Being a Gynaecologist in these trying times isn't as hard as say, maybe a physician or any other speciality posted in covid duty; but it isn't easy either. Pregnancy in a covid positive patient is morally ambiguous in my mind; they must be attended to even if they're asymptomatic from the disease, and yet pregnancy and childbirth is a choice. How do I prevent myself from being judgemental of those who conceive in times like these?
Why do I put mine and my loved ones' lives in danger for someone who didn't think their life's choices through?
Of course the average indian household scenario isn't simple and straightforward enough for me to hold patients responsible for such things; things like planned pregnancies and preconceptional visits are a distant dream in this country.
But isn't a fetus, a healthy would-be living baby, supposed to be a positive phenomenon, a motivational tool for any ObGyn?
Questioning and justifying my life's decisions has become the single thing on my mind, all day long. It's tiring sometimes, but I can't help it.
The swollen bellies and leaking vaginas, the groaning voices, the absolute lack of regard for any advice given to them, the obvious self-pity, the ill-hidden notion that me going above and beyond for them is their birthright-- there's only so much of it that I can tolerate.
It's upsetting that I've entered Medicine because I felt passion for helping patients, but at times, they feel like my worst enemies-- like the one thing standing between me and peace, happiness and solace. I know of course, that this isn't true; If I could stop my mind's non-stop chatter, maybe I wouldn't have chosen this path. Maybe I wouldn't be more at peace when overworked, or maybe I wouldn't be scrubbing my bathroom floor with Harpic on the one day that I get to myself. Maybe I'd have chosen a different speciality, which would give me more alone and silent time, and maybe I would have been able to tolerate it without my mind unleashing torture on me. Maybe I wouldn't be dissecting each interaction to find the smallest of insinuations to hurt my ego, and again wasting my energy looking for a way to assuage it.
Well, at least I've still got my blog.
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