OffenceBhavna sat in the crowded Outpatients’ Department, taking quick histories and scribbling prescriptions. If she calculated how much time she was able to devote to each patient, it would average out to a miserly two or three minutes at best. In that time, she was supposed to decide how sick the patient was, what the problem could be, whether the patient needed to be admitted, and the further plan of action. And all the while there were interruptions. Relations and hangers-on barging in, calls from the Emergency Room, people wanting to know where the Injection Room was. And you couldn’t afford to lose your patience with any of them; it merely wasted more time. Initially, Bhavna's meticulous nature had rebelled against this disorganization. Patients were supposed to be patient, weren't
