In 1993, when my ex, my son, and I moved to Beirut, the city was still "small" and conventional, especially when it came to doctors. At that time, a few doctors still made house visits, which was something I had never heard of, except for country doctors in movies. One such doctor was Dr. Mubarak. Even back then, he was pretty old, yet he lived for almost another thirty years. In that time, he came to my children's and my rescue numerous times. And since he's been on my mind lately, I want to tell you about him.
He was a general practitioner with an awe-inspiring knowledge of the body, illnesses, and medicine. Dr. Mubarak didn't take appointments, only walk-ins, and if you caught him at the right time and you lived close, he would go to your flat. His clinic was on the second floor of the building next to ours, so we only needed 5 minutes to get there. The building had an old-timey elevator with an expanding metal gate. If my children or I were not too sick to walk the stairs, we did as we did not trust riding in such an old contraption.
His clinic was something out of the 1950's. The furniture was pretty cool though, most mid-century pieces, but the walls were extremely drabby and in need of paint. Clean with a place to sit and wait, it worked. As you walk into his office, you were met with a desk with heaps of medicine and papers - a total mess. The shelves to the left were the same. And to the right was the exam table. There was never any sanitary paper to cover it, which you find in most doctor's offices these days. And next to the table was the most incredible X ray machine, definitely a Soviet era model. Yes, that's right, this machine was in his office. And I know he was still using it because he took an x ray of a family member's chest. This machine was huge, bulky, and dark brown, like a lurking monster in the corner. I imagine this machine was one of the first models, nothing like the sparkling high-tech instruments you see nowadays. And who knows how much radiation patients were subjected to just to get an x ray.
But Dr. Mubarak knew his stuff, given the number of years he practiced, it makes sense. He must have seen it all. Once, my daughter had a rash on her skin. Since she was itching and uncomfortable, I took her to see the doctor. We sat down in his office, and he asked to see her arms and then asked her to raise her shirt. In less than 5 seconds, he said it was an allergic reaction to the laundry detergent. I was shocked and asked how he knew. He said that the rash was only on the skin that was in contact with her clothes and added that he had seen this before. He then suggested using a different soap and less of it. And his prognosis did the trick.
Another time, I was seriously sick. I was having difficulty breathing and very weak. I went to see Dr. Mubarak. He listened to my breathing, asked me how I felt. I told him it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. Nodding, he I had a bronchial infection. Under all those papers on his desk, he brought out a box of antibiotics and vitamins and explained how to take these. I never understood how he knew where any medicine was in the chaos of his desk or shelves, but he did. So, in 10 minutes, I was home and in bed to rest and recover.
So many times, and I really don't remember how many, Dr. Mubarak came to our flat. Most of the times, my children were sick either with an ear or throat infection, but one time, even after my ex took my son to the emergency room, my son was still intensely ill with nausea and severe abdominal pain. We were frantic and did not know what to do since the medicine the hospital had given him was not working. The solution of course was to call Dr. Mubarak. He came, examined my son, and told us to immediately to take him to the hospital since he had appendicitis. We were shocked and told the doctor that we had taken my son to the hospital, and they had told us that he had a stomach virus. Shaking his head incredulously, he said, "Please tell them that Dr. Mubarak says that it's appendicitis and they have to do better."
Another time, my ex's cousin was complaining of reoccurring flu symptoms - fever, severe body aches, exhaustion, and dizziness. She was so affected that she could not manage everyday life. She had seen several doctors and done many tests, but not one could figure out what was going on with her. She then went to see Dr. Mubarak. He listened calmly to her, examined her, and then concluded that she most probably was sick because of "an insect". He had her go to the hospital for a protocol of intravenous antibiotics and prescribed vitamins and rest. And he concluded this long before doctors were talking about lyme disease.
It wasn't only that Dr. Mubarak was an amazing doctor; he was also an amazing human being - such a decent kind man. He was a doctor from the time when doctors were truly about helping people, not about making money. A visit only cost $20, and if he went to your flat, you gave a bit extra. If he thought you gave too much, he would return part of the money. He also treated domestic help. He never turned any one away. Over the years, I took our housekeepers many times, and he always helped them. And he usually gave them free sample medicine to limit the cost.
Dr. Mubarak was special, a gentle wise soul. He was a role model for the community: intelligent, understanding, respectable, and professional. He embodied human goodness; sadly, something you don't come across often these days. I feel incredibly fortunate to have known him and for him to have looked after my family and me. Thank you, Dr. Mubarak.
No comments:
Post a Comment