Work, off late has been more stressful than ever before. When a medical institute is run by a bunch of business heads, it isn’t the best deal ever. It’s like the staff and the management speaks different languages. One speaks of number and others of human beings as whole-emotions and all. Therefore, while the management talks of numbers based on formula they have devised, it is nearly impossible to drill into daft heads that human beings cannot be reduced to numbers or formulas. There has to be some fluidity, some liquidity and some freedom. There’s something called compliance, wherein the patient needs to come in to see you three times a week. If they don’t it apparently means that the staff is not convincing enough, actually incompetent is more like it. Anyhow, I hate systems and processes. My job is to get a patient better and that’s all I know and care about. The extra burden of Numbers cannot fall on my shoulders for I am not qualified to understand those and nor do I like them. Which leaves me convinced that I need to quit and start of on my own. A more holistic practice where in I have the peace of mind and freedom to follow my own instincts. A perfect mix of emotions and physical health and dealing with the person as a whole. Even if it means just talking and thereby releasing unconscious caught up stuff. But there’s always this self doubt and slight scepticism about not having a fixed income. Not that the present salary is worthy to go gaga about but still. What if patients don’t like me. What if I cannot connect with the Indian population? Oh well, I know one thing for sure that everything will sort itself out after my annual trip to Pondicherry but until then I am going to write about my inner feelings and vent.