Though much is said about the mental health of care providers, the question remains—how seriously do we take it? How can health care workers deal with stress?
In a session moderated by Namrata Biji Ahuja, chief of bureau, New Delhi, the discussion focused on coping mechanisms for health care providers who bear the brunt of pain and suffering.
Dr Jyothi Kakumanu, a neurophysiologist, and a few young residents from AIIMS Delhi joined the discussion. Excerpts:
Dr Jyothi Kakumanu/ In my experience, there were situations where the medical system I worked in couldn’t give me answers. That’s when I began exploring Buddhist perspectives. I realised I was treating patients like a parrot—repeating what I had learned without truly understanding it. Only when certain life events hit me hard did I feel the need to go deeper, and that opened up an entirely new way of seeing suffering.
Initially, in the hospital, I thought suffering was just the obvious—fever, cancer and sickness. But through Buddhism, I understood why the Buddha was called the “great physician”. Suffering includes having to live with what we don’t want, losing what we love, and not getting what we seek. Ageing, sickness and death are universal. Anything we are attached to, anything impermanent, inevitably causes suffering when it changes or disappears. Our very existence is conditioned—dependent on organs that can fail—so whatever is put together will eventually fall apart.
Anxiety, fear and agitation—these emotions push us towards pain. Often, we suffer because we try to control what is not in our control. For instance, when I treat a patient and the patient dies, I may feel guilt or fear despite doing my best. Buddhism explains this through the idea of the “two arrows”. The first arrow—the patient’s death—is beyond my control. But the second arrow is the one I shoot myself: guilt, remorse and rumination. This self-inflicted arrow is far more damaging. It widens the wound until we break down.
The key is to be mindful of the first arrow and stop there. Act, don’t react. Accept that we are vulnerable and not omnipotent. All phenomena are transient; if we don’t feed them with our thoughts, they fade. When we avoid shooting the second arrow, the first arrow loses its power.
Dr Manyata/ Over the past nine to ten years in the medical field, I have seen death and suffering in almost every form. I now work in an oncology setup as an onco-anaesthetist and senior resident, which means I encounter both acutely ill patients and those with chronic, debilitating conditions who have no curative options left. As you mentioned, these experiences; along with the pandemic—have taken a significant toll on us as young doctors.
What has helped me cope is turning to psychotherapy. I have found a sense of safety in talking to a therapist. I have also explored music and physical relaxation techniques, both of which have supported me and helped me come this far.
Dr Amiy Verma/ During our initial postings in the ICU, we had very long shifts: 12, 15, sometimes 16 hours at a stretch. In the beginning, before fatigue became a routine part of life, I had one particularly difficult shift. I somehow made it through, but when I reached home, I broke down and cried from sheer exhaustion. Along with the mental stress of caring for critically ill patients and witnessing death, the physical pain was overwhelming.
Crying helped me cope at that time, and gradually I learned other mechanisms, too. Over time, we all try to find a balance between stress and fatigue, and eventually, during residency, we learn to live with it.