The first time I heard the term “camel toe” was when I was told by a doctor to stop eating the “very, very bad” diet I was trying to avoid.
I was in my early twenties and was living with my mother.
She was pregnant with my sister and I was living in the same room.
The doctor gave me a prescription for the drug Rituximab, which is used to treat the rare and deadly liver disease rhabdomyolysis, which has been linked to many of the deaths from rhabdo.
She gave me another prescription for a “cavalier diet” — to lose weight and cut down on sugar, salt and dairy products.
We had no money to pay for these medications, so I asked the doctor if she could give me a few months’ worth of money to buy the medicines.
She agreed and gave me Rs 4,000.
I was happy.
I had saved up a lot of money in the last few years, so now I could get the medicines I needed.
But the next day, the doctor returned with another prescription.
I didn’t have any money, so the doctor gave us Rs 10,000 to buy a second supply of the drugs.
I told the doctor I couldn’t pay the Rs 10,-000.
She said, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay the money, but you can’t get any money from me.
You have to go and buy some from the chemist, because he will give you the medicine for free.’
I went to the chemist.
I bought the medicines, and then I went to buy some milk.
I paid for the milk at the supermarket and went home, because I didn´t have any cash to buy milk.
On the day of my return, the pharmacist came to my room and said, “You mustn´t go home.
I don´t give you any money.
I will give this to the hospital for free.
I can give you a few more months’ time.
You can pay me the money now.”
I was so relieved.
I took out Rs. 20,000 from my pocket, and left the house.
My mother was angry, because she had to pay Rs. 6,000 more for the medication.
Then I saw the next morning that I had paid Rs. 10,001.
She said, “I don´te know how I got Rs. 40,000 for this medicine.
The only thing I know is that you have to give it to the doctor.”
I took the money from the pharmacy and went back to the house, and I went home and said to my mother, ‘My sister was killed by rhabdomyolytic colitis, and she had diabetes.
I am sorry that you had to buy all this medicine, but we need it.’
She said I should tell the hospital now that she had paid the money.
So I went back and told the hospital, and they asked me if I had any other money.
“Yes, we have a few lakhs left, ” I said.
‘But you need to give the medicines to the pharmacologist.‖I told them I didn`t have money.
Then they told me they had paid my money.
The pharmacologists, they didn´ts even know who I was.
I couldn´t pay them.
I cried a lot.
But they said,’Let me talk to the doctors.‡It was my last year in school.
My father had already retired and my mother was living independently.
A doctor from the hospital came to see me.
I asked him, ’Why did you give me Rs. 30,000?”He said,–I gave you Rs. 35,000, and you want Rs. 50,000 now.‘I told him I had no cash, but I told him that the hospital had given me Rs 15,000 and that I didnít have the money to give him any more money.“Let me see what we have left.He said.‚Let me take out the Rs. 5,000-a-day payment.‟I didn´ t know what to do.
I went downstairs to the kitchen.
The doctor told the kitchen staff to give me the Rs 5,500-a.m. payment.
The staff told me that they had to give Rs. 15,500, and that they would give the remaining Rs. 1,500 to the pharmacy.
I wasn’t angry.—But they didn’t.
They said,**You need to come back to work tomorrow.
We will send you Rs 20, 000 for the medicines for the hospital.
I went back outside and cried. The next