Touching someone’s life: a report from the Kotagiri Medical Fellowship Hospital
A report from the Kotagiri Medical Fellowship Hospital. Kotagiri is in the Blue Mountains north of Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, India
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- The Kotagiri Medical Fellowship Hospital project has been supported by CBM since 1976. © CBM
From the grandeur of the lofty mountains, our team makes its descent every week from Nilgiris to Kotagiri for the exercise that is 'Free Eye Camp'. About ten of us make this pilgrimage on a weekly basis. The methods of transport to these unheard-of locations are many; only the air route is still pending.
The journey is rough and contains many obstacles. But once we reach the individuals to whom this whole adventure is dedicated- the patients- all the difficulties and irritations encountered along the way pale into insignificance.
Old ladies being led in by their children, men carried in by friends, some people even crawling in on polio-affected legs. They come from all the surrounding villages, some walking miles, others sitting on bullock carts or in crowded buses to reach the camp. Each one of them shows signs of the struggle they have had to go through just to exist.
Most are left to fend for themselves in their own houses, neglected by family and friends. If you are not productive, you are ‘rejected'- this seems to be the norm. The desire to have their disability corrected, to see again, to be productive again, is what motivates them to seek out such camps.
Some of the stories are heart-rending, and the tears that are shed are evidence of the suffering they endure. One patient comes to mind. Blind in both eyes, she would cringe and wail at our touch because she had been beaten up so often at home that she would be expecting a blow. They are there at every camp, each with a story more gut wrenching than the previous.
Each day we pray that we can discharge the responsibility that has been given to us- to improve the lives of the world’s poorest people with a disability. It’s hard to relax when you know events can so easily lead to tragedy. Disability can cut off not just health but livelihood by leaving someone unable to ply their trade.
Fortunately, though, most of the cases turn out well, and the joy and happiness visible on these patients’ faces at the first post-operation review is more than enough gratitude for us.
The camp work done, we get back to base. After the patients are settled, we sometimes still have the strength for a little relaxation. Soon it’s another week, another camp, and another group of 'camp patients'.
These patients are the most important element in our work, and the reason for us to look back on our lives and say with assurance that ‘we have touched someone’s life.’ Thanks to you, the donors, and to CBM, for being there.
The journey is rough and contains many obstacles. But once we reach the individuals to whom this whole adventure is dedicated- the patients- all the difficulties and irritations encountered along the way pale into insignificance.
Old ladies being led in by their children, men carried in by friends, some people even crawling in on polio-affected legs. They come from all the surrounding villages, some walking miles, others sitting on bullock carts or in crowded buses to reach the camp. Each one of them shows signs of the struggle they have had to go through just to exist.
Most are left to fend for themselves in their own houses, neglected by family and friends. If you are not productive, you are ‘rejected'- this seems to be the norm. The desire to have their disability corrected, to see again, to be productive again, is what motivates them to seek out such camps.
Some of the stories are heart-rending, and the tears that are shed are evidence of the suffering they endure. One patient comes to mind. Blind in both eyes, she would cringe and wail at our touch because she had been beaten up so often at home that she would be expecting a blow. They are there at every camp, each with a story more gut wrenching than the previous.
Each day we pray that we can discharge the responsibility that has been given to us- to improve the lives of the world’s poorest people with a disability. It’s hard to relax when you know events can so easily lead to tragedy. Disability can cut off not just health but livelihood by leaving someone unable to ply their trade.
Fortunately, though, most of the cases turn out well, and the joy and happiness visible on these patients’ faces at the first post-operation review is more than enough gratitude for us.
The camp work done, we get back to base. After the patients are settled, we sometimes still have the strength for a little relaxation. Soon it’s another week, another camp, and another group of 'camp patients'.
These patients are the most important element in our work, and the reason for us to look back on our lives and say with assurance that ‘we have touched someone’s life.’ Thanks to you, the donors, and to CBM, for being there.
