Restoring face value8217; 8212; A disabled doc8217;s mission

At the heart of Dicksheet8217;s mission is the human face which the plastic surgeon has wielded, along with a pair of scalpels, to secure a promising future for thousands of Indians by removing scars on their faces, for free, in a society where the premium is on face value8217;.

In over 30-odd years, Dicksheet has performed 46,000 free re-constructive operations each costing in the range of up to Rs25,000 in India. For this, he has unfailingly taken a six-month break every year from his lucrative practice in the US and spent lakhs of dollars from his own pocket. Of late, he has inspired a large number of dedicated people, including a team of American doctors to assist him in his noble endeavour. Many social organisations have also come forward to sponsor his camps.

Today, thousands of his beneficiaries take him to be their god. They religiously come to see him every year with their kin, making the visits to his camps a virtual pilgrimage. Adulations have come his way after a long and arduous mission he undertook in the face of acute personal sufferings. A mishap in 1978 rendered the right side of his body partially paralysed.

Within five years, cancer took away his vocal chords and with it a golden voice 8211; Dicksheet had passed his Sangeet Visharad at the age of 13. As if it was not enough, a massive heart attack in 1988, followed by another in 1994, lent a crippling blow. Doctors had given up onhim, but Dicksheet didn8217;t. He slowly learnt to speak and managed to breathe through his neck. And continued to defy a certain death. Because, Dicksheet is a man in a hurry he packs off for the US this year, where he must complete 5,000 surgeries.

After completing basic education at Wardha, Dicksheet did his MBBS at the Nagpur Medical College, before moving on to the US on a fellowship, in 1958. At the behest of his friends, Dicksheet held his first camp at Mumbai in 1968, under the auspices of the Lions Club. Since then, he continues to hold free surgical camps all over India, most of them in Maharashtra, treating patients for scars on the face, squints, cleft lips, cleft palates and droopy eyelids.

quot;A re-constructive surgery gives the patient a socially acceptable look and thus secures a better future for him,quot; says Dicksheet. Each passing year, the number of people benefitting from his surgeries increase manifold, becoming nearly unmanageable.

Most of Dicksheet8217;s camps are held in the vicinity ofAurangabad, a place which has a special importance for him. He must pray at the temple of Lord Ghrushneshwar, at the nearby Verul, which is his family deity. quot;Faith in God has been my inspiration as well as strength,quot; he says. With his heart working only to 18 per cent of its capacity and with all the other severe physical restrictions, he still manages a whopping 40 surgeries a day. In the recent past, he performed a record 91 operations at Jaipur.

quot;None of my patients has had any complications till date. Touch wood,quot; says the pious doctor. quot;Call it anything, I owe it all to the Almighty. It is because of Him that I can do it.quot; quot;We learnt about Dr Dicksheet from our friends at Aurangabad. So we requested him to come and he immediately agreed. He is so accessible,quot; says Govind Poddar, secretary of the Radhakrishna Hospital which is hosting the first free camp by Dicksheet at Nagpur.

Once back at his apartment in New York, the doctor helps himself for everything. He has a son and a daughter from hisfirst wife, an American, and a daughter from the second, an Indian. After being rendered handicapped, he allowed his second wife to become independent. quot;From washing clothes to preparing tea and food, I do everything myself,quot; he says. For the lone crusader, recognition has come at long last. But will the crowning glory come in the form of the coveted Nobel? quot;I don8217;t know. Last year, they said, I was the first runner-up. But I don8217;t crave for it anyway,quot; says Dicksheet.

If ever the Nobel comes, it will only be a fitting tribute to a man who has already performed the noblest possible deed.