This is just the beginning...
The world is getting big. Fast. And as a result, more often than not, it likes to ask some pretty big questions: What do you want to do in the future? Where do you see yourself in 5 years? What kind of impact do you want to leave on this planet? Gulp. As a twenty-something-year-old young adult, who's yet to remove her wisdom teeth, these questions are daunting. Scary. And the world wants answers now.
It was during the winter break of 2023 when I again rode the wave of an existential crisis, trying to gain control of my surfboard and not plummet into the deep of never-ending questions. I opened my laptop and began the age-old search of career avenues. It produced an exhaustive list. I like research; I knew that. But that's a pretty broad field. I began to probe deeper.
During the summer months of the same year, I had done a clinical research internship at the Marcus Autism Center in Atlanta, United States—an institute that specializes in studying children with autism spectrum disorders (ASDs). It was an incredible experience, where I learned about outcome measurement and controlled trial studies being done to treat children with autism. Out of all the components of my internship at Marcus, I enjoyed observing the clinical interviews the most, as it gave me real-life insight on the patient's behavior and how they communicate their emotional concerns. It was also here where it occurred to me that the children, the patients, were not the only ones affected by their autism diagnosis but also their caretakers, notably their mothers. For majority of the clinical observations, appointments, call interviews, and questionnaires, it was the patients' mothers who accompanied and provided them with emotional support. Thus, if a mother's health is on the line, how can one expect her child, especially one who has a neurological disorder, to be healthy?
I started searching for institutes that focus on women's health.
The first organization that popped up in my search was the Public Health Research Institute of India (PHRII)—an organization that aims to build a bridge between evidence-based research and community health, allowing new findings to translate into the lives of women in rural India. I was moved by its mission. As an opportunity so close to home, where I had grown and been brought up in Bangalore, I thought it would be a great way to give back to my roots—which is the primary focus of PHRII.
"If a mother's health is on the line, how can one expect her child...to be healthy?"
I then reached out to Ms. Poornima Jaykrishna, the administrator, and Dr. Purnima Madhivanan, one of the co-founders. I received a warm welcome from them both. After several weeks of planning and arrangements, organizing and correspondence, things were finally set in motion. I packed my things and began the journey. The change in scenery was quick: green, summer foliage in Atlanta transformed to the busy, pre-monsoon traffic in Bangalore, later giving way to the gentle lull of Mysore. The road to the small city was calm and peaceful.
While I sat in the front seat listening to music, looking out at the orange Jacaranda trees that hung above clean streets, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. It was the first time that I would be living alone in a different part of India. The first time that I would be engaging in hands-on community healthcare instead of simply reading/hearing about it from an ivory tower. My stomach started to tighten, partially from being hungry. I devoured a dosa before heading to the site location.
As the car rolled outside the gates of PHRII, a white bungalow surrounded by bright pink Bougainvillea flowers, I first saw a man and a pony. He was quite old, somewhere in his late sixties, who guided his animal companion across the street with some Marie biscuits. The elderly man made sure to use kindness and care in his approach. Though this sight was perhaps nothing out of the ordinary, it stuck by me, as I encountered the same amount warmth by the faculty of PHRII. The same amount of warmth that they showed towards women and their wellbeing.
My nervousness soon faded.
"The first time that I would be engaging in hands-on community healthcare instead of...from an ivory tower."
After a warm bucket bath and putting on some fresh clothes, I then finally said goodnight. The sounds of a dog barking and an auto passing by gave way to the silence of sleep. The next day would mark the start of new discoveries and learning.
It was just the beginning...
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