ISRAEL AND PALESTINE, WHOS SIDE WE TAKE!-- It was a ‘Sleep Congress’ and the specialists were world renowned ranging from neurologists, psychiatrists, physiologists and physicians. I spoke on ‘Sleep issues in children with genetic syndromes’, which surprisingly invited quite a few questions as well as the appreciation. She was the first to walk up to me to ask me on how the situation in India was. “Bad!”, I said, reacting almost instantly, “Doctor’s refuse to diagnose sleep issues here. I am sure it is better in Israel where you work Professor”, I blurted. “Well as doctors we continuously need to educate”, she said smiling, “And never give up hope.” Her English was broken but her expressions said it all. “I have a young Arab man of around 20 years with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy who is now not able to walk since the past few months. When in your opinion should I initiate respiratory support or get him onto a home ventilator?”, she asked. It was rather flattering to be asked an opinion by a professor. I explained to her on how a sleep study will reveal a lot and tell us whether he is breathing well enough or not, and when he’d actually need the support. “It is worth all the effort right?”, she exclaimed, “I think everyone needs to be given a chance to…….”. She stopped as there was a sudden loud thud in the room. The microphone which was left on fell to he ground. The professor screamed with fright, much to everyone’s surprise. Indians that we were seemed to be tuned to loud noises and very few even reacted. She looked really disturbed and frightened. I knew something more was wrong than just this. She took a deep breath, and noticed my surprised face. “I am from Tel Aviv, you know”, she said softly, “We have had a very difficult year, especially the past two months. And the only thing I can think of is a bomb blast”. She had a slight smile now, seeming rather sheepish at comparing a microphone to a bomb. She then began to justify on how her house was 20km from the border and she hadn’t yet gotten used to the sounds of the rockets and bombs. “It’s not easy to live in a war zone”, she said, “especially when you know for sure that this is never going to end”. “Well, there’s a ceasefire now right?”, I asked curiously. “It means nothing for us”, she said, “We know this will never end. Ever!”. She took a pause. “It is not about Palestine or the Arabs that anger me. The conflict is not just of land”, she said, “What troubles me most is the conflict of ideology. Here you are as a doctor trying so hard to hold on to someone else’s life, and there is someone out there waiting to take it. Look at the Islamic state. If only they realised how hard it is to make one breathe.” I nodded in approval. We both knew how difficult it would be to keep making that man with Duchenne muscular dystrophy breathe, as the disease will eat into him day by day. “I will still save this man’s life. Arab or not. For as long as he will live. In spite of the fact that we are expected to treat him free of cost. The media will never show this”, she said with a smirk, “But that’s what we doctors do. Across different countries, like a single family. Fight a battle. Our conflict is between humanity and inhumanity, and they need to know our war will never end too”. Amen to that!
Posted on: Tue, 23 Sep 2014 03:16:54 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015