Joyanna Adams

Nobody's Opinion

Doctors: The New Endangered Species

Nobody’s Opinion

 Last week, I had gotten a letter from my doctor. In it she said she loved all her great patients, but had something to tell us all. She was giving four upcoming seminars to explain something and please come, because she was going to talk about hormones, and other stuff. I didn’t think much of it, because she was always giving lectures of some kind. So I called my friend Pattie, and said, “Hey, want to go see my doctor talk? “and she said, “Sure!”
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So we went…and that’s where I saw my doctor..cry.
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But wait, I getting ahead of myself.
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Let me tell you about my doctor. She’s from India— looks to be in her late twenties, and when I was searching for a new doctor, I saw her name on the provider’s list and I said, “I want her…she’s GOT to be from India,–she will take care of me till I die.” At least, I could hope.
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The first time I walked into her office, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. I wasn’t expecting that. The only woman who might have held a candle to such natural beauty was Liz Taylor…and I have seen Liz Taylor. I have been many places, and even worked in Playboy Clubs as a drummer, but no, this woman was one of a kind.  In fact I was so stunned to see such beauty that I told her she must have lots of problems with women being jealous, and didn’t people ever say that?  ” Why no,” she said, ” I’m just me!” I could tell she was surprised at the question.
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With that answer I knew instantly that this woman, was full of love for people. Her face just glowed with some kind of inner light (I know that sounds corny but it’s true) and as I looked at her perfectly painted toenails I thought.—wow… that is rare, she must really love her husband to take the time out of her busy doctor day to paint her toenails. It was obvious, She was there to help women. And she was from India,— I’d gotten lucky.
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Yes, and I will pick an Indian doctor over an American every single time, because I remembered one very special Indian doctor who was there for me, once upon a time, when no one else was.
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It was the year 2001, and my mother had just suffered a severe stroke. All three top neurologists at the hospital were insisting that my mother was brain dead. And then– in she came, my Indian doctor: .she was older than everyone there. She walked calmly into my mother’s emergency room. She picked up my mother’s  “good” hand, and asked my mother about ten questions. My mother nodded yes and no, to each one, and then she came back out to that hall and announced with total confidence:
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“She’s not brain-dead. She understands every single word you are saying.”
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The three head neurologists, got really angry and stalked off, and so, because of the truthfulness of that Indian doctor, my brain-dead mother was pronounced “savable” and the journey began, with a long hospital stay, then rehab. You see, my mother was 78 at the time, the expendable age where the cost is not worth the effort.
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I spent around six months in that hospital, and sometimes I’d run into the good doctor on the elevator, and I would thank her, and she was always nice. In fact, one day, when my mother was screaming from pain and could be heard all over the halls, the Indian doctor was standing behind a nurse’s counter, and some other doctor wondered why I was there, (with a bit of disgust) and the great Indian doctor reprimanded her, and said, “That’s her daughter.” after I had requested some pain medicine. I could tell, she thought highly of me for being there every single day for my mom. From morning till night. I was there.
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She and I understood each other. In fact, I bet she was happy to see some Westerner actually spend every day to help care for a parent. So many of the older patients had little or no visitors at all.
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Years later I thought about that scene, and I often wondered about why the Indian doctor could see that my mother was not brain-dead and why the three top neurologists claimed she was not. I thought, “Maybe the doctors in India are just better educated.” But, that’s not it. The difference is a cultural one: you see, in India, the elderly are revered— It’s just the opposite in America. Those three American doctors saw a big cost (My mother was on medicare) one that they were not going to get paid for, and the Indian woman saw a life.
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Just recently in India, the Maintenance and Welfare of Parents and Senior Citizens Bill passed. If you do not take care of your parents, you could go to jail for up to three months, or be fined. Also, the will made by the parents could be revoked. There is also jail term for abuse of the old as well. If that law passed here, all of those who voted for Obamacare would go to jail. And trust, me, I would be first in line to demand it.
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That’s part of the reason my doctor was crying. Most of the woman at the seminar were older, even elderly. Here was a woman of heart and spiritt, whose whole life had been passionately bent to helping all of her patients feel better, from a culure where the old were respected, and now, our government had cut her spirit to the bone. She can no longer take care of them.
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Our government is now taking over private medical practices, and she had to make a choice, (I’ll expalin this in the next blogs) which why to go? She didn’t want to quit, but had thought about it. As we all sat and watched her anguish, our own thoughts came into our heads? Who will take care of us now? All of us, LOVE our doctor. And why was this happening? Some law? She was going to a concierge program. She was forced into this.
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And how did this happen again?
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In the next two blogs, I’ll explain, because America should know: Your doctor is soon to become an endangered spices, and if you think I’m kidding, you have not met Dr. Ezekiel Emanuel.
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Dr. Mengele, move over.
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Tomorrow: The Emanuel brother from hell.

June 12, 2011 - Posted by | Doctors, Obamacare |

2 Comments »

  1. You are right. Even my Indian doctor put me through tests to “eliminate” things before my gall bladder surgery. I once had a doctor like that. He would just examine you, give you a perscription and you were on your way. Not anymore.

    But, that’s interesting, thanks for the info.

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    Joyanna Adams's avatar Comment by joyannaadams | June 13, 2011 | Reply

  2. I work with many Indians here on work visas in the tech field. When one gets sick and has to see an “American” doctor they are usually dissatisfied with the visit. American doctors all require lab work before they will prescribe anything for the ailment. The sick Indian wants immediate relief like they get in India. There the doctor will examine the patient carefully, by hand and eye and ear, determine a likely condition and prescribe medication. Here, our doctors are clinical and do nothing without a follow up test.

    Like

    Dandapani's avatar Comment by Dandapani | June 13, 2011 | Reply


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