India boasts one of the world’s oldest and largest healthcare systems including Ayurveda and homeopathy with allopathic treatment, catering to a population exceeding 1.4 billion people. However, beneath the surface of this vast network lies a troubling reality: an increasing tendency to view patients primarily as clients whose financial resources can be exploited. This scenario raises concerns about not just the ethics of healthcare delivery but also about the efficacy and quality of medical services available to the general populace.
In the contemporary Indian healthcare backdrop, hospitals often operate with a business-first mentality. The objective is not merely to treat patients but to maximize profits through various mechanisms, often at the expense of patient welfare. This profit-centric approach manifests in several ways including excessive formalities and hidden charges, over-prescription of tests and medications, frequent changes in medical staff, irregular availability of doctors, moreover, the incentive structure of doctors and its Impact on patients’ treatment.
Recently, I had a shattering encounter that forced me to share my highly painful and disturbing experience within the health sector of our country. My young child was suffering from high fever and I had to take him to the hospital for proper medication and treatment, and all the chaos started. My son’s feverish body, always used to get comfort by the reassuring presence of two seasoned pediatricians, now was lying vulnerable in unfamiliar hands; hence the management of the hospital changed the whole staff.
For years, those gentle, caring, compassionate and well-practiced doctors had been the inspirations and rays of hope, their warm smiles dismissing half of my son’s illnesses as soon as he used to step in in their cabins. However, the hospital’s management policies and conflicts also drove these guardians of health away, taking with them a team of dedicated staff.
This time, during the visit to the hospital, I was met with a changed scene. Gone were the familiar faces, replaced by unfamiliar ones. The novices who attended my son seemed detached, lacking the empathetic touch that once depicted this place adding to fast recovery of patients. The hospital became a garden that once bloomed but now seemed barren land.
The hospital’s pursuit of profit now overshadowed compassion. Extra charges were levied, creation of new files was imposed, and fees multiplied. The prescription, hastily scribbled, promised relief but delivered none. Three days of faithful adherence to the medication yielded no improvement in the health of my chirpy bird. He had forgotten to speak with feverish body. Fever was like Philippines’ typhoons coming back again and again in few hours with more power. My ever-hungry bird could not even eat a handful of grains and it was worsening and heart-breaking.
As the fourth day dawned, my child’s fragile form still wracked by fever’s relentless grip. With hope that it will be better this time with mediation, I took him to the hospital again seeking relief once more within the same hospital’s sterile walls. Fate, however, had other plans for us.
Again a new doctor, unfamiliar and untested, greeted us with a detached air. His scribbled orders sealed my little bird’s fate- a barrage of tests, a painful journey of needles and syringes in a closed room with nurses. In that close, claustrophobic room, my innocent child’s eyes widened in terror as the cold, unforgiving steel pierced his tender skin. His cry echoed through my very being, a dagger to my maternal heart. It was first time in life he got to know what a blood test is and the blood is taken from the body for the test. My poor tiny soul! I wish he never had to go through all this.
The world around him was hazy and aching, leaving only the traces of tears on his face and pain on his hand with a wool swab and bandage on from where the blood was taken. His tiny hands, once full of life and laughter, now became subject to the merciless urges of medical necessity. In that depressing moment, the hospital’s antiseptic scent including nursing staff, rather than becoming a symbol of hope, reeked of despair and terror to my son like the terrifying Monjulika of Bollybood movie Bhool Bhulaiya. To me, the hospital seemed a place for cold transactions where money was sucked but no outcomes gained. The syringe’s cruel kiss became a painful reminder of childhood’s lost innocence for future reference for my kid.
My little warrior’s spirit, though battered, remained unbroken with a glimmer of resilience. His tears, a testament to life’s fragile beauty, stirred within me a resolve to shield him from harm. And with hope of negative reports, and fast recovery after that, we came home. Three more days passed in hope of lowering temperature, yet no improvement in the condition of my son’s health. But all in vain! Sleepless nights, chills throughout nights in his body and frightening high fever scared me to the extent I never wished to think of.
We again went to the hospital and this time, some more tests, then cannula in his tiny vein of hand for five interminable days, reminding us helplessness in sharing the pain of our kid. Morning and evening, the sting of antibiotic injections in his flesh, our frequent requests to the staff to tell us about those two doctors whose prescriptions always had immediate effect on my son for speedy recovery, no one gave us any contact detail or address of those doctors, last day when we broke in front of a young receptionist girl, she being little sympathetic, finally gave us the hint of the address of those doctors. We immediately left, searched, found the doctor, told and showed all reports. Taking immediate action, he ordered his nurse to remove cannula from child’s hand at first, as it’s a big torture for a kid to keep it for five days, gave three days medicines and my son started recovering after two-three doses and became a chirpy bird again after two and half weeks.
Here writing this whole experience is to serve the purpose as a wake-up call, reminding all of us that healthcare’s true foundation lies not in profit, but in the healing touch of humanity. Many patients entering hospitals frequently encounter a maze of administrative hurdles. From exorbitant registration fees to unexpected charges for basic services, each step can feel like an uphill battle.
To generate additional revenue, many healthcare providers resort to recommending unnecessary diagnostic tests or prescriptions for expensive medications. A simple ailment can turn into a battery of tests, often leading to inflated bills and unnecessary anxiety for the patient. The widespread irregularity in doctor availability poses a significant challenge to timely treatment. Many hospitals operate on lean staffing models that prioritize cost savings over patient care. As a result, patients may find it difficult to consult a specialist when needed; causing delays that can exacerbate health conditions.
The National Health Policy aims to provide accessible and affordable care, yet the ground reality deviates from these ideals. A lack of stringent regulatory oversight allows hospitals to operate with relative impunity, leading to practices that can marginalize the patient experience.
To combat this troubling trend and restore the primacy of patient welfare, India’s healthcare system must undergo a significant paradigm shift. Stakeholders must advocate for a more patient-centric approach, emphasizing ethical healthcare delivery that prioritizes outcomes over profits. This could be achieved through stricter regulatory frameworks and monitoring mechanisms to discourage unethical practices, transparency in billing, and over-prescription of tests and medications; improving salaries and working conditions for healthcare professionals.
While the Indian healthcare sector possesses the potential to deliver high-quality care, the inclination to treat patients as mere clients in a profit-driven system must be addressed. . By prioritizing patient welfare over profits, India can move toward a healthcare model that truly benefits its citizens. Thus, I clung to the hope that compassion and care would ultimately triumph over the cold calculus of medicine.
Dr. Shalini Yadav is a Professor, Writer and Columnist from Jaipur, Rajasthan.)
