iRADiX

Many occasions we have talked about ‘Difficult Patients’, stubborn patients, Harassing Patients, Blackmailing patients etc etc. For a change how about discussion on Professionalism not from patient's perspective but from Doctor’s point of view. Some of the colleagues shared their experience about “withering professionalism”. I am glad that I never faced these situations.

Dr X, a very busy practitioner with a dozens of degrees faithfully following his name. A much sought after Doctor by all the past, present, immediate present and future diagnostic centers. .

Mind you he never speaks to the other doctors over the phone and considers below his stature and dignity.

(Hell with bearded Hippocrates! Hell with decent doctor to doctor relationship and mutual respect!! ).

With great difficulty our friend managed to get an appointment, courtesy the kind Secretary of Dr X, at 5.00pm. Our friend humbly requested for a meager 5 minute appointment any time between 8.00 pm and 10.00pm, since mentally He can be free once he winds up his centre at 7.30 pm. However the request was turned down and he was asked to come at 5.00.pm.So he left the centre telling his staff that he should be back before 6.00pm and not to give appointment to the patients between 5.00pm and 6.00pm.

It was pouring "dogs and cats" - not "cats and dogs" as Snoopy of "Peanuts" fame would like us say on this Sunday afternoon even as I walked on the road leading off from my school towards the bus stop, a road I had traveled 4 times a days all during my school days. At that very moment, my sandals decided to give way.
"Oh! No!" I muttered as walked - hoping against hope - towards the corner where our 'family cobbler' used to have a tent almost 35 years ago.

Stumbling along, I was relieved to see the familiar tent at the corner and amazed that it still stood. The dark, brown-black tarpaulin of yesteryears had given way to a slick bright blue plastic sheet but the old man I vaguely recollected was not under the tent. Instead the tent's tenant was a bright, young, clean shaven man - 25 odd years old. As he started attending to my sandals, a flashy car drew up along side and a young lady in high heels stepped out. Her sandals had obviously given way and she was struggling to walk up to the cobbler. The lady arrogantly slipped off the sandal towards the cobbler and said: