As a rule, Kavneet avoided medical camps. There was no
knowing how thorough the medical examination would be. In any case, she was
fairly confident of her general health and doubted she was the ideal candidate
to be benefitting from the exercise. Being the senior most bureaucrat however,
she had no choice but to lead by example and there she was, stretched out on
the examining table of a young gynaecologist. “She must be an intern, these
preliminaries can’t be all that demanding,” she thought idly, more to distract
herself from all the probing going on at the tail end. She sensed a sudden
pause, her thoughts broke abruptly and she had to ask the doctor to repeat
herself, “Sorry! You were saying?” Kavneet
raised herself on her elbows at the ensuing silence. There was no one with her,
only hushed whispers behind the green folding screen. She sat up hurriedly, flicking
her clothes down to cover her legs. Her heart had begun a slow drum.
“Ma’am, when did you hit menopause?” the doctor’s voice came
up muffled from under her head, bent over Kavneet’s medical papers. The patient
hemmed and hawed, scanning the years gone by, trying to make up her mind as
accurately as possible in the now urgent air around her. “I don’t remember
exactly but maybe a year ago,” the response was tentative. “There is no need to
worry Ma’am, I don’t want to alarm you,” the doctor tried to recover lost
ground with resumption of a classic bedside manner, “ but we will have to take
a sample for biopsy to the Shah Cancer and Research Institute Ma’am, it is a
routine procedure.” Fully aware of the need for dignity given her official
status, Kavneet put on a brave, even nonplussed face, ‘Sure, you need to do
what you need to do. But what is the symptom you are basing this investigation
on?” The doctor was young and slightly awed at having hit a diagnostic gold
with none other than Mrs Kavneet Kaur Ahluwalia, Principal Secretary (Higher
and Technical Education). She gabbled, “Fresh blood! I had barely begun the
internal examination Ma’am!” There was her entourage peeking into the door,
Kavneet just decided to cut her losses and take it forward after perusing the
papers thoroughly. On her way out to her waiting beacon vehicle, she overheard
her PA instructing the medical professionals, “Madam’s investigation must be
thorough and prompt. She is a very senior IAS officer.”
Back at her favourite couch in the beautiful Lutyens’
bunglow, Kavneet typed into her Dell’s search box, “Abnormal vaginal bleeding.”
Ten minutes of skimming and she was picking up the telephone, “Schedule an
appointment with the senior most gynaecologist at Shah immediately”. It wasn’t
long before the officer arrived at the hospital for her pre-procedure
anaesthesia and other relevant tests. The nosy hospital staff and her own
underlings had been busy, the “VIP aboard” cry had gone out and about. “Relax Mum,
it is a routine procedure, in fact in several civil hospitals, it is done in the
OPD, they don’t carry out a dilation and curettage any more. I will be back
home in half a day on the outside.” Kavneet’s WhatsApp was choking with
messages of concern from friends and family. She assured her mother as best as
she could and followed her PA towards the Surgical Wing on the designated day.
Just as he was stepping back to let her into the revolving door first, she spoke
up, “Oh no, I think I have left my spectacles in the car. Can you fetch them
for me please?”’
There is no way Kavneet would have known that the wheel of destiny was about to turn. A mangy cur, curled up under the Principal
Secretary’s car took umbrage at the disturbance to his snooze and lunged at the
PA’s unsuspecting ankle. An ugly crunch resounded in the afternoon quiet as the
angry canine ravaged human flesh down to the bone. The dog jangled at the leg
and shook it like a stuffed doll. Her PA’s terror stricken howl went crashing at
Kavneet’s ears so that she did an instant about turn. By the time she reached
the car, her PA was on the emergency stretcher and being rapidly wheeled away
to the ICU. The vicious bite had severed his ankle and there was no stemming
the blood. 
A month later however, the very same car was back in the
hospital parking bay. The PA had repaired beautifully, thanks to the standard hospital
protocol and was back in the saddle, fit as a fiddle. Kavneet on the other hand
was undergoing yet another investigation on another accidental discovery. Even
as she lay down to succumb to the radiologist’s administrations for the third
time, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Please don’t mind Ma’am but the menopause
transition takes several and highly individual courses in different ladies. For
some, it is stormy, others barely notice it. I believe your Gynaecologist is
treating you for an altogether different syndrome.” He waited for a prompt then
placed the camera head on her lower abdomen with a definitive wave, “It is
called VIP syndrome Ma’am!!”
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