“GOOD MORNING DOCTOR” Prof. John Kurakar chapter 2

 

“GOOD MORNING DOCTOR”

Prof. John Kurakar

chapter 2

An autobiography ‘Good Morning Doctor’
(a heart touching experience of cancer treatment) authored by Prof. John Kurakar

CHAPTER 2*

 

After the APR surgery, I lay in the ICU at Amrita Hospital, jolting awake in shock several times before finally slipping into a half-asleep haze. My mind wandered back through the labyrinth of events that had led me here. The first memory that surfaced was my visit to a private hospital in Kottarakkara.This particular Wednesday in April 2021 stood out vividly in my thoughts.

It was a string of sleepless nights, with each day of April spent in restless misery. Alongside insomnia, I battled health issues like constipation and persistent bleeding. Seeking relief, I consulted Dr. Simna, a compassionate gastro surgeon who listened attentively to my concerns and conducted a thorough examination. She reassured me that while my Piles were not severe, the underlying cause of my insomnia warranted further investigation. Dr. Simna prescribed a series of blood tests, an endoscopy, and a colonoscopy. Without medical insurance facilities at the hospital, I considered visiting a private hospital in Kotiyam, renowned for its advanced facilities.

I confided in my friend, Shri Paruthiara Kunjachan, who recommended a respected gastro surgeon with a clinic in Kollam. Seeking additional advice, I turned to my brother-in-law, Mr. PC Thomas, who also endorsed the same surgeon at Kottiyam Private Hospital and provided me with his contact number. This collective support brought a sense of relief amidst my health struggles.

 

Upon researching the doctor's profile online, I confirmed that he was indeed recommended by both Shri Paruthiara Kunjachan and Mr. PC Thomas, known for his expertise in Kollam district. Without hesitation, I dialed his number.

"Who is this?" he answered.

"Doctor, I am calling from Kottarakkara. I really need to see you. When should I come?" I pleaded.

"Tomorrow morning at 7 o'clock," he replied calmly. "Come to the hospital and go straight to the gastro department."

Relief washed over me as I prepared for the visit, hopeful that he could finally provide the help I desperately needed.

The next day at 7 o'clock, my wife and I traveled to Kotiyam in our regular driver Joy's car. We headed straight to the gastro department and met with the surgeon. I explained that I had visited a private hospital in Kottarakkara, where Dr. Simna, the gastro physician, had examined me. I shared the blood test reports and mentioned that Dr. Simna had prescribed a colonoscopy.

The surgeon listened attentively and then said, "There's no need for a colonoscopy. Come ready for an endoscopy tomorrow morning, and remember, no breakfast."

"But Dr. Simna prescribed a colonoscopy," I insisted.

"An endoscopy is sufficient," he replied with a reassuring smile.

Feeling a mix of relief and apprehension, I nodded, trusting his expertise as we prepared for the next day's procedure.

An endoscope, a long, thin tube equipped with a camera, is used for endoscopy—a diagnostic procedure that allows for a detailed examination of the throat, oesophagus, stomach, and small intestine. It is known for its painless nature.

The next morning at 6 o'clock, Molly and I arrived at Kottiyam Hospital in Joy’s car. By 6:30, we had undergone Corona tests. I was then taken to the doctor for the endoscopy. Shortly after, the doctor conducted a physical examination of my anus and assured me, "There's no problem." He prescribed a few medications.

He asked me to return in four days, and I did as instructed. "The constipation and bleeding are still continuing," I told him during the follow-up visit.

The doctor performed another physical examination and reassured me, "There is nothing wrong with you. Consume fruits and foods high in fiber." He prescribed some more medications and confirmed, "The piles are not visible."

Concerned about my persistent bleeding issue, I mustered the courage to ask the doctor about the possibility of surgery. I showed him the blood test report from Kottarakkara Hospital, and there was a moment of silence before he responded, almost jokingly, "So, shall we schedule the operation then?"

His demeanor, however, lacked any hint of joy. His face remained serious, his communication minimal. It felt as though he didn't take my concerns seriously, leaving me with unanswered doubts and a sense that patients were only meant to know so much. After hearing the doctor's answer, I left the room without saying a word, feeling a mixture of resignation and acceptance.

I diligently followed the doctor's prescriptions, faithfully taking medications and incorporating plenty of fruits, vegetables, and fiber into my diet. The insomnia and acidity gradually subsided, but the persistent bleeding remained. After a month passed with no significant improvement in my health, I returned to Kottiyam Hospital to consult with the doctor once more. He adjusted my medications accordingly.

In the midst of this, I also battled a viral fever and noticed discomfort while urinating, prompting me to seek out a urologist at the hospital. Following the doctor's advice, I underwent an ultrasound scan. It was the 26th of November 2021, a memory that still remains vivid in my mind.

 

Armed with the ultrasound scan report, filled with apprehension and a sense of being engulfed by illness, I returned to Kottiyam. Determined to seek further medical advice, I followed the urologist's recommendation and decided to consult Dr. Devi Prasad. The appointment required me to collect a token by 6 AM the following day. Unsure of the process, I sought advice from Mr. Sunil Kumar, Director of the Institute of Fashion Technology, who had recently started working at Kottarakkara Kurakar Education Center, which conveniently housed a branch in Kottiyam. Mr. Sunil Kumar arranged for the token through a colleague, easing my worries significantly.

With a sense of relief, I patiently waited for my appointment with Dr. Devi Prasad.

At 11 o'clock, I heard my name called from the doctor's room. Molly and I entered to find a calm and compassionate figure in Dr. Devi Prasad.

As we spoke, he patiently listened to every detail of my illness. "Don't worry," he reassured me gently. "We will schedule a colonoscopy for tomorrow. If there's an issue, we can address it during the procedure and ensure you leave here feeling relieved."

His words brought a sense of comfort and assurance. Returning home that day, I felt a rare calmness settle over me. The following evening, as instructed by the doctor, I returned to the hospital for the colonoscopy. Nurses handed me bottles of cleansing solution to prepare my stomach. I followed their instructions, drinking four liters of medicated water within four hours and taking the prescribed pills.

As the nurse predicted, after finishing the pills and the liquid, I ended up with a serious case of what can only be described as marathon bathroom sessions. Let's just say, I got to know my bathroom tiles quite intimately that night! By morning, my stomach was as clean as a whistle. The doctor's orders were crystal clear: no food allowed, just tender coconut water if absolutely necessary.

Molly brought 10 tender coconuts, and I sipped on them as instructed. By 8 o'clock in the morning, Dr. Devi Prasad arrived, thorough and attentive, inquiring about every detail. By 3 o'clock, it was time for the colonoscopy—a procedure involving the insertion of a lengthy, slender camera through the colon to meticulously examine both the large and small intestines.

During the procedure, any small growths can be painlessly removed, and tiny tissue samples can be taken for biopsy, providing further diagnostic insights. The entire process is designed to be minimally invasive and comfortable for the patient. As I watched the monitor in the procedure room, I could see the intricate details from my small intestine to the large intestine, illuminated on the screen.

Even before the report arrived, a gnawing sense of foreboding gripped me, and I shared my fears with Molly. An hour later, the report was delivered, and a swarm of doctors gathered around my bedside, their faces marked with shock and concern. A heavy silence hung in the air until the renowned gastro surgeon who had examined me seven months earlier arrived.

"What's happening?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with nervousness.

"We conducted a thorough examination just a month ago, and nothing abnormal was detected then. Unfortunately, it appears to be a rapidly growing tumor," he explained somberly.

Meanwhile, from Pune, my daughter Dr. Manju Kurakar kept calling Molly persistently. Sensing her distress, Molly asked the doctor beside me, "Could you please speak with my daughter?"

The doctor nodded and took the phone, his voice gentle yet weighted with the gravity of the situation. "I examined your father twice seven months ago. There were no signs of any issues back then. It seems to have developed very quickly," he conveyed to my daughter.

 

As night draped its velvety veil over the hospital room, we resolved to stay another day. The weight of the doctor's diagnosis hung heavy on my mind and heart, each starlit hour echoing with whispers of worry and uncertainty..