Dotting the I of my expectatIons

I felt like an alien as I entered the village in Mojlishpur. I was in this job for only a couple of weeks, and I had never immersed myself in village life before. There I was walking in my wrinkle-less gabardine and buttoned up t-shirt being carefully goggled by every men, women and children I passed by. I was sure that I heard someone whisper, unintentionally quite loudly “আমাদের ডাক্তার এর মানুষ!” (translation: “he’s from Amader Daktar!”).

Khalil Bhai (the territory officer) led my way from a muddy path to a small village shop. I saw an aged man sitting on a wooden chair smiling as I walked as well as a relatively younger man sitting inside the shop who I assumed to be the shopkeeper and seemed reasonably curious about my visit. The older man turned out to be one of our patients who was fairly satisfied with our doctor-in-a-tab service and very much appreciated the effort that we have put to bring medical aid so close to their remote abode. After I conversed briefly, I was introduced to the shopkeeper whose name was Mostofa. I knew I had heard that name before. In about 30 seconds of conversation, the man bluntly said on my face that our service was ineffective; while in a fraction of that moment I realized how I remembered his name. He was one of the twelve patients who complained about our services (a source I gathered from our data files). I felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water on me!

Suppressing my numbness, I gathered all my courage to ask him why our service was not effective for him? He informed me that he was suffering from some throat problem (as he gestured, possibly a tonsil infection). He was prescribed a few drugs and a follow-up test. However, after a week’s medication he was no better. He was already very unsatisfied for the fee he was charged and to escalate his frustration the treatment didn’t pay off. He told me very flatly that he was not unsatisfied because of the ineffective drugs but mainly for the fee he was charged. He believed he would rather pay this fee to someone sitting in a remote hospital than to a doctor he can’t visually communicate with. This is when I realized he didn’t quite understand the true value proposition of our service.

I tried enlightening him. I asked him which doctor in a hospital would charge as low as 50 taka for a follow-up visit? This doesn’t even happen in the city! His eyes grew curious as he was unaware of this and I knew I had his attention. I further told him the crucial difference between trained medical consultation vs. blunt treatments (painkillers, etc.) and how the former is more successful in curing diseases in the long run. By now we were surrounded by a few other village people, who were listening in.

We also noticed their doubts about the effectiveness of telemedicine: How can they trust a doctor if they can’t see him? This is when we rationally explained to them that even though telemedicine services will never be as equally effective as consulting a physical doctor, it is the best way to connect them to the best urban doctors who would never reside in these remote areas. He seemed fairly convinced and after almost ten minutes of that conversation he looked at Khalil bhai and said, “ঠিক আছে. রোববার তোমার সাথে আমাকে নাও, আমি আবার সেখানে যেতেচাই এবং দেখতে চাই যদি এটা এই বার ভাল হয়” (translation: okay, take me with you on Sunday. I want to go there and try again). I smiled at him widely, but he could hardly notice the victory dance I was giving in my head. I felt relieved to have made someone take the right decision and also to show him how our service was beneficial for him, albeit not perfect.

For our field visit, I was in Kishoreganj for only two days. But I got back with a treasure chest of knowledge; primarily that the village people who live there have a different notion about life. Although our service is relatively very new and a tad bit difficult for them to completely rely on, they were still ready to put their faith in it. So what should we do? Put all our efforts to make sure that we gain their trust fully and give them the best medical service just by their doorstep and within their means. I was still an alien as I headed back, but a happy one returning home with greater determination to “make wellbeing universal”.