I had just become head of a clinical unit. I was quite young. Perhaps I did not look senior enough. But people working in the institute knew about me. They would drop in some time when they needed advice. One day a youngish looking fellow came to see me.
“Sir, I am a clerk in the college office” he said. “My mother has a gynecological problem and has been advised a hysterectomy by someone. My father would like to talk to you. We want your opinion.”
“OK” I said.
“I have her case papers and reports. Will you see us now?”
I had something important scheduled some time after. This woman was not registered in our hospital, and she had not come herself. I probably should have asked them to bring her for a check-up in my outpatient clinic before offering an opinion. But I could not refuse that young fellow who was concerned about his mother.
“OK.” I said. He brought his father and the file with all documents related to her treatment. I read through all the documents. She was middle aged. She had had menorrhagia for a few months. Her uterus was of normal size. Her endometrium had not been examined.
“She requires a dilatation and curettage. If the histopathological report does not show any malignancy, she should be treated with medicines, norhormonal, and if they do not work, hormonal. If that fails, a hysterectomy may be required.” I was quite happy that I had explained an ethical and conservative management algorithm to them.
“So it is all trial and error!” the fellow’s father and the patient’s husband said. Then they got up and went away.
I was speechless. He made it out as if he had obliged me by allowing me to give an opinion on his wife’s illness, even when she was not my patient, and tried to humiliate me by saying my scientific approach was just trial and error. Even if I had not become speechless, I would not have said anything in retaliation, because it was not in me to do so. I kept the hurt inside me and moved on. I met the clerk after a month or so in the college corridor.
“How is your mother?” I asked him. “Is she OK?”
“Yes” he said “she underwent hysterectomy.” He looked embarrassed while talking to me. I smiled at him to ease his discomfort and we went our different ways.
Many years have passed since. I have not forgotten the hurt yet. I have learned about human nature from that episode and also from a lot of people I have met professionally subsequently. I have not allowed another person to do that to me again.
