Reminiscences of an octogenarian

by Ivan Anandappa

It was 1952 and I was in my last teens when my father passed away. It was imperative that we move out, hence we decided to take up temporary residence at my brother's home in Kandana.

To be a member in the medical profession was my first priority and dominant goal. I was lucky and found employment in the only pharmacy in the heart of Colombo Fort.

It was owned and run by a qualified pharmacist. He was kind and gracious enough to article me as an apprentice which enabled me to sit the Pharmacists’ Examination in two years.

Two years later, I was offered the post of compounder at one of the oldest private hospitals in Colombo 2. Three years later I sat the Pharmacists’ Examination and passed.

Humanitarians

The two brothers who owned the hospital were qualified doctors and real humanitarians. They were kind and generous. They provided free treatment to the deserving poor.

All members of the medical staff were devoted to their duties.

This shows that there were humble doctors in this institution. It transpired that a young doctor who was a house officer joined the hospital in the late 1940s and died a few years ago.

Memories

I have very vivid memories of over five decades ago. In the good old days it was Herculean task. The British Pharmacopoeia the B.P. Codex, the British National Formulary and the Ceylon National Formulary had to be studied.

One had to know all the answers. No guessing options such as the Multiple Choice Questions, where according to a news media 706 out of a 1,000 foreign medical graduates missed the boat by making wrong guesses.

One had to pass the MCQ It was imperative. Failure does not entitle you to sit the rest of the examination for registration to practise medicine conducted by the Sri Lanka Medical Council. The jocular scenario was that some of them couldn't even identify common medical terms.

Results

The year I passed the Pharmacists’ examination was 1957. The day the results were out I was on the one-week night shift. That morning I had left the hospital at 7 a.m., went home and straight to bed.

When I arrived at 7 for the night shift I was given a very warm welcome. Everyone even those off at 5 p.m. stayed back to congratulate me. They all shouted in unison. “Ana, Ana, You passed”. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Nice people like them are hardly seen today. The nursing and the dispensary staff were united and devoted to their duties. Helpful to one another we worked as a team.

I was proud of our unity and my colleagues. Each of us had our short pet names which made us as a family.

Appointment

In 1959 I was offered the post of Stores Manager, Drugs Department in one of the three largest department stores in the heart of Colombo, Fort, which is now defunct. There were nearly 30 percent staff members who were Australia-bound. Lucky guys when the Senator left. In came a Jaye Storm which submerged the whole company lock stock and barrel to the deepest depth of the sea bed.

Before the submerge I left the company and worked in a private hospital.

At present I am still on the job.

About 10 years ago I had to visit the hospital, the one I originally worked in to see a patient. As I was wending my way along the corridor I heard someone call out “Ana Ana” which was my pet name.

Nurse

I stopped, turned and there stood before me the young girl whose whole life she had devoted to work for the sick.

In the 1950s when I was a dispenser she was a junior nurse. That day she stood before me as the matron, a position she richly deserves. I was so happy for her and we exchanged pleasantries only for a short while. Her presence was urgently required, she wished me luck and went away.

That was the last I saw her. The young lass who died a humanitarian, was worth more than words could say. I was hospitalised when I read her obituary. It made me feel so sad that I couldn't pay her my last respects.

She will always be remembered as the queen of the lamp of mercy and compassion.