Adjusting the Light

Wash and sanitize my hands, put my gown on, get close to the patient, verify the patient, do a timeout, adjust the light. Wash and sanitize my hands, put my gown on, get close to the patient, verify it’s the right patient, do a timeout, adjust the light…

This is my daily routine as a surgeon.

There are days when I perform this exact same routine close to 10 times. 10 different patients — same room, same team, same routine. However, just like the patient changes, the procedure may also change. I may be making an incision on the abdomen and exposing the kidney. I may do something minimally invasive where I just take small instruments and go inside the body. Sometimes, I even use a robot to assist us with the surgeries. But, regardless of the patient, regardless of the procedure, and regardless of what instrument I am using, the first thing that I adjust is the light.

Light is a significant part of my operations. There is a light on the camera of the telescopic lens I use to see inside organs. There are big, overhead lights for our open surgery cases which we can adjust, redirect, and even change the settings to make them more spot-focused. I can pretty much get a light anywhere I need to. And if I’m still not satisfied, they actually make lights which I can place on my head.

Now, everyday is not perfect. There will be days where one of the operating room lights doesn’t work. There will be days where my telescopic lens may be cracked and will not work. When that happens, we try to figure out a solution pretty fast, because I can’t do the best surgery and I can’t have the best outcomes if I can’t see. As a surgeon, I’m completely dependent on the light.

In my 40 years of life, I have celebrated Diwali in many different ways. We’ve all heard the phrases that Diwali is the conquest of good over evil, light over darkness, and knowledge over ignorance. I have heard the same words a million times, and I get it, Diwali is all about that positive energy force.

This year, I was offered a slightly different perspective. I was prompted to think about the meaning of Diwali, or the meaning of Diva, the light. I was in the operating room this week, adjusting my light nonetheless, and someone asked me why I’m not going to be here on Friday. Well, naturally I told them it was Diwali. Her follow-up question was, “So what do you guys do during Diwali?” At this point, I had a realization that every single day in my career, I am basically doing what Diwali does for us, in a matter of a few days. Diwali shines a light on all the things that we need to focus on.

I gave my colleague the cursory explanation of the festival of lights, a festival that is celebrated by Hindus, Jains and Sikhs. I then went on to explain that Diwali is actually just one day, but it’s celebrated slightly differently by different faiths. Most of us spread out the celebration over several days where each day has its own significance. Though each significance or purpose may be different, what we’re trying to accomplish in that time is pretty much the same. We’re trying to come together with ourselves, our families, and our communities. We’re coming together as different faiths, diverse populations, and ethnicities because the purpose of Diwali at its core, I feel, is essentially getting us to shine a brighter light in this world. We essentially see the soul or the light. So my light communicates with your light.

Getting back to my theory about the light, as a surgeon, I can’t do anything without that light. It gets me to see places I can’t see at all. The light gets me to preserve life. It allows me to work, have a profession, and have financial stability. The light allows my patient to have another day without cancer, if it’s cancer that I’m removing. That light is vital to survival for us in the operating room, and in the same way, that light that we light, or that light that we reflect on, is essential for everyday life.

Focusing on that light can help get you through various situations. When you’re in your deepest, darkest times, that light, with just a little adjustment, can help you find your way. That light when you’re in a fight and angry at someone, will help you find the bright spot in your conversation or within that individual. In fact, it will help you find the bright spot within yourself, and help bring it out. And that light will guide you to forgive and forget.

However, what about those instances where the light doesn’t work or something is broken? There’s always a replacement bulb, a different cord, or even a different operating room I can go into. It’s the same way in life. If you’ve lost your light, the best thing that you can do is find someone that will help you get back on the path to your journey. And this is why it’s essential to communicate your thoughts and your feelings. It’s essential, not just to have family, friends and colleagues you can confide in, but it’s essential to always have someone that you can lean on and depend on. In the operating room, I lean on my surgical technician, the circulating nurse, and the anesthesiologist. When I am in trouble or seem nervous, my team helps lift me up. At home, I lean on my wife and my three daughters. If they see that I’m upset, down, angry, or just that my mind is wandering, they will support me and help me open up to get past what’s bothering me.

So, yes, Diwali is the festival of lights, full of color from rangolis, full of savory and sugary sweets and treats, and full of activities that bring us closer as families, friends, colleagues, and communities. But at the end of the day, Diwali is really about you. You and your light. And finding ways to not just focus that light, but also to ensure that your light shines bright to guide you as well as those around you.

Happy Diwali

Dr. Jamin Brahmbhatt, Orlando, Florida
Urologist