From: Ananda Mitra

Subject: I will never forget

We all lose loved ones. Such loss always produced an existential crisis for the ones who are left behind. Whatever be the culture, religion, faith or race, the rites following the loss often serve the purpose of bringing closure to the phenomenon of the loss. Closure often assumes the reduction of uncertainty, at least about the loss and its circumstances. Consequently, losses that remain unresolved bedevil the minds of the survivors forever. Most of the times, such uncertainty disappears, as the circumstance of the loss become clearer, as more information is made available, and even though the void is never filled the dissonance related to uncertainty tends to diminish and perhaps eventually disappear. If that does not happen, it is natural to seek answers to questions.

What follows here are really a set of questions regarding the death of my father at what is publicized as a premier health care institution in India. I write here to raise my questions and to inform the reader of the kinds of questions that could arise if health care is sought at this institution, which for the time being I shall only call the hospital and its medical professionals (that include the range from surgeons to nurses).

Day 1:

My father, who is 78 years old, goes through an angiography to determine the blockage level in his arteries since he had been suffering for weeks of intense angina pain that could be partially controlled by heavy doses of medication. The medical professionals confer and decide that a bypass surgery is the only option. Trusting them, I agree and convince my family to agree, and convince my father that it is the best thing for him.

Questions that I ponder and have not gotten answers to: Was it the ethical responsibility of the medical professionals at the institution to offer me other options? Did they consider all the ramifications of a bypass surgery on a person of my father’s constitution?

Day 3:

The medical professionals confer and they decide that a special test of his lungs is called for given he was a smoker, although he had stopped smoking nearly 35 years ago near the age of 40. The results of the test are shown to be favorable and they maintain their decision of the surgery.

Questions that I ponder and have not gotten answers to: If the test was at all called for, was that some indication that surgery could have a heightened risk factor?

Day 5:

Surgery starts at 8:30 am in the morning with an ostensible single by-pass surgery. Additionally the surgical team agree to use a special procedure, often called a “cell saver” technology that recycles the patients blood thus requiring lesser donated blood of which, however, a more than adequate supply had been made available in the institution’s blood bank. Interestingly, my father had the rarest of blood groups. Surgery is projected to last about 5 hours. Surgery is finished at 4:30 pm (8 hours) when the lead surgeon speaks to me and says all has gone well and also states that not much blood was required. So there is some blood left in the bank. In the statement, I get the feeling that the surgeon is saying that the surgery took longer because it was eventually more complex than a single bypass. He says all is well and my father is OK.

Questions that I ponder and have not gotten answers to: How well tested is the new technology? What does the research say of the pros and cons of using this technology on a patient of my father’s medical history?

That night:

That night my father requires several additional bottles of blood. When the count is over, for a person of his body weight, almost 90% of his blood is replaced.

Questions that I ponder and have not gotten answers to: What happened?

Following days (the count gets blurred):

My father is in great pain that is expected after an open-heart surgery. He cannot speak well, he complains of pains in his chest and throat.

People who visit him tell my mother that it appears he has a lung infection. Medical professionals claim it to be normal.

They also continue to say that he is an “uncooperative” patient and thus is unresponsive to post-surgery rehabilitation. He gets increasingly weaker, and is in continuous pain.

Medical professionals get frustrated with his “uncooperativeness” and tie down his hands to the bed so that he cannot touch the numerous tubes that are attached to his body. He pleads with my mother to ask the medical professionals to untie his hands; the medical professionals tell my mother that they will not untie his hands since he is tending to pull at the tubes.

Eventually, medical professionals concur there is indeed a lung infection and antibiotics are applied. However, my father does not respond as expected to the antibiotics, since the infection is similar to hospital-induced infections.

He is finally put on a respirator from which he can never be taken off.

He dies 21 days after the surgery. Twenty-four hours prior to his death a lower-level medical professional tells me on the phone, that my father has only 24 hours left. Eight hours prior to his death the chief surgeon in charge of the surgery tell me on the phone that there is nothing to worry about and that my father is 25% better.

Questions that I ponder and have not gotten answers to: What happened?

Several days after death:

I go to the medical institution to seek some answers to the questions I have pondered. The answer I get is that my father was too old for the surgery. Interestingly, the day that the medical professionals advised surgery my father was 35 days younger than the day he died and death was essentially attributed to old age.

I am also reminded that any attempts at legal action would be futile.

My father, Kalyan Kumar Mitra, PhD., an accomplished scientist who served most of his life as the Director of Research at the Indian Tea Board died at B. M. Birla Heart Research Center, in Calcutta, India on September 28, 2001.

I would be happy to answer any questions a reader might have.

Ananda Mitra, Ph.D.
Associate Professor and Director of Graduate Studies
Department of Communication
Wake Forest University
Winston-Salem, NC 27109
Phone: 336-758-5134
Fax: 336-758-4691
Email: ananda@wfu.edu
Website: http://www.wfu.edu/~ananda

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