This post is fat too long which is why I never published it. Please try and read it … pretty please …all 6 of you who still visit this site.

Your first day in medical school: three subjects for one year: biology, physics and chemistry, mostly rodents, reptiles and Schiff bases…stuff I can’t remember anymore, nor will I ever need.

Your second and third year in medical school: You’re finally seeing a human body for the first time, you see the parts (anatomy), the mechanisms (physiology) and the witchcraft (biochemistry).

Your fourth and fifth year: You analyze diseases, study about pathology and microbiology but barely see twenty patients a year; half the time you don’t know what they are doing or what you’re doing to them just taking a general patient history (interview) and physical exam (forget the diagnosis, that’s miles off).

The final year: you read, read, read and read – realising that you’ve barely seen enough to know what or how to recognise what you’re reading if a patient even suffered from it.

Graduation Day: You’re happy! YOU ARE DONE! But what now? Where do you go from here? You’ve passed, you know your stuff but don’t know what’s next ; The reasons why you went to medical school are forgotten and you’re not all that inspired, you want to treat people but don’t even know how to prescribe yet.

That’s a summary of my medical “education” and as most of you can tell, I’m not exactly satisfied by it. Now, I’m not an educator, I’m no teacher. They need to inspire, to possess that ability to make you trust them enough to guide you; they have to have that gift that lets them build a mental structure in which information can be stored and eventually made useful. Sadly, few of my superiors did – and looking around at the new batch of interns from both Kuwait and abroad – few seem inspired. Don’t get me wrong, they work hard, right to the bone, they have skills but not the useful ones.

How many of the young doctors you see or meet actually make you feel comfortable, know how to ask the right question at the right time, know how to relay to someone they have a grave disease such as cancer or that a loved one died minutes ago?

How many of the doctors reading this (if any.. ) actually feel a sense of awe at what they do? How many of us actually enjoy reading about how IV fluids (drip…or ‘drib‘ as they say in Kuwaiti slang) were originally made, how the inhalers (‘Ventolin’) we use evoloved, why we tend to wear green, blue or green scrubs rather then white or grey ones? Or who the first open heart surgeon and how did he achieve that milestone? How many of us were taught the ethics behind palliative care? Contraception? Experimental treatments? Or how clinical trials evolved and the difference between them and standard treatments?

Medical history isn’t the reason why you went to medical school, it isn’t how you save lives, but in that third year when all you know is the Krebs cycle (the gearbox of your metabolism) and the anatomy of the Brachial plexus (nerves in your arms) you need to feel inspired by people who’ve done it before you. You need to find a reason to read, to debate, to analyse and to understand and during that final year, you need to learn why trying out new treatments for MS and charging people for it is unethical and why the current manager (‘mudeer‘) is a douchebag and why patients blame you for cancer rather than try to understand it…

You don’t learn these things in textbooks on surgery, rheumatology or internal medicine, and contrary to popular belief, you won’t learn them by parading the hallways in your new white coat and seeing fifty patients in the E.R.; you learn them by reading about ethics, sociology and other humanities that underpin our profession.

Kuwait University and others like it have the ability to reshape education and inspire us. The reason why they can is – because unlike other institutions – they were built from the ground up to educate us; other institutions need to attract research grants to survive,we don’t.

We also have experienced faculty, there are people currently teaching who were there when stomach stapling came to Kuwait and can tell us how they tackled it, how they dealt with errors made during those first cases. We have people who saw Viagra become the drug du jour and who saw the eradication and rebirth of tuberculosis in Kuwait.

We need to reshape our education and have graduates who can debate, discuss and be knowledgeable in our field without feeling the need to read about ethics once a day. Maybe then we’ll stop hearing about how doctors who “don’t know my name“, “don’t spend enough time with me” or are “too brash” or “shayif nafsa” (arrogant) – maybe then doctors won’t get slapped around too much.

I’ll leave you with the following quote relayed to me one afternoon years ago, inspiring a sense of awe. John Cardinal Newman describes a university as a citadel built with the purpose of:

‘Raising the intellectual tone of society, at cultivating the public mind, at purifying the national taste, at supplying true principals to popular aspirations, at giving enlargement and sobriety to the ideas of the age, at facilitating the exercise of political powers, and refining the intercourse of private life.’

I only hope that one day the spirit of the above quote materializes at the local university, one whose faculty and students should really expect much more from each other.

Today I was so pleasantly surprised to discover a hidden treasure for kids with mechanical and robotic interests (If any of the kids you know like Lego, they are guaranteed to love this place). I originally heard about it from an acquaintance and must say I was impressed. The place is like a Robotic Centre created by MILSET (A French acronym for ‘International Movement for Leisure Activities in Science and Technology’). After hard work, the Ministry of Education backed up the idea and provided a venue: a humble renovated building in Rawda near a gas station.

Kids there are really encouraged to think which in this part of the world is rare. They are presented with problems given by the main centre to all MILSET global branches and try to offer solutions to that problem in regards to their environment (e.g. traffic). I saw wonderful solutions presented by even twelve year olds. In addition, they learn how to install programs from a computer into actual mini robots. Additionally, each student is given his own robot which is locked safely in a tool box when the student leaves (this is all provided free of charge). All you need to offer is a picture of the member. Unfortunately since it is a fairly new club, memberships for the moment are restricted to Kuwaitis boys only (they don’t have female employees yet, hence the ‘boys only’ aspect).

There are competitions held there as well; presently the ‘Fourth Annual School Robot Competition’ is being held where the finalist goes to Jordan for the semi-finals and the winners go to the United States for the finals. More than three thousand students attend that from all over the world.

If you are interested here is their link: www.milsetasia.org

Check out the video above (taken in 2008 by RTL); It features a European Parliament member whose monthly salary is 14,000 Euros (KD 5,580) sign in for work then dash out with their luggage.
Even moralistic Green Party MEP Hiltrud Breyer, one of the founding members of its party signs in, dashes, out banging her head on the elevator entrance. Maybe she was going to save a beached whale somewhere or harass a super tanker with an inflatable dinghy.
I always thought not coming to work, or signing in and dashing out was a Kuwaiti tradition perfected by Kuwaiti Government employees. Whenever you venture to a Kuwait Government establishment, you rarely see any Kuwaitis, only the Indian tea boy, the Bangladeshi cleaning boy, and the Egyptian clerk.
It seems even Europeans are not immune to laziness and cheating on the job.

(Still from Al-Arabiya)

Kuwait has one of the highest accident rates in the world, and it is only getting worse.

The recent tragic accident on a Doha, Kuwait highway resulting in the death of five individuals with fourteen injured (the victims included onlookers and racers on the popular highway strip) only goes to show that being on the road has turned into a hazard for all citizens.

When is this country – an affluent country – going to build a racetrack a la Bahrain or Abu Dhabi so kids can go race and save themselves and us further tragedies. It is time for Kuwait to build a track, whether its government or private funded is irrelevant; young men will never change, they speed, they show off, they do stupid car tricks – at least at the race track they can race, blow of steam and improve their driving and be monitored.

From what I have been relayed, Basil Salem Al-Sabah tried for years to push for a race track but was shunned – this was followed by offers from private citizens willing to invest in a race track but the government refused them land and permission.

This is a serious safety issue and the government needs to move on this as ASAP.

On Christmas Day, I had my brother send me some medications from the United States through Fed-Ex. When the package was late, I attributed it to the holiday rush. When ‘late’ turned into ‘very late’ and the website clearly showed the package was in Kuwait, we started calling them on a daily basis and every time we would got the same answer: “Customs took them for inspection and when they give us a specimen number we will call you.”

A “specimen number“! Sounded like a Sci-Fi movie line. I had been receiving my medications from the U.S. for ten years through Fed-Ex and never had this happen to me before except for that one time during the war on Saddam a few years back.

January 11th – There is still no “specimen number.” I lost hope so I reordered them through my doctor there.

January 14th – Called them again and finally at 7.30 p.m. I got my number – almost screamed out ‘Bingo!’ even though I never played the game. Bear in mind that I was the one who called (‘customer care’ being such a cliché’) and it was a Thursday so nothing could be done until Sunday morning.

I was told to go to the Ministry of Health, the ‘Drug Inspection Department’ near Sabah Hospital where I can collect my “specimen”.

January 17th – Finally we hit Sunday. Woke up early, no breakfast, rushed out to avoid traffic and after a few wrong turns I was there at 8.20 a.m. It was a Department all right, more like a low ceiling three room apartment. It was a “chabra” literally like the ones they put temporarily for engineers at a building site. As I entered the door I couldn’t help but notice the pieces of glued grey thin carpet on the corridor floor. To my left was a closed door with a ‘Parcels’ sign on it. Next to it was a window counter with a man wearing a lab coat.

“Where can I get my Fed-Ex parcel?” He pointed to the door next to him.

“But it’s locked,” I said. He came out and said “Wait shwaya, he’ll be back” referring to the man ‘in charge of parcels’.

“Can’t you call him?” I asked.

“No mobile.”

I waited, and waited, shifting from one foot to the other trying to hold on to my favorite but extremely heavy bag resisting the urge to place it on such an ugly, filthy floor.

My legs seemed fast asleep even though I didn’t get more than 4 hours of sleep that night. I had to sit. No sign of any chair around, so I decided to explore. There were three or four rooms to the right and one more to the left. I peeked through one and saw a woman working behind a desk in a minute room with two chairs placed in a straight line near the door. I asked her if I could sit and she welcomed me in. The chair was of the old black leathery dusty variety, with a folded table attached; the kind used for students. Why would they place such a chair there is beyond me. The room, like all the others, had rubber floorings of something like a tile design. (A bit of mix and match decor with the dinghy carpeted hall I guess!).

As I glanced around, my eyes widened in astonishment; I saw their method of file storage: a large Fed-Ex box. a used, old torn half-cut Fed-Ex box. Even the logo tape was struggling to hold on to the sides of the box. That was only one of many of the collections of carton boxes used for storage on the floor.

Then I heard a woman complaining to a man, also wearing a lab coat, that she has no “specimen number” only her Fed-Ex paper and I knew it was my queue. I followed her and the man who finally opened the sacred ‘Parcels’ room. I couldn’t believe it. It was so minute that if you were claustrophobic you would have suffocated with the three of us in there. To the left was a glass cabinet where all the small parcels were and on the floor were all the bigger boxes. The man was very helpful trying to match the woman’s name to any of the numbers he had in his big lined notebook (or as we call it “kashkool”). Don’t even think the word computer is going to show up here – we are talking 1965 stuff here, folks.

He looked at his ledger, shaking his head in dismay.

Numbers 1 to 19 all had names and their parcels had arrived.

Numbers 20 to 30 had no names and no parcels (i.e. blank pages).

Numbers 30 to 40 contained names and parcels.

As the woman talked to the Fed-Ex office pleading for a “specimen number” so she could take her post-surgery meds, the man found my name one number below my given one.

The parcel was stacked with others in the stuffy glass cabinet. Thank God it was not August otherwise I would have needed meds to recover from my expired meds! Just when I thought I was done, he looked at me with a sympathetic smile, “Sorry can’t give you without a prescription”.

I was shocked.

“Well I don’t have it with me now! I do have it somewhere at home” then I stopped myself before blurting out “I think“. So he motioned me to follow him. We walked until the door at the end of the corridor leading to a considerably large room. There was a woman behind a desk inside that spacious room where scented candles were lit. She was so into her pink laptop that she did not even lift her eyes to look at me as she answered my “salam“. Eye contact was wishful thinking. So I decided not to even bother explaining anything to her.

The man explained the problem, assuring her I had the prescription paper at home as he placed the form near her laptop. She took one glance (at the paper of course), nodded, and gave her approval.

I was so relieved my parcel hunt was over but even more relieved to leave that place. It was yet another reminder of our reality when we are supposed to be one of the richest countries in the world and still have decrepit systems and processes in place, not to mention surroundings.

I’ll write again when my next “specimen” arrives and Fed-Ex kindly inform me where to pick it up (Door to Door 2010 style). That is if they ever let my meds through after today.

بدون مقدمات … اليكم المشاهد المؤلمة في حق الكويت والكويتيين

أترك التعليق لكم

Kleptocracy is a form of political corruption that refers to a state in which politicians exploit natural resources in order to stay in power. Does that sound similar to something that’s been happening in Kuwait these days?

To answer “Yes” would be to disregard the nature of Kuwait’s society as an Arab and Muslim caretaker ethos.

It is written in our Holy Book as Muslims that people should spend their wealth towards the benefit of the larger society whenever they can. Religiously, it’s Zakat, where the Muslims pay their annual tax either directly to people in need (at the discretion of the Zakat payer)or in some cases towards a central collections authority that then distributes it to betterment of the society, by way of social development, through schools, hospitals, mosques, homes, etc…Wealthy people with hearts of gold race each other to build something that would benefit society, especially in Kuwait. Examples range from renovating hospital wards, building schools, educational endowments and scholarships, all the way to providing free housing and job opportunities.

To answer “NO” would be to ignore the fact that Kuwait’s wealth is solely built upon one natural resource: Oil.

This resource is controlled by the state, its production and sale is controlled by the state, and the revenue it generates is distributed by the state, the distribution process is performed by way of paid salaries, social allowances and benefits. There is no “Free Money” in the Government’s Monetary cycle. This means that anyone who works for the state will earn enough money to stay safe and housed, but would never earn enough money to become rich enough to run for political office.

So the first question in this logic is, how does a Kuwaiti Politician become a Kleptocrat in a supposed Democracy?

The First route is the simplest: Active Networking. You make enough friends and acquaintances to build a large enough network of supporters that would vote you into office. How that happens is too lengthy for this post, but think “Tribal/Sectarian/Primary Elections” and you get the picture. They would then support you financially and politically.

The Second route is more difficult: Passive Networking. You build up your reputation as a capable and fierce supporter of justice and equality so much that it becomes visible to the masses, who will turn towards you for assistance and guidance. You then make your way up to the top, only this time it’s due to your hard work and reputation, not your connections and affiliations. This is a textbook example of how a Democracy should be held; the power of the people would select the most ideal candidate to represent them, based on principles, morale standing and reputation.

The Third route is Nomination: An individual or a group would appoint you as their representative, and would then mobilize all of their resources to support you into office. Once there, you’d be doing their bidding as their representative in Government. It’s closely connected to Active Networking, but without the means nor the skills to to so. This may be acceptable in may Democracies, especially where Political parties and affiliations are admissible.

The Fourth route is Hereditary: You’re born into government and rule by association. Examples include Kingdoms, Sheikhdoms and hereditary Republics. Your Mommy or Daddy ruled over everyone, and when they die, their authority reverts to you, barring the presence of any legal framework that would prevent, undermine or limit the extent your authority (such as a Constitution).

The Fifth and Final route is Money: You buy your way into Politics. This is the most corrupt and dangerous route into politics. Your constituents are composed of paid mouths who will sing your praises for a fee, or people already in power that you have packed into your shirt pocket, or legal representatives who will manipulate the Law in order to facilitate your ascension to Political power.

In this context, consider all the present Members of Parliament and the Government currently in office, would any of them fall under a different category? Hardly! Some of them are an actual and clear embodiment of some or all of these descriptions.

Case in Point: HADAS, Salafists, Popular Action Bloc, National Democratic Alliance, they’re all political affiliations and de-facto political parties who nominate the most suitable candidate from among them and support this candidate into office to represent them. The problem is, these parties do not enjoy the benefit of a legal acknowledgement under the current Kuwaiti Law, nor do they represent the masses in terms of their political agenda, but, rather simply, they enjoy the generalized affiliation of the masses who have shared principles and the perceived moral standing of their members.

In other words, “I’m a Salafist, so I’ll vote for XX the Salafist in my constituency“, or “I’ve taken out a large Bank Loan, so I’ll vote for the Popular Action Bloc whose agenda will force the Government to write off all Consumer Loans“. Generally speaking, it’s as simple as that!

On the other had, those in Government, namely those in the “Hereditary” offices, will strive to protect their personal and political interests from those that strive to attack them, so they utilize their wealth and political power in order to attain their goals. Currently, MP Faisal Al Muslim is trying to prove this is the case with the Prime Minister.

MP Al Muslim raises a difficult question: If you’re not from a wealthy merchant family, but you’ve managed to use your personal wealth to protect your political position in Government, taking into account that you’re only source of income ‘should have been’ your salary, how can you afford to spend so much money to protect your interests? But the MP raises yet another question: If you’ve risen only from among the masses within your tribal, sectarian or regular connections – who support and assist your endeavors – what gives you the right to attack the Prime Minister in the name of the People with documents you’ve obtained under shady circumstances?! I believe that MP Al Muslim was trying to prove that the Prime Minister was a Kleptocrat, who usurps his position, power and wealth in order to control and manipulate the Parliament.

As a person who has intimate knowledge of the Kuwaiti Banking Sector, I’m fully aware of the legal penalties that entail the exposure of private information and/or documents within the Bank; I have seen, first-hand, what happens to people who do ‘these things’, willingly or otherwise. Not only is it in complete violation of the employee’s contract with the bank, let alone sickeningly unprofessional, but more seriously, it’s a betrayal of the employer, the people and shareholders you work for, and may well get you into prison, destroying your reputation completely without even the slightest chance of redemption.

Constitutionally, if proven correct, the documents pertinent to this case allude to a clause within Article 111 of the Kuwaiti Constitution, which states:

“Article 111: Except in cases of flagrante delicto, no measures of inquiry, search, arrest, detention, or any other penal measure may be taken against a member while the Assembly is in session, except with the authorisation of the Assembly.” (“Flagrante delicto” means “Caught in the act of a misdeed”).

I’m no lawyer, but I imagine that if it’s proven that the documents in MP Al Muslim’s possession are authentic, it stands to reason that they have reached him via unauthorized means, which means clearly he’s caught red-handed in the crime of possessing private and personal documents. Moreover, he would also be guilty of committing a crime by association of the person who had given him these documents in the first place, and if both these crimes are proven against MP Al Muslim in court, they make the case against the Prime Minster completely illegal since the evidence against him was obtained illegally, and is therefore inadmissible in court.

What remains in question is where did the money came from? Let’s assume I’m one of those tree-hugging-love all-live all-people who claim that if it were from the Prime Minister’s personal funds, then so be it; he’s a kind-hearted person who likes to spend his wealth helping people (and it’s his personal wealth that he’s using) so any suspicion of misusing public funds gets thrown out the window. But then again, why pay an MP (he did not run for reelection this time) when that person has no clear use for that amount of money? His income is secured by way of his pension from the Parliament, so he’s pretty well financed and secured. Moreover, many former MP’s become board members of private companies, with very beefy salaries, or revert back to the family business, if one exists. So what’s this payment all about?

And finally, what gives MP Al Muslim – a representative of the people – the right to use illegally obtained documents as ‘evidence’ against the Prime Minister’s ”misuse of public funds”? If anything, this case proves what I’ve been blogging about all along; Proper reforms come from proper voting. Representation should be based on holistic needs and demands, not sectarian nor tribal agendas. MP Al Muslim may have shocked the state’s perceptions of the extent of corruption, some may say, but others may also claim that he’s unsuccessfully tried to prove what we all know; People in Power are liable to be corrupt, no matter what side of the law they may be standing on. His Immunity as an MP made him believe he’s untouchable, while simultaneously trying to prove the same about the Prime Minister.

Power corrupts – and absolute power corrupts absolutely – and that goes for MP Al Muslim too!