical camp,free of cost for these villagers. To my utter disbelief, the same grandmas who had told me a myriad of reasons as to why they didn't have time to listen to me, lined up in a que and waited patiently to be called. I was surprised about the 180 degree flip in their reaction.. 

In my mind, I was waiting to see their disappointment as anyway aunty was going to tell them that God is the healer and he loves them and probably a little more of the same things I was going to tell them. I went and sat next to aunty to see what was different, so different that the villagers came flocking. Looking at her talk, the way she dealt with the patients, especially the kids reminded me of the story I was reading a while ago, the story of Ida Sophia Scudder. 

A story of courage, determination and love for God and humans. 

I saw aunty at work, dressing wounds, draining abcessess and I decided there were other ways I could spread the love of God and serve people. It was too disgusting and their ignorance appalling. I came home that summer and took up computer sciences and found that I loved the course. I felt that information technology was the way to dispel the ignorance, paving the way for better healthcare. 

As days went by, it was October 16th and it was my brother's birthday. We had quite a celebration with the neighborhood kids and families and that's when my mum stood up to talk. I was in no mood to listen as I was already tired and ready to pass out at any moment. She started off by saying, "Neither me nor my child would be alive today, handnt it been for the grace of God". That caught my attention. I was wondering  what my mum was talking about. I was just about clueless as everyone else.

She went on to continue the story.." I was 40 when Joe(my brother) was born and the doctor who saw me for my antenatal checkup explained the consequences of what might go wrong. I was apprehensive but we decided to go on with the pregnancy. Fast forwarding to a night before joe was born, my mother, who happened to be the ex-nursing superintendent of the government medical college at Madurai, was pleading with the doctors to take up me for a C-section, considering the risk factors involved. She was an experienced nurse, and she had seen too many mother's die for lack if timely intervention and she wasn't willing to see her daughter die or her unborn grandchild die the same way. The doctors decided that the best way was to induce and try for a natural delivery, before attempting a C-section. Hours into the induction and the attempt towards a "natural delivery" , my blood pressure shot up. I don't remember what transpired after that but I remember coming back to my room and my mom telling me that my kid was born. The last thing I remembered was a doctor saying, " Oh! A case at 4 a.m. in the morning? Why now? We're too tired..". Joe was born..not so healthy, requiring intense observation at the nursery as his APGAR score was less than 5. I was later told of what had transpired. It wasn't until a day later I was allowed to see my baby. I was still having high fever and heavy bleeding which the doctors were unable to explain. However the joy of seeing my kid alive and feeding took over the feeling of fatigue from the underlying weakness. Joe was responding better and was a happy child  but I was rapidly worsening. We were told we could take joe home and that I should come back for follow up. We called our family doctor to check up about my condition and she advised we take a few scans. We sent her the reports. She called back within minutes and told her to report back to the emergency department. I was confused and bewildered. I was told the placenta was still inside me. My mother was hysterical. I could die if I wasn't treated within hours." 

It was here my mum broke down. I remember very vaguely of those days, but the memories came flooding back. I remember my mum vowed not to go back to the same hospital where the doctor's inefficiency almost killed her and went to our family doctor. It took her hours to get the placenta out and months to come to terms with what had happened. 

That day, I realized that there were other patients who were dying, because of doctors who weren't committed to their work, of doctors who worked for money and not service and of doctors who I wouldn't want to be treated by. I decided I wanted to take up medicine to learn how to serve with love,and point people towards the god who heals both the body and soul- Jesus.