Medicine has long been a noble profession. Once, doctors were figures of authority. Their advice respected, their judgement trusted and their long hours of training unquestioned. Fast forward to 2024 and practicing medicine sometimes feels like stepping onto the stage of “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” — where the points do not matter, the scripts are constantly rewritten and the patients often supply the punchlines.

Dr. Anand Sharma (name changed), my classmate and friend, knows this better than anyone. We graduated in a time when “internet” was a whispered curiosity and “search engine” was what you used to find your misplaced car keys under the bonnet.

Back then, patients believed their doctors. Now, I do not practice clinical medicine (thankfully) and Dr. Sharma often finds himself competing with the collective wisdom of WebMD, AI chatbots and the most obscure corners of the internet.

Take Mrs. Gopal, 78, a sprightly woman with a penchant for drama. She arrived at Dr. Sharma’s clinic last Tuesday, convinced she had contracted a rare Amazonian beetle infection. Her evidence was a particularly vibrant rash on her arm and a printout from a blog ominously titled “Are You Hosting the Amazon’s Tiniest Tenant?” She had already tried a concoction of oregano oil, activated charcoal and turmeric, recommended by a “natural health guru” whose medical qualifications seemed limited to an impressive collection of house plants.

“Mrs. Gopal,” Dr. Sharma began, his voice carefully calibrated from decades of practice, “while the Amazon rainforest is indeed fascinating, I believe we might be dealing with… poison ivy.”

But Mrs. Gopal’s eyes were glued to her printout. “But the blog said the beetles are invisible!” she protested. “And the itching is exactly as described — a ‘fiery dance of a thousand tiny legs!’”

After ten minutes, a magnifying glass and a sniff test that would make most people faint, Dr. Sharma finally convinced her that her only Amazonian tenant was a Prime delivery box waiting patiently at her doorstep.

Then there is the new breed of ‘modern’ patient — the self-diagnosing expert. Mr. Kumar, 30, strutted into Dr. Sharma’s office last month, armed with a weekend’s worth of AI consultation. According to “Professor GPT,” an AI that had apparently spent its digital infancy studying obscure medical journals, he had systemic sclerosis — a rare autoimmune disease affecting the skin.

“It is progressive,” he announced proudly, waving his phone. “Potential organ damage. I have started a ketogenic diet and am considering moving to a warmer climate.”

Dr. Sharma examined his toenails. Remarkably normal, aside from a slight yellowing — likely a combination of bad pedicures and ill-fitting shoes. Suppressing laughter, he suggested that Mr. Kumar’s condition might simply be a fungal infection.

The look of betrayal on Mr. Kumar’s face was priceless, as if my friend had just revealed that his beloved cat was a government surveillance device. “But Professor GPT was so sure!” he exclaimed, scrolling frantically.

“Professor GPT,” Dr. Sharma explained, “is articulate and clever, but it does not have a medical degree, x-ray vision or the ability to smell a good old-fashioned athlete’s foot. It does have a tendency to hallucinate — very eloquently.”

Then there was Mrs. Rao, who arrived with a fully planned treatment regimen prescribed by “Dr. Chatbot.” Her instructions included kale smoothies, interpretive dance and daily affirmations to “realign her energetic chakras.”

“And what exactly are your symptoms, Mrs. Rao?” Dr. Sharma asked, trying to maintain his professional composure as she demonstrated a particularly enthusiastic chakra-realignment move in the consultation room.

“Oh, just a general feeling of… disharmony,” she said mid-pirouette, “and my left big toe has been twitching.”

“And the dance has helped with the twitching toe?” he asked, pen poised over his notes.

“Not really,” she admitted. “But I feel more… aligned.”

Dr. Sharma’s days often follow a similar pattern; a mix of genuine medical challenges, human idiosyncrasies and the occasional AI-fuelled misadventure. Patients arrive convinced they are hosting Amazonian tenants, developing autoimmune disorders overnight or treating themselves according to advice from a machine that has never set foot in a clinic.

The challenge is not just diagnosing illness — it is navigating the digital noise. It is persuading a patient to let a doctor examine them before debating the merits of garlic enemas or turmeric wraps. It is the delicate balance of respecting a patient’s autonomy while gently pointing out that a runny nose is not a symptom of alien abduction.

The reality is that AI cannot replace the nuanced human understanding that Dr. Sharma brings to his practice. Algorithms cannot detect the fear hidden in a patient’s eyes, the subtle tremor in their voice or the faint whisper of a heart murmur. They cannot palpate a swollen lymph node, sense the early signs of infection or interpret the complex interplay of genetics, lifestyle and environment that shapes health.

Even with AI, the human touch remains indispensable. Dr. Sharma listens, empathises and deciphers the unspoken skills that no chatbot, however sophisticated, can replicate. Whether it is calming a frazzled patient, explaining why the Amazon beetle is a myth or gently breaking the news that their ketogenic diet will not cure a fungal infection, his expertise lies in human connection as much as medical knowledge.

And yet, there is humour in the chaos. Dr. Sharma sometimes sighs inwardly as a patient insists that their persistent cough is caused by “space fungus,” but he also smiles knowing that his role — sifting through misinformation, applying experience and offering calm guidance — has never been more essential. On particularly busy days, he might even joke that his primary prescription should be “unplug from the internet.”

In 2024, medicine is no longer just a battle against disease; it is a dance with technology, misinformation and human imagination. Doctors like Dr. Sharma navigate these challenges daily, providing care that combines knowledge, patience and humour. And while AI may dazzle with vocabulary and citation, it cannot replace the human heart, mind and touch at the core of healing.

So, as Dr. Sharma heads into yet another consultation — this time with a patient convinced of spontaneous human combustion — one can only wish him luck. In an era where everyone has an opinion, a search history and sometimes an AI assistant, the role of the doctor is as critical, complex and occasionally hilarious as ever.

[Dr. R. Balasubramaniam is the Founder of Swami Vivekananda Youth Movement. ‘The Lighter Side’ is a series of satirical articles meant to bring a smile by highlighting the funny side of everyday life.]