A few days ago, a teacher of mine who taught me Urdu in school contacted me after years. I remember her well; she was a very kind lady who cared for me a lot. I was one of her favorite students. At that time, she was married and had a daughter who was a toddler.

During a phone call, she told me that she had been experiencing a high-grade fever for a few days, but she had no other systemic signs or symptoms. She visited a government hospital where they conducted blood tests, an abdominal ultrasound, and a chest X-ray. Most of the results were normal, except for slight leukocytosis and elevated CRP levels.

They admitted her to the hospital, took samples for cultures, and started her on IV antibiotics. After a day or two, her fever subsided, but her CRP levels continued to rise. Feeling uncomfortable in the hospital, she requested to be discharged and decided to receive the IV antibiotics at home from a nearby clinic.

She had an extensive history of medical issues, including hepatitis C, which was treated many years ago, hypothyroidism, and uncontrolled hypertension. She used to take captopril intermittently whenever she experienced an episode of high blood pressure.

She was like many typical mothers—negligent and noncompliant. A mother who juggled various roles at once, being a wife, teacher, and homemaker. I listened to her and inquired about her history extensively. I thought that perhaps it was just the common viral fever that everyone around me seemed to be experiencing lately. Many people had been sick for weeks and were recovering very slowly.

I wasn’t even sure why she was started on IV antibiotics in the first place. I had no trust in the treatment at that hospital. Although one of my friends completed her internal medicine residency there and is a very sensible medical specialist, I still had my doubts.

My teacher wanted a second opinion and asked for my perspective. Given her extensive medical history and multiple comorbidities, I felt hesitant to offer any advice. However, I mentioned that her condition might be viral. She inquired whether she should visit the hospital where I work to see a medical specialist. I wasn’t particularly fond of that hospital, and it was both expensive and quite far from her home.

I didn’t want her to spend a lot of her hard-earned money on numerous blood tests and additional evaluations by coming here. I told her that I would find a sensible doctor who could examine her thoroughly, avoid unnecessary tests, and be located near her home.

I suddenly thought of a very close friend of mine. We completed medical school together, and she had done her residency in internal medicine at a prestigious teaching hospital. She is very intelligent and was working as a medical officer in a public sector hospital. Recently, she had also started her private practice in the evenings at a small hospital near my teacher’s home. However, she was struggling to attract patients, seeing only one or two each day.

I called her to see if she was available that day. She informed me that she was at the hospital to see a patient and was just about to leave for home. I shared the entire history of my teacher’s condition and mentioned that she would be seeing her soon. I also expressed my belief that it was likely viral and that reassurance was all that was needed.

I told her not to inform my teacher that we were friends; otherwise, she might think I was trying to refer patients to my friend to earn more business.

When I shared this with my friend, her reply was exactly what I expected.

Haan haan nahi bataungi k hum dost hain. Tu kon hai? Mjhe nahi jaanti.
(Don’t worry, I won’t mention that we are friends. By the way, who are you?)

ADVERTISEMENT

She agreed to wait and assured me she would take good care of my teacher.

I informed my teacher that I knew an excellent doctor and suggested that she see her for a detailed consultation. I asked her when she was available so I could arrange the appointment according to her schedule. She confirmed that she was free and willing to see the doctor in an hour.

I called my friend to tell her that my teacher would see her in an hour. I already felt bad that she would have to wait just because of me, especially since I had told her not to charge my teacher for the consultation.

I started to think that my teacher might not be as poor as I had originally assumed.

After seeing my teacher, my friend called me back.

Daman, tumhara dimagh theek hai? Typical enteric fever ki history the unki.
(Are you out of your mind? She had a classic case of enteric fever.)

She explained that the government hospital had been treating my teacher appropriately but had started the wrong antibiotic, which she adjusted.

I felt ashamed for believing it was viral. Thank God she did not follow my advice; otherwise, who would have been responsible for the complications?

Her hypertension was also poorly controlled, so my friend optimized her antihypertensive medications. Since my teacher had already undergone extensive testing, my friend did not order any unnecessary tests. Instead, she advised her to monitor her blood pressure and provided her number for follow-up.

I was incredibly happy to see that my friend took such dedicated care of my teacher and had gone out of her way to help her.

I realized that my mindset of focusing on financial constraints and saving money—something I’ve practiced since childhood—should not be imposed on everyone around me.

Additionally, I understood that I should avoid interfering in medical matters that exceed my expertise. Ignoring even minor symptoms can sometimes lead to harmful consequences.

We should not always doubt the opinions of doctors working in hospitals with limited resources. They may be more skilled in their diagnoses and work, even if they do not have foreign fellowships. The doctors in government hospitals are just as talented.

I am grateful to God for enabling me to support my loved ones and care for them in any way I can. I also thank God for blessing me with such friends who share my dedication to patient care.

I know that my friend approaches her patients with the same commitment at the government hospital where she works in the mornings. After all, she is my friend, and I am incredibly proud of her.

May God bless my teacher with a swift and complete recovery. I also pray that God grants my friend ease and honor in her life and that she continues to treat patients with the same kindness she shows now, throughout her life. Amen.

“I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well.”
—Alexander the Great

Damane Zehra is a radiation oncology resident in Pakistan.