CHAMPA
Scalpel of HopeThis surgeon lends a
new meaning to the lives of polio and leprosy patients.
By Bharat
Desai
Hospitals are the most unpleasant of places. They smell of
disease, they reek of fear, they echo with distress. But sometimes they also stand as
beacons of renewal. The Bisahudas Mahant Memorial Government Hospital in Champa of
Bilaspur district, Madhya Pradesh is one such place. Teeming with polio and leprosy
patients, hope pounds the corridors of the hospital's orthopaedic wing thanks to a
41-year-old assistant surgeon. His friendly smile apart, what strikes you about Dr Hari
Singh Chandel is the eternal optimist in him relentlessly trying to rub off the hope on
his patients.
Nothing deters this good
doctor. Not even the 14 transfer orders which have ironically been served upon him in the
past three years. It has disrupted his work -- he moves to a cousin's clinic in the
interim -- but he has refused to move, always having to rephrase an old refrain that his
patients need him here. Thankfully, he has admirers in high places who agree.
It is work that on initial scrutiny may seem routine. It is
not. Says Rasheed, a leprosy patient himself, who manages the Leprosy Rehabilitation
Centre run by the Bharatiya Kushta Nivaran Sangh: "There was a time when lepers were
not treated at the hospital. But Doctor Saheb has changed all that."
Chandel seems to have made a profession out of being
different. As a young man he was attracted to the army, even securing a job as a radar
mechanic, before his father stepped in, put his foot down and directed him towards
medicine. His story truly began years later -- perhaps predictably with a transfer, but
one that he had opted for, from lucrative Bhopal to Champa in 1990. There, he was
appalled. Not because Champa had one of the largest concentrations of leprosy patients in
the state, some 3,000. But because they were turned away by the hospital on the grounds
that it lacked facilities. Here was a classic Indian irony: medical assistance was refused
because the hospital staff was afraid of catching an infection.
If any doubt remained in his mind, a brief stint with the
Lifeline Express which visited Raigarh in November 1995, erased it. "I thought if a
hospital on tracks could do such a fine job with minimum facilities, why couldn't
I?"Getting down to work, he invited patients with orthopaedic problems and organised
a 30-day camp with support from charitable organisations. The response was not merely
good; it was tremendous. Over 600 persons registered themselves, more than 200 were
operated upon for leprosy and polio-related problems like claw hand, foot drop, nasal
deformity and thumb deformity. Since then, he has become the surgeon with the prolific
scalpel.
The good doctor is also a smart one. In Champa, the
specialised equipment he requires will not materialise from government largesse. So
Chandel got his rich patients to pitch in. The donations are routed through the Kushta
Nivaran Sangh, supported by the Mumbai-based Sushilaben Ramnik Bhai Jhaveri Charitable
Trust.
It has not always been easy. The lepers were initially
suspicious of him. Rasheed himself recalls how he used to spurn Chandel's assistance. When
persistence didn't pay, divine intervention stepped in. Rasheed broke his leg in an
accident and had no option but to be treated by Chandel. After the surgery, when Chandel
refused to accept any money, Rasheed allowed him free access to the centre. "I am now
ashamed of the way I treated him earlier," he admits.
Still, many of the afflicted were reluctant. Most may have
wanted restorative surgery for, as Chandel says, "It not only helps them perform
their chores better but improves their self-confidence to a great extent." But they
were afraid to ask. They still are, though that fear has abated marginally, enough for
nearly a 100 of them to opt for surgery. And word is spreading.
The leprosy patients have such faith in Chandel that they
come to him for all their problems now. A woman leprosy patient, for instance, rushed to
him the other day with a gynaecological problem. Afraid that a gynaecologist would not
treat her, she had come to Chandel. All he told her was that he would take her to the
right doctor. But the brooding face lightened up. A dose of hope had just been injected. |