sBMJ | Ashes in the Ganges

Ashes in the Ganges

Anita Banerjee reflects on the torment of losing a brother to psychiatric illness

It was the time of evening, when night greeted day in a colloid suspension of darkness and light. I flopped into a seat on the tube, having finished a long day in the hospital. The people around me were preoccupied with their own woes, and I was preoccupied with mine. Work towards a Duke of Edinburgh award; get grades in science A levels; do some work experience; show commitment to medicine; suck up to teachers to get a good reference. Bingo - get a place at medical school. I'm now a fourth year student about to enter my psychiatric placement. I wanted to be a psychiatrist; that was until my brother committed suicide last year. Blood curdling screams tore down my London home when the phone shrilled, "He's dead."

JOHN WILSON/ROBERT HARDING

Bereavement isn't a new or exciting topic, but what has alarmed me in the year that has passed is what a cruel heartless breed doctors are. What happens between the innocent sixth former wanting to save the world and the brutal consultant who sees medical students as conniving dossers? Perhaps you find me bitter, and I have to admit I am. I am because the profession I have pledged to serve blindly has disappointed me through and through.

Growing up with a brother who had psychiatric problems was far from easy. At the back of our minds, I am sure my parents and I knew he would take his life. Living with this uncertainty as a doe eyed 15 year old spun my life into a new dimension. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse - his violence, his mood swings, his suicide attempts, psychiatric wards and sectioning, his depression swallowing my parents and home as a whole - he chose the ultimate sedation. The aftermath felt like wading through an avalanche of razor blades. Angst. Burning loneliness. Hatred. Despair. Futility. Collapse.

My third year was a blur of outrageous partying in the face of grief - and exams. Medical school can be stressful enough without having to deal with the psychological pain that my school failed to elicit or acknowledge. I still don't understand why a broken leg is a legitimate excuse to take time off whereas emotional pain is a cop out. My medical school gave me a five minute appointment five weeks after he died. Then I was made to feel bad for taking 10 days off to go to India and scatter my brother's ashes in the sacred river Ganges.

By the time I strolled out of the tube station the sky had transformed into a casket of shiny happy stars. In my pensive mood I concluded that in medicine you meet doctors you admire and want to be like and you meet doctors you detest and would hate to be like. Both are equally important. I know what kind of person I want to be - the kind who has lived through riches and rags and is still laughing at the end of it.

And I haven't lost faith in trying to save the world. Like the stars suspended in black, you have to be plunged into darkness before you can glow bright enough to change the landscape.

Competing interests: None declared.

Anita Banerjee , fourth year medical student, Barts and The London School of Medicine, London
Email: banerjee27@hotmail.com

studentBMJ 2006;14:309-352 September ISSN 0966-6494

Responses published this month

Articles	Responses
LIFE Ashes in the Ganges Anita Banerjee (September 2006)	Shikha Singh (August 28th, 2006) Read this response

LIFE Ashes in the Ganges Anita Banerjee (September 2006)	kavitha Mattam (August 31st, 2006) Read this response

	LIFE Ashes in the Ganges Anita Banerjee (September 2006)
	Shikha Singh (August 28th, 2006) Final year medical student, Imperial College, London shikha.singh@imperial.ac.uk
	I was both moved and inspired by Anita Banerjee's honest and beautifully written account of her experiences.(1) Moreover, I felt she raised a highly relevant point, regarding the inadequacy and/or ineffectiveness of pastoral care in medical school. In my opinion, this is an understated but common problem that exists among larger London medical schools. Of course, in most medical schools, there is a pastoral care 'set-up' in existence. If you have problem A, contact person B, and if you are unable to reach person B, contact person C. But in practice, it seems as if the London medical school mergers of the last decade or so have led to enormous medical schools with hundreds of students, in which individuals' psychological needs are not adequately detected. The personal nature of the problems may make it difficult for students to approach the university and ask for support. Furthermore, while I understand that universities need to observe rules, the bureaucracy and challenges so often associated with requesting time off may also hinder students from coming forward with their concerns. It is not enough to have the appropriate infrastructure in place - college counselling services, pastoral care tutors, workshops etc; for any of these measures to be implemented even remotely successfully, it will be necessary for medical schools to have a much more proactive way of knowing their students, on anything more than an academic or attendance basis.

	LIFE Ashes in the Ganges Anita Banerjee (September 2006)
	Shikha Singh (August 28th, 2006) SHO, New Cross RWHNHS Trust kmattam@hotmail.com
	Dear Anita, While it is sad to read about your personal loss, and admire your determination to be happy come what may,I have to admit Medicine doesn't make you immune to pain and loss,even the hard hearted looking people you detest and you think are giving you a tough time, feel,and as a future Psychiatrist yourself you should realise,not everyone can express themselves,while some are not good at opening and expressing,others after a certain point learn to accept their limitations and the inevitable,death is one such. Everyone even your cruel heartless breed of Doctors have laughed and cried,be it with celebrations of their successes in a difficult case or for a personal loss or a loss of a patient they may have missed a diagnosis or one they know they are really helpless to do anything about. Medicine is not what one believes heal and cure everyone and make the world a better place,am sure many think thats what it is,I did till I entered and grew up.Medicine is just like LIFE, makes you a stronger person,teaches you about putting your best face on and seeing the bright side,about not breaking down everytime something goes wrong,its about hitting the bottom and bouncing,making mistakes and learning from them . You are seeing the loss of your brother from a personal point,anyone in your shoes would and while we all know what isn't in our hands,when it comes to our own,we always feel they didn't get enough and we haven't done enough.Remember everyone has lost someone at some point in their lives. The Doctors who tried to treat your brother,did the best they could,unfortunately they couldn't make him better.Don't judge the world or a profession you haven't really experienced or lived through yet. I can't really say about the 5 minute session of yours, I am sure there are provisions for people to take off if people who are stressed at work can. I have to say I admire your bouncing back and looking at the positive side.Good Luck, and hope this positive aspect of yours continues.