I was born and raised in India in a humble family.  My journey and curiosity about my own body and health started in 1982, when after high school graduation, I went into a coma for 32 days due to meningitis and hepatitis A.

 

Due to my young age, I was the only one out of 12 other patients in the hospital at the time with similar issues who had survived. Thereafter, I had many questions: why it happened, what could have been done to prevent it, why only I and no one else were lucky enough to survive, etc.  Growing up in society, I was surrounded by and exposed to the poor and the homeless.

 

Due to a lack of active direction, support, or resources, it took me 20 years to finally achieve my ambition to become a physician. I was fortunate for an opportunity to immigrate to the United States as a student.  I worked hard on part-time, and full-time jobs to put and pay for myself through school.  I went into medicine to find answers and to help the poor and the homeless.

 

I did not go into medicine for money. I learned that medicine only provides very few answers. Despite advancing science and technology, no physician on this planet knows more than 5% of how this fascinating human body works. We learn something new every day with most still unknown.  Despite the unknown, we are still able to help keep many patients alive and comfortable.

 

It is hard to fathom it was over 30 years ago when I walked through the door for the first class in medical school to a professional career in medicine. After so much time, it is natural to pause and reflect. How did the years pass and what did I learn? After I first started a medical practice in NJ, from 2002 to 2008, every Saturday, I went to Tent City, in Lakewood, NJ to take of homeless patients.

 

Unfortunately, the city uprooted the homeless and demolished their tents. I have always accepted Medicaid patients and never turned anyone away.  Over the years, I paid for gym membership for some of my patients to get them motivated and focused on their health. 

 

When I saw patients on late Fridays, I paid for some of my homeless patients' overnight or weekend motel stays, so they could make it to the social services on Monday. I provide free care to residents of Ocean’s Harbor House, a supervised transitional living program for older youth ages 16 years to 21 years.

 

Harbor House provides shelter for vulnerable youth who are homeless or experiencing problems at home, sex trafficking, etc. and offers supervised housing and life skills to help these young people become independent adults

 

Unless patients offer to pay their co-pays, I do not feel comfortable asking them for money.  For working patients without insurance, there is a flat fee of $75.  For the vulnerable or homeless, I provide free service, help them apply for Medicaid, get them placement in group homes or shelters, and help them move forward and believe they are somebody worth a ton out there.

 

I am a firm believer that people don’t choose to be poor or homeless.  The circumstances put them there.  It is our moral and ethical obligation as members of society to help uplift them.

 

Just like most other humans, I have had my share of ups and downs including health issues.  I am a double cancer survivor, first aggressive Prostate cancer at age 44 years and then Parotid gland cancer at age 52 years, along with major surgical complications.  I have been cancer-free for over 5 years now. I feel as if I am the luckiest human being alive. I look at the glass half full and not half empty.

 

Last year, one of my group practice colleagues commented, “Ranvir, my secretary drives a newer car than you”. I told him “New cars don’t bring peace, joy, happiness, and contentment; I am not trying to keep up with the Joneses next door”.  I drive a 2014 Toyota RAV4.  I do my oil changes, brakes, and other maintenance, and am very happy with what I drive.  I have a credit score of 826 and can buy a new car any day.  Is it necessary or worth it?  To me, it’s not.

 

At present, starting on a new journey, I have a small three-month-old practice of around 32 patients, 7 of them come once a month.  I get 1 or 2 new patients a week and see about 2 to 4 patients a week.  I am certain I will have a decent practice size in the next 6 to 12 months where I will be able to see 10 to 15 patients daily. 

 

Each day I summon the energy and fortitude to recommit myself to care for, treasure, guide, empathize with, cultivate, listen to, nurture, speak meaningfully with, and value every patient I see. I attempt to do so with wisdom and compassion, talent and grace. As a physician, I am human and imperfect, but I strive to do the best I can.

 

I keep trying my best and hopefully, my patients will continue to see that as a one-person operation/office, I am there for them 24 x 7 via phone, voicemail, and texts. Currently, I spend anywhere from 1 to 3 hours per new patient depending on their issues, and average 1 hour per follow-up. 

 

As for prescription medicines do not heal or cure anything, other than a temporary band-aid on symptoms. I focus on helping prevent chronic health issues.  I strive to educate and help motivate patients towards functional medicine with a lifestyle change with a focus on: circadian rhythm and sleep hygiene, stress management, diet and nutrition, exercise, correction of imbalances at the cellular level, achievement of contentment and happiness, prevention of health issues, and lastly the pharmacotherapy.

 

I do house calls on 3 patients who are disabled and find it hard to come to the office due to transportation needs etc.  I like the practice of medicine the old-fashioned way, where the patient-physician relationship has the ultimate trust and respect for each other.

 

I don’t have much to gloat about in my life, but I keep moving forward at a turtle pace to help anyone and everyone who needs my help. I may be the poorest physician in NJ by choice but I am happy and content. Three decades in healthcare, half my life! The concept is enriching, humbling, gratifying, amazing, and sobering with empathy for every human being out there.