The Skies Are Different

When we look up to the sky, what do we see?

It is defined by the Oxford dictionary as “the space that you can see when you look up from the earth, and where you can see the sun, moon and stars.” If one delves deep into it, analyses it, breaks it down, we all see the same thing. But what does it mean to us?

I see the blue or grey and wonder about the weather today. A kid looks up and sees colours. An old person looks up and wonders if and when it will end for him/her. A pilot looks up and wonders about his flight. A farmer just worries about his crops. We could go on. In terms of healthcare I’ve seen several skies on opening my eyes. I’ve also seen it from different perspectives.

As a society we have many socio economic strata. Each one looks at healthcare differently.

With regards to ones own health It boils down to two things that are easy—AVAILABILITY of the service and ABILITY to access it.

We have urban population who are middle class and above, who have easy access to private healthcare. If they wake up with a medical issue, they pick up the phone and book at appointment at the nearest clinic, visit them and pay whatever the fees are and they are sorted.

Then we have the minimum wage workers who stay in urban or semi urban population where they are daily workers. They do not have a chance to skip work for a day or they might miss out on the work, worse still, might get laid off. One has to spend a day visiting a government health setup to see how long it takes to see the doctors. So they suffer until it gets so bad that it incapacitates them. It’s a vicious cycle which I have seen with my own eyes.

A large part of our population live in rural areas where they may have the means financially or the time to go visit a physician, but unfortunately the clinic is in another town or the expertise is not available. Those who have the time and means will visit another big city and get their healthcare needs met.

In the middle we have a population which have the means to visit private clinics as well as the time to take for their needs without worrying about job security.

Another class of people who are often forgotten, are the ones without the means or the access to healthcare. For such people, medical camps are vital.

I had the opportunity to serve in one such camp, the 42nd (yes) annual Shah Eye and Ear camp in Thika, Kenya organised by Shree Jain Youth League. The people who organise this camp are 3rd 4th generation Kenyans of Indian descent. Fully committed to the cause, serving the locals dedicatedly and ensuring delivery of medicines as well as surgical benefit to patients with no ability to access nor availability of, quality healthcare. Their entire families are dedicated to making sure each patient is taken care of and treated with respect. Children were tasked with helping out arrange tables for medicines, elders with being ushers. The able bodied were helping move stacks of chairs and provide refreshments to the patients and doctors.

There were locals who were acting as translators and were extremely patient with us nomads who didn’t know swahili.

The committee were in the background making sure there was no shortage of anything. Through rain and shine, for 10 days they served. At the end, watching the members of the committee and their families serve and how they treated us, it just became an automatic “yes” when asked if we would like to serve next year as well.

We have seen patients who had simple wax blocking their ears, and could not hear for over six months, think of us as miracle workers for removing the epithelium which has collected naturally.

There were people who had purulent discharge from their ears not knowing that cleaning them with ear buds was causing this trauma and infection. Children who could not hear. Adults with swellings in places on the head and neck that wanted them out but could not find a service or did not have the means to pay. The eye doctors were busy helping with nearly 75-80 cataract surgeries a day. Giving sight to those who could not see clearly.

These people were coming in from as far as 2-3 hours away, by bus or shared taxis, waiting in lines for hours, patiently. They had immense patience. I cannot imagine a crowd of over 1000 people sitting so comfortably and relaxed. Pregnant women, women with small children, elderly and handicapped were all allowed to get in front.

When they got in front of us, their hope was palpable. Karebu—Means welcome. The translators said this to every patient. It showed that even the locals were happy that someone was there to help their people. Be it a small grievance or a major surgical problem, when they got an answer, there were a hope on their faces. They all left with a smile and Asante. (Thank you in Swahili)

It takes immense perseverance to do this every year. It is unimaginable that every member of the family gives 8-10 days to the camp and I cannot thank these volunteers and staff enough, for teaching us what service is and how to deliver it.

It shouldn’t be a favour to the ones being helped. It is an obligation on our part, as doctors, as people with means, to help those who suffer. Help and serve in any way we can.

I have worked more there than I do in India. But at the end of the day it was only happiness at having helped in a small way. I believe that no matter where we are, we should be able to have access to healthcare. Unfortunately this is not the case and there are myriad of reasons for the same. We cannot solve it all, but we can thank such people who exist and make it their business to help those who aren’t so lucky.

Just because they look up at a different sky, doesn’t mean there is no sunshine.

It will shine down on everyone.