It was a Monday in a government dental hospital in Hyderabad; patients were eagerly waiting outside for their turn to come. The OP has just begun. I quickly prep myself in my dental chair, ready to examine patients. I was posted in the DEPARTMENT OF ORAL MEDICINE AND RADIOLOGY for the month; here, we examine patients, address their chief complaints and guide them to their respective departments. A 38-year-old male xx patient, along with her 8-year-old daughter, came to my station; I examined his oral cavity. He complained of ulcers on the left lateral border of his tongue, which were painful in nature and accompanied by fever and cough systemically for ten days. He had taken medications from a local pharmacy without any prescription for 5 days but couldn’t find any relief. His daughter had been suffering from a chronic cough for one month, on unprescribed medicines given by the same pharmacy.
I quickly asked for medical history. I initially suspected viral-origin fever, but later I enquired about family history. He had told me his father passed away from tuberculosis three months ago. I knew right away it was T.B.’s active stage. Patients who visit the public hospitals in India hail from below-the-poverty-line, lower-middle-class families; hence, they, sadly, are not equipped with the right health guidance; the daily struggle for food on their plate, clothing and shelter is what they strive for.
His late father was an active T.B. patient, under treatment for a few months. However, he discontinued the treatment; although it was free of cost, they didn’t have money to commute to the hospital, he told. The family was unaware of the fact T.B. was contagious. Ten people in his family shared two rooms, including his father; what else could they do?
My heart shattered that day, and as a 22-year-old, I always questioned WHY. I did that day, too, but now it was for myself; why couldn’t the father be saved? Why were they not informed enough about his condition? Why did the daughter sign up for something she didn’t commit to? The unprescribed drugs the family takes for even a common cold- the antibiotic resistance which they are building up is going to be fatal someday; who should be blamed for this? Doctors?patients?health care system?
Two days later, the reports came back positive. I knew this coming but was helpless that day. While I proudly told my mum that every day, I ensured my patients had the best effective treatments, this day, I was helpless and handcuffed. It was that day that I decided my passion for medicine doesn’t lie in treatment but in prevention. How happy could the world be if such fatal diseases could be intercepted?
I pivoted and started my journey of public health and community service. I held various screening camps, health promotion, awareness, and strategic plans for patient compliance, and, as of today, I am planning to pursue a master’s in public health. I belong here serving humanity, after all. As cliché as it may be, “PREVENTION IS BETTER THAN CURE.”
I know I’m just like a budding flower trying to blossom. For that, I need my sunlight, and that sunlight is my passion for public health service. I hope to blossom someday as a beautiful flower between the weeds in my life!
