THE DOCTOR WITH THE GOLDEN, HEALING TOUCH: CARLOS BARRETO
By Xavier Cota
[email protected]
Hundreds of people who streamed in and out of his residence
and the mass of humanity which overflowed Margao's Holy
Spirit Church for his funeral last month, were a small
testimony to arguably the best orthopaedic surgeon that Goa
has ever produced -- the legendary Dr. Carlos Barreto.
He was known as the doctor with the golden healing touch. But
behind this expression which was not an exaggeration, lay a
surgeon who was a lifelong student.
He was a voracious reader who kept abreast with the latest
that was happening especially in the word of medicine. And
though his chosen field was orthopaedic surgery, his
knowledge of the entire body rivalled that of many
specialists. This was because he believed in holistic
healing. As a result, his was never a blinkered vision.
Unlike many allopathic doctors, he read widely into
other systems of medicine like Ayurveda, Homeopathy
and Unani and was a firm believer in the wisdom and
efficacy of several tried home remedies, which he
encouraged his patients to make use of.
He passed away in harness, as the Associate Professor of
Orthopaedics. And what a teacher he was. He set the
orthopaedics course of study both for the undergraduate and
post-graduate streams of Goa University. If he was fazed when
he was passed over for Head Of Department (HOD), the post
that he richly deserved, he didn't particularly show it.
As he put it, "It is the person who dignifies the chair,
the chair does not dignify the person."
A whole generation of doctors passed out from his hands. His
complete mastery of the subject and of the English language
made him an excellent communicator. Combined with his
legendary skills in the operation theatre, he demonstrated to
both his awed students as also to the other members of his
surgical team that he could indeed walk the talk.
Dr. Carlos encouraged even his junior-most students to give
their own opinions saying that gems sometimes come from the
mouths of babes. He freely passed on to students, skills that
he had himself painstakingly acquired. He invited them to
make their own judgements, "Evaluate it yourself, don't
take somebody's word for it."
But he also cautioned them, "Know your limits.
Don't ever get over-confident, you rascals!" He
backed his juniors to the hilt and had no
hesitation in telling his patients not to be taken
in by the youthful looks of a young resident, "In
this particular case, this boy knows better than
me." Ego was never a problem with him. As one of
his former students, Associate Professor Dr. Zelio
D'Mello said in his eulogy, "Very often, he told
us, 'Don't call me Sir, I haven't been knighted
yet. I am Carlos'."
The lessons that legions of students, associates,
subordinates and admirers learned from Carlos were manifold
and should stand them in good stead in their professional as
in their personal lives.
Dr. Carlos Barreto was a very meticulous professional --
whether he was writing a prescription with detailed
instructions, a report in a medico-legal case in his neat,
clear handwriting, not the proverbial doctor's scribble. Or
whether he was operating, which he did with great precision,
competence and speed.
A favourite expression of his was, "There is no
such thing as a minor surgery -- only minor
surgeons!" This attention to detail, he displayed
even during his internship. As a former HOD said,
"For most medical graduates, internship is a year
of fun, but not for Carlos." He soaked in whatever
knowledge and experience he could, spending hours
beyond his time wherever he was posted. And as Dr.
Das a former Dean of GMC mentioned at the GMC
condolence meet, when Carlos shook hands with you,
you knew it was 'dil se' -- from the heart. For
patients, the firm handshake transmitted warmth and
positive energy which built up their confidence.
Yet another hallmark of his was his deep and abiding faith in
God. His prayer before any operation was, "God, guide our
heads, our hearts and our minds." He urged his team members,
of whatever denomination, to similarly pray. And patients who
couldn't be helped further by medical science, were urged to,
"Keep praying. Unbelievable things happen when you pray." And
many were indeed rewarded with miraculous cures.
A secret of his great success was his firm belief in exercise
and he would spend a long time teaching patients, exercises
to rehabilitate them faster, drawing graphics on their
prescriptions lest they forget. He himself kept fit with
jogging and yoga and his remarkable strength belied his frail
looks. His team members readily admit that when their
stronger muscles could not pull out plates and rods inserted
to treat fractures, only Dr. Carlos could succeed.
Naturally, the longest orthopaedic OPD queues at GMC were for
Dr. Carlos. Patients used to come especially to be examined
by him from all walks of life, from all over Goa, and even
all the way from Vengurla and faraway Sawantwadi -- and if
he wasn't there, many preferred to go back!
But despite having to often tackle even a hundred and twenty
patients in a session, he still offered the same encouraging
smile, displayed the same concern and gave the same
professional attention to the last as to the first patient.
And, pulling rank was abhorrent to him. Patients who flashed
VIP visiting cards and ministers' letters were given short
shrift and politely told to join the tail of the queue!
Another lesson that his students and associates learned from
him was his great compassion. Asst. Professor Dr. Shyamprasad
Nadkarni, one of his 'boys' recalls that he used to tell his
students, "The welfare of the patient should always be
paramount for you."
He advised them to pay special attention to very young
patients and he himself would spend a lot of time with
injured children, trying to make things easier for them. He
would grow very emotional at the sight of a victim rendered
paraplegic after an accident.
His wife Dina, recalls that after spending gruelling hours in
the Operation Theatre, he would cheerfully go after eleven in
the night, tired and hungry though he was (since the canteens
were closed by then), and personally dress the wounds of a
gas gangrene patient -- a job that even nurses find
particularly distasteful because of the stench.
Often, he would pay from his own pocket for
medicines for poor patients. Dina, herself a ward
sister, admits that it was this humane nature which
attracted her to him. She remembers his touches of
thoughtfulness like keeping a warm cup of soup
ready for her when she was tired.
Dona Melba, his mother, a gentle elderly lady, who was very
close to her son, relates with tears in her eyes that even in
his last days, he used to make tea with his own hands and
bring it down to her.
Surprisingly, in his student days at Loyola High School,
Margao, Carlos nursed a serious ambition to be an Air Force
pilot -- not just any air force but the Royal Air Force! He
even wrote to them.
He proudly showed me the very courteous reply that
the RAF sent him, detailing the joining procedure.
Though he became a surgeon, he never lost his
interest in flying. I still remember how his face
glowed when he described the huge IAF Ilyushin IL
76 transport aircraft that he flew in, when he
headed the Red Cross team sent by the Goa
Government to aid the relief effort during the
Gujarat earthquake.
Fr. Avinash Rebello who delivered a poignant homily at his
funeral Mass spoke for all, and straight from his heart, when
he said that Goa had lost a truly great and humane doctor who
never treated any one differently -- from the rich to the
humble.
Fr. Avinash one of his earliest patients, still
recalls Dr. Carlos patiently teaching him to walk
on crutches many years ago following a mishap. Fr.
Rebello was also his last patient when he went to
him in the first week of this year. Carlos would
never again examine another patient. And nobody,
would accuse another patient of his, Fr. Socorro
Mendes, the main celebrant at his funeral mass, of
hyperbole when he called him Carlos the Great.
Today Carlos the Great is no longer with us, but he lives on
in the skills of the many competent doctors that he trained,
the concerned nurses whom he called "my many sisters-in-law",
and in the grateful hearts of thousands of patients many of
whom are whole today, only because of him.
Truly, we should be grateful that such a man walked with us
on this earth and that despite his crippling debility, he
could do so much good to so many people.
ENDS
