sphygmomaniometry

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Muthukur, Early 1950s:

This Farmer thought his wife was shamming illness and so fetched an English Doctor from Nellore. The Doc came in, opened his medicine bag, took out a queer-looking object, inserted it into the wife's mouth, asked her to shut up, counted seconds on his own wrist for a whole minute, pulled the thing out, stared at it, asked for water into which he dipped it, took it out, whipped it down thrice, inserted it back into its case, asked her to open her closed mouth, dropped four drops of medicine, packed his bag, collected Rs 2 and walked out...when the Farmer ran after him and asked:

"Doctor! Where can I get one of those things with which you closed her mouth?"

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I don't recall having a countable pulse and measurable BP till I was 26.

Those days I was regularly down with my spring-summer-monsoon-winter-fevers that lasted 3 days and 4 nights. As soon as I felt it coming, I used to buy a couple of dozen Codopyrin tablets and gulp one tablet each half-an-hour before my lecture classes, take the class and return to my room in our Faculty Hostel and sleep off till the next lecture was due.

That morning, however, I overslept and missed my lecture class. And within half-an-hour, Dharam Vir, Subba Rao, Trivedi and Venky were knocking at my door and carried me to the only Private Physician in Prem Bazaar, Dr Sanyal;...does it happen nowadays at IT KGP...maybe...I don't know.

I slipped a tablet of Codopyrin into my mouth on the way.

Dr Sanyal was then young and alone, trying to catch a disturbing mosquito with his bare hands and succeeding only in loudly clapping as if calling for tea...Bengal was notorious those days for king-size anopheles mosquitoes that dodged even 'practicing' doctors.

And he warmed up as soon as he saw a rare customer led by a foursome (everyone knows this body requires a foursome at the end of its sojourn down here...sajan re jhoot muth bolo)...later on he became famous and rich and busy.

He asked me to sit on the tripod in front of him and held my wrist for a whole minute; and smiled at me. I was wondering what made him smile at a paying patient. He then announced:

"You have an athletic pulse!"

And this, when I was doing the one thing no athlete should do...smoking two packets of Wills Flakes a day.

So, I asked him what does it mean. He said it is observed in rare individuals whose pulse hovers around 50 instead of the default 72. I asked him what was mine and he said triumphantly: "47"

And I was wondering if it was that bad and foretold that I would die before even I consummated my marriage, in which case, folks told me I had to take birth again (and serve IIT KGP...Oh No!).

He read my mind and reassured me it was a symptom of good health since, although the heart-beat was slow, it was 'thundering'...meaning the pulse was high-volume.

He then opened his BP kit and went through the ritual and wrote down: 100 / 70. And again smiled. And said:

"You are hypotensive"

It sounded to me almost like a "dipso"...which I was not. And he once again reassured me that it is good to have a low BP, because it indicates a cool temper and a long long life (imprisonment).

(So far his predictions have come true)

One morning, much later, Amalendu dragged me to his Office, since he was curious to see what Ed Taylor's Software looked like...he was then writing his own software package which later was christened and sold as COSMO. He and his coworkers led me into a small air-conditioned cubicle with space enough for one PC and two persons...eventually there were six in all, everyone smoking except me...I was reformed soon after my marriage to Dr Rukmini Devi, MD...and as all reformed criminals, was allergic to my past.

After half an hour, I was feeling giddy and unable to concentrate. Voices were heard by me but made no sense. And it went on for two hours during which they were showing me what they were doing.

I returned to the scooter stand and tried to get on to it and start...which I succeeded on the fourth attempt. And the ride to my Qrs was hilarious...it was hit-and-miss with four innocent professors walking by the kerb.

As soon as I parked my scooter and went in, I dropped flat on the floor and my wife was afraid. When I narrated my symptoms, she fetched her BP kit and announced: 220 / 120. I thought I would be laid low any minute...a scary thought since I was too fond of my son to go away so soon.

And I asked her if I had to take any medicine. She said: "No, not necessary...anti-tensive drugs should be given only if the symptoms persist for 3 days at least."

And she asked me to just take it easy and lie down for a while. By the evening, I could actually multiply mentally 6 x 4 correctly and the BP apparatus showed 100 / 70 as usual.

Moral: Marry a Doctor!

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