fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

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fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

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Neeta Nayak

A Legacy of Strength and Perseverance

6 Comments / Grit /

As a noun, grit is defined as “courage and resolve, strength of character.” It often emerges in the face of great challenges. We associate grit with heroic figures: army captains holding their ground against tremendous odds, navy commanders saving sinking ships, air force pilots navigating disaster zones. Yet, many gritty individuals remain unsung heroes, quietly shaping lives. My maternal grandfather was one such hero.

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The Love of Her Labor

6 Comments / Birth /

An arranged marriage followed by childbirth within the next year was the lot of many Indian women for centuries.

Moving to the USA provided some reproductive freedom. With little support from extended family in a foreign land, I wanted to complete fellowship before having children, but the dreaded biological clock was ticking louder. I remember feeling conflicted: wanting to wait, but acutely aware of aging eggs. We decided there would never be a perfect time.

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The Lame Surgeon

44 Comments / Getting Motivated /

Had Dad not passed this month fifteen years ago, we would be celebrating his birthday today. He was born–and died–in October.

This was the time when India was still a British colony. Vaccinations, antibiotics and potable water were not yet available, and infant mortality from infectious disease was high. When dad was two years old, his mother noticed that her active baby went from running to limping, and his left leg looked strange. Terrified, she took him to a country doctor who diagnosed paralytic polio and stated that his leg would be paralyzed forever.

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An Anti-Racism Pill?

10 Comments / A Turn for the Better /

Years ago, I had a bedridden patient—Mr. T—with extremely advanced Parkinson’s disease.

He was Caucasian, and the nurses warned me that he harbored extreme nationalist tendencies. Most of the caregivers in his nursing home were female and either immigrants from Africa or Black Americans. He was utterly cruel in his treatment of them. When they’d help transfer him from his bed to a wheelchair, for example, he tried to kick or punch them and issued a stream of profanities. His use of the B-word and the N-word was commonplace.

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Happy Father’s Day!

45 Comments / Regrets/No Regrets /

I awoke from a deep sleep today—Sunday, June 16—with a sudden urge to call my dad, nearly 10,000 miles away in India, and wish him Happy Father’s Day. A second later, I remembered that he’d passed away almost 15 years ago.

Was he in a “better place,” as everyone assured me he was when he died at age 69 of metastatic prostate cancer? Could I call him there, as I’d done for years after I left India in my early 20s?

Happy Father’s Day! Read More »

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