My tryst with a private hospital

One summer day, trudging long, bumpy, serpentine miles, I landed at an elite private hospital in Haryana on a sad and sultry morn with a slightly enlarged prostate. The hospital’s name and fame, and above all, my personal acquaintance with the doctor had made me brush aside other options. Neither a reasonably good private hospital in my own hometown nor even top ones in the neighbouring Panjab or the UT could override the wisdom and logic of this choice.

I underwent the suggested blood and urine tests with alacrity and willing readiness in the squeaky-clean, AC-cooled environs with the smartly turned out, eye-pleasing staff making it all look so crisp and cool. The reports came out normal and I went in a relaxed, happy frame of mind on the scheduled day for the last of the tests– ‘prostate biopsy’.

Though a little embarrassing, the young lady doctor deputed for biopsy made the thrust of the ‘sample probe’ feel less painful with her soft, comforting words. But the real pain came when my better half, looking distraught, brought the bill. It was a hefty 46000 rupees and not “15000 or so” as I had been informed earlier, albeit casually and speculatively. Stretched on a bed and horrified, I asked her to have it rechecked for errors. “No, it is absolutely correct, they say,” she said returning moments later, shaken and sad. Since my discharge had already been overly delayed and we had to leave, I paid the bill, vowing to seek clarification on my next visit.

My next visit happened about two weeks later. The biopsy report was ok, and my (personally known) doctor prescribed me the medicine with the ususal 'dos and don’ts'. After thanking him I told him in a mildly complaining tone about the bill. “46,000?” he said, visibly surprised. But, oddly, to my consternation, a moment later, thumbing through the papers, he began bamboozling me with medical jargon and concluded that the amount charged was in fact correct and in order. When I tried to reason out, he lost his cool. “You are a very strange fellow?! Why don’t you understand? Didn’t I tell you the cost escalation is because of 12 samples instead of six?” Crestfallen, I  collected my papers and hastened out of the room. Heading straight to the office  I then confronted the billing official. He too tried to obfuscate and evade the issue. But I persisted, pestering him to justify these charges and the yawning difference with the cost mentioned earlier. Finding me upset and undeterred, good sense prevailed over him and he got busy on the phone making enquiries. Finally, looking up, he mumbled, “You will get some refund,” adding after a pause, “about 22 thousand rupees.”  Our anxious wait in the lobby ended when he returned many long minutes later and told us that the refund due to me was 28000 rupees. Overwhelmed and joyous, with my pocket thus warmed with this tidy sum, I thanked him profusely for his efforts and for seeing reason. Next, we hurried to a mall, shopped and watched our own Kangna Ranaut’s new movie TWMR, and triumphantly drove back home next morning.

Later, I took up with the hospital’s MD the matter of overbilling and the likely fate of the gullible patients descending on this hospital with trust and hope. The MD was candid in admitting error and profuse in uttering apologies. But my subsequent queries specifically about the doctor’s fake justification and a further claim of refund (for, serendipitously, I had found proof of another patient charged much less for the same procedure), was answered with a grim, stony silence.

Well the reply never came despite reminders. But the bold, vibrant slogans on the hospital site – “ethical, humane and transparent work culture”, “compassionate care”- resonate and resound in my ears causing anguish and pain.

Moral of the story: Don’t take slogans and mottos at their face value, more so when it relates to corporate hospitals.

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The book I finished reading this month

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The book I am reading now

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Next-to-read books on the shelf

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