First Card

There is a big deal about first time for everything – and it is a remarkable day for me because today someone asked for my card and I gave it to him. It’s not that I didn’t get such a request before, but I never got a chance to offer as I never had one to. It is because of the forthcoming social activities and some good press I am looking up to, I got my first set of visiting cards printed and when I was talking to the medical head of Fortis hospital (Not naming him intentionally), he wanted me to tell him do what I do for a living – following the more stereotype answer to that what I could possible give, I was surprised to recall the moment that I had the nerve to tell him that I am also a writer and he demanded to see my card, which I gleefully obliged. So there rests my first ever card, with him, safely in his purse when I am writing this post. It’s a remarkable sense of ‘self preservation’, that I have to write about.

Oddly enough, there is another side of the coin and there is no denying it as to why the meet happened to one of the most influential person in that hospital, for otherwise there was no reason to. I am sure he didn’t meet the family of the poor fellow who expired in the critical care unit, just a few beds apart from my dad, to express his sincere condolences or for the counseling of anyone else equally critical if not more. I admitted my father on emergency and there after to the ICU following the medical attention he needed. However, thirty six hours from there, when I asked one of the doctors in today’s morning hour how was my father recovering – he suggested that I go talk to my ad on that. Irony to the situation of what hospitality really means and those very people whose living depend on the very same profession and who charge rather hefty for the same, it is a wastage of words to describe how callous that could be.So we had to pull some strings to reach the director of the hospital to get answers to our satisfaction.

Going further from here – I unraveled a rather nasty means of moneymaking in the arena of healthcare, named basin test, where so called pathological diagnostic centers, collect samples from people and simply throw it away without the least heed to what nonsense they put in pen and paper, as report. Had this not been the case, my father, who was certified normal in earlier part of the day, would not have to be rushed to emergency the same night owing to electrolytic imbalance (deficiency of sodium and surplus potassium). So first time for a lot of things, huh!

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