The art of conversation seems to be a dying one amongst our generation. With frequent and prompt texting and emails, we have lost the ability to tell a story, and recount experiences in the charming and magical way of the generations before us. I always look forward to interacting with the octogenarians who come to my clinic, and being an orthopaedic surgeon, a large part of my patient cohort ends up being quite old. They come in with fractures or knee or back pain, and in the course of their medical history I find myself walking through time through their fascinating stories!
One such patient was a part of what we call “Free India’s first citizens,” those of who were in their twenties when India got Independence from the British, and who helped build the nation step by step, brick by brick. This delightful old man had served in the Indian Army until he retired some thirty odd years ago. Every time I met him he would regale me with stories of partition, hardship, bravery and valour, of rationing and prohibition, and patriotism and dedication to his family. I would be moved by these meetings and while I always hoped his age-related aches and pains would disappear, I secretly hoped he would come in again, for a cup of chai, and some time-travel.
A couple of years ago, a jarring phone call at 2 am, told me that my sweet patient had fallen in the bathroom, and as old people often tend to, had fractured his hip. A quick ambulance ride to the ER and an x-ray later, showed me that he required a hip replacement.
“Sorry to disturb your sleep, Doctor Saab,” he said, smiling a toothless apologetic smile, despite the pain.
“Don’t worry about that Uncle,” I told him firmly, my mind abuzz with worry as I went through his thick, burgeoning medical files. I quietly pulled his wife aside and told her about the surgery required as soon as it was possible. I counselled her about his age (almost 92 years), his multiple medical issues, the risk of anesthesia, blood loss, stay in the intensive care unit, all the while trying to wipe out the lines of worry that were deepening on her face. It’s a double-edged sword really! How do you explain insurmountable risk to a lady who has looked after her husband for 65 years?
“Doctor Saab, why are you whispering sweet nothings to my wife in the corner?” chirped my patient’s lyrical voice. “Don’t hide anything from me, I am stronger than her, I can make decisions too!” In his true characteristic style, Uncle had managed to inject a shot of humour and lightness into the situation.
“Hip fractures in the elderly can have disastrous consequences if left untreated,” I explained to him. “Fat can get released into the blood vessels and can travel through the blood stream wreaking havoc in the heart and lungs. A simple, straightforward surgery can fix the bone, and give you a second shot at walking around the house, or at least sitting in a wheel chair and leading a comfortable life. If we don’t operate, you will be bed ridden leading to sores, and risk significant lung infections.”
“I do hope you aren’t calling me old,” said my patient, chuckling. “Let us go ahead with it as you have suggested, and take our chances, so I can get back home as soon as possible.”
I am relieved and proud to say this dear “young” man was operated five days later, and went home the subsequent week. Our team comprising of a cardiologist, an anesthesiologist, a physician and a physiotherapist assisted me in his care, juggling his multiple medications and requirements for fluid and blood. Old patients such as him are most often on multiple drugs for cardiac issues, blood thinners and urinary symptoms, which have to be tweaked appropriately in the perioperative period. We treated him with kid gloves, gently taking his fragile body through the regime of pre-operative, intra-operative and post-operative care. He went home safe and sound, happy to have earned the moniker “metal man,” with his new metal hip prosthesis.
Meeting India’s first citizens is always a moving experience. Their grit, determination and ability to smile in every situation is humbling. I write this post of the eve of our Independence Day as a reminder to our generation to stay brave, to stay humble, and above all, to stay grateful for everyday that we spend as free people.
What a cute story! Those people were made of different stuff. Hardy, brave and always ready to rise to the challenge .
More often than not , recoveries depend on the attitude of the patient and most old people are greatly motivated to seek treatment that will improve their lives .
Very well written.It is rare to find the younger generation having the time,patience or the inclination to listen to what the older generation has to tell.Keep up the good work.