To our battlefront combatants and guardians,
“Hope this letter finds you in the pink of your health;” that is mostly how we were taught to begin our letters at school. Today, it feels like a crime to do so. No matter where we turn to- the social media, the radio, the television, the newspapers, even while we talk to each other- the dominant train of thought is, “Ever since the pandemic hit us and changed our lives in a colossal manner…”.
Nature is kind, forgiving, and bountiful; however, nature can be ruthless and brutal,too, ‘we reap what we sow’. It seems as if humankind is paying for its sins; whether absolution and redemption is a possibility is an ambivalent point of contestation.
Wouldn’t it have been of great comfort if we could have seen this catastrophe coming or could be informed of its advent like the meteorological department foresees calamities? We would be better prepared, right? Being wishful and hoping against hope is the perpetual state of being of humankind; until the soul breaks and gives into the darkness of the abyss trying to swallow one alive.
While realising your dreams after years of hard work, determination, and will power, while taking the oath to be true to your own selves and do your job to the best of your abilities, you would not have thought that you would fall on your knees unable to help the lives of living beings. To realise that no amount of “hard work, determination, and will power” could help you relieve yourselves of the feeling of helplessness you would come to suffer.
Enormous amounts of degrees, research, studies, and experience seem to fall short of the magic and miracle that could cure the world of this fatal virus. Watching senior doctors and heads of large medical institutes breaking down on national television, owing to the mammoth pressure and defencelessness one feels at the face of the progressive doom of the pandemic, can leave one deterred and discouraged.
In addition to the aforementioned, ignorant individuals are propagating alternate forms of ineffective treatments and disavowing the authenticity of allopathic medicine in the name of pseudo-science, quackery, and cow-dung therapy. From Baba Ramdev’s comments on how people are looking for oxygen cylinders when there is oxygen all around us and within our lungs to conspiracy theories of how the pandemic is a scam, to how the virus is a bioweapon and thereby, the vaccines are a form to control us; fake propaganda and misinformation that is afloat is endless and overly bizarre at that. These factors are undermining and devaluing the efforts of the health workers, pushing them into further frictions pertaining to their work. To quote WHO’s director-general Tedros Ghebreyesus, “We are not just fighting a pandemic, we are fighting an infodemic.”
“You signed up for this” and “its part and parcel of your job” are slurs that are hurled at you for expressing your distress and anguish. From being in Personal Protective Equipment (PPEs) for more than half a day and not being able to eat or drink for the entire time, to braving all seasons and weathers, to caring for each patient like your own, you have done it all. Laughing, crying, singing, and dancing to keep the morale up of isolated patients to help relatives and near and dear ones have their last moment with the departing soul, knowing well that this could be you tomorrow. But who would keep your morale up and be by your side to see through it all? The pain of having to lie to people that they might have the probability of making it out alive while you know for a fact that they will not, must have made you question the purpose of your profession even.
Moreover, to remind oneself of the fact that you are also human beings who have families and homes you cannot possibly go back to due to the gravity of the situation and the dread of infecting them with the virus as well. After not being able to convince the populace of the profundity of the situation, resorting to begging them to follow the appropriate protocols to reduce the spread of the virus must have been harrowing.
To be at home and read about the situation is one thing, and to be at the ‘epicentre’ of the pandemic is another. Death is an inevitable truth, working in a hospital must have made you used to this fact. However, to stand helplessly, not being able to do anything, to see people in the thousands being bagged like garbage to be thrown away in rivers must have churned the insides of your soul.
Having read and studied plagues that surfaced on the earth from centuries ago to the recent past and to see another form of the same manifest in front of you, needing you to take charge and control the situation must have been daunting. From being revered as gods and saviours sent by the gods to being beaten and harassed for not saving lives and ‘letting’ people die, the world has shown you how much more remorseless it can be.
From physical abuse to verbal abuse to mob lynching to blackmailing to cyberbullying, the harassment faced by doctors knows no end. The Indian Medical Association reports 75% of doctors face abuse in the hospital premises while 43% of doctors are under stress due to the same; 70% of the abuse is initiated by the relatives of the patients themselves. The root cause of the aforementioned is pertaining to the insufficient economic investment in healthcare in our country.
This past year, the number of deaths of healthcare personnel trumped those of soldiers and that in itself speaks volumes. While the world saw numbers, you saw the souls- from your patients, to doctors, to nurses, to sanitation workers, to everyone who formed a tight knit machine well-oiled by nothing but perseverance and courage. To not only be pillars of strength for your patients, but also for your fellow healthcare workers is too much to ask for from a single person.
Seeing your colleagues’ lives being cut short due to the paucity of resources must have enraged you and shaken your reality in more ways than one. From not being provided basic amenities like PPEs, masks, beds, oxygen cylinders, ventilators, medicines, and vaccines, being short of staff, and being overwhelmed by the overflow of patients, you have had to endure it all.
Not being acknowledged and getting paid your dues in the name of the pandemic, while the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. This still has not made you give up on the oath you took while realising your life-long dream. Due to the paucity of staff, senior medical students, with or without proper training, being appointed at various medical institutions, not being paid adequately, their university and entrance exams being postponed time and time again has only been adding to the anxiety and distress of the entire medical fraternity.
For the sake of saying it, I will not state that I and many others who are away from the battlefield (for that is what it is), understand or can even begin to fathom the horrors you are facing with every passing minute. I know no form of acknowledgement and praise for being our frontline warriors will alter the way you feel. They say, ‘even your therapist needs a therapist’. You, being our healers, holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, might be experiencing your mental health deteriorating day by day. At a time when even stopping for catching your breath seems to be guilt-ridden, aiding your mental health seems like a far cry.
In a few years’ time, the world might even forget your sacrifices and you, while we adjust to a “new normal” way of living. However, know that there will always be few of us who will always remember you. Thanking you would be undermining your efforts to save the human species. Therefore, I would like you to remember every time you lose your way, we are here to support you in our little ways by holding on to each other as our own beacons and harbingers of hope. As the Persian poet, Rumi famously said, “where there is ruin, there is a hope for a treasure.”
Until next time (hopefully there will be none which is as grim as now),
Thanking you for everything,
Yours,
Smriti S. Raj.
Smriti has done her BA in Literature from Hindu College, Delhi University and MA in Literature from Jamia Millia Islamia University. She is also an Alumna of SBI Youth for India Fellowship.
In a room of her own, you will often find Smriti speak to spectral masked vigilantes who save the world of mortals during nocturnal hours. As a sensorial hybrid, she believes in the sight of bright colours, sound of mountain rivers, loving touch of jumping puppies, and fragrance of old books. Smriti aspires to work as a teaching faculty to create a dialogic classroom space with vibrant discussions.
loved the article and that quote at the end! very well-written.