Our Verified Medical Experts — page 31

I am an ENT surgeon—officially Otolaryngologist, but yeah that’s a mouthful sometimes. I did my MS in ENT, which was intense and a bit humbling too honestly. After that I went ahead with DNB in ENT, which kinda helped me refine everything I thought I already knew. Later, I completed MNAMS too. Each step felt like adding another layer to what I could offer patients. Right now, I’m based in Kerala and working here—it’s where most of my clinical practice happens these days. I deal with all things ear, nose, and throat—routine and not-so-routine. From chronic sinusitis and hearing loss to vocal cord stuff and ear surgeries, there’s a lot going on in this field that people usually don’t realise till something starts bothering them. I’m used to balancing OPD cases, emergencies, procedures—some days are calm and others go sideways real quick, but that’s part of the deal, right? My approach isn’t robotic. Like, I really believe in listening before treating. ENT symptoms can be tricky—like a small problem in one part can affect everything else, so you can’t always jump to conclusions just by looking at the reports. And sometimes you just gotta take a moment, step back, and rethink your plan if something doesn't add up. Not every case goes by textbook, not every patient reacts the same. Honestly, I’m still learning—ENT’s one of those fields where something new keeps showing up. I try to stay updated when I can, squeeze in some journal reading between surgeries or in the late hours. But at the core of it, I just want patients to feel seen, treated well, and to leave with more relief than worry. I don’t claim to have all the answers every time, but I do put in the work till we figure it out.

I am Dr. Hitesh Garg, an orthopedic surgeon working out of Noida, and honestly, for me it's all about helping people get back to doing the stuff they miss—walking pain-free, climbing stairs without thinking twice, even just sitting cross-legged without wincing. My main focus is joint replacement surgeries—knee replacements and hip replacements mostly—but I also work a lot with trauma cases, sports injuries, and arthroscopy. You know, those ACL tears or meniscus injuries that just don’t let athletes feel like themselves again... yeah, that’s where I try to step in. I’ve seen how joint pain can eat into someone’s daily life—slowly, silently. People try to adjust, they ignore it, or push through until it’s kinda unbearable. My job isn’t just about fixing bones and joints, it’s also about giving folks back that feeling of control. Whether it's an elderly patient who wants to walk in the park again or a younger guy with ligament issues who’s desperate to return to the field—I tailor my approach to what they actually need. My surgeries are backed by latest evidence-based protocols, but I always keep it personal. I'm not the kind of doc who rushes through OPD—each case is unique and I prefer to walk people through the whats and whys. Sometimes that means repeating myself a few times, or sitting through nervous questions from family, but I think that’s part of the healing too. And ya, arthroscopy’s something I genuinely enjoy doing. Less invasive, faster recovery—it’s a great tool in the right hands and I try to keep my skills updated with that. Same with trauma care—there's a different kind of intensity there, but when done right, it can literally change the outcome of someone's life in a few hours. Currently practicing in Noida, my work mostly revolves around people dealing with chronic knee pain, joint degeneration, post-injury rehab or those looking at full replacements. If you're stuck in that place where the pain won't let go and nothing else worked, maybe we talk, see what's next.

I am Dr. Raj Prajapati & I’ve been running Raj Dental Clinic in Manjalpur, Vadodara since 2019. I started this space to kinda break that whole fear vibe around dental chairs—you know what I mean? Most people come in tensed up, expecting pain or long recovery or just... confusion. My focus right from day one was clear: make treatments as painless, quick, and straight-up easy to understand as possible. My work revolves a lot around painless RCT (root canal treatment), dental implants for missing teeth, cosmetic dentistry, and clear aligners for those not-so-crazy-about-metal-braces types. Honestly, I like mixing precision with simplicity—don’t wanna overdo or underdo anything. Just give people the smile they actually feel like smiling with. People come to us looking for invisible braces or full mouth work or even something basic, and I try to explain stuff in plain talk, not with those heavy textbook terms that only scare patients more. At our clinic, we keep it friendly, not like one of those super glossy, cold setups. And yeah, affordability matters too, right? Treatments are kept reasonable, like actually doable for normal folks, not just for high-end crowd. We do offer full-range dental services, from basic fillings and clean-ups to advanced things like implants and esthetic work. Not saying I’m perfect—sometimes cases go off-script or need more sittings than usual—but that’s how real treatment is, messy at times but gets there. Also, I work hard to keep my methods updated, like if there’s a new thing in aligners or implant tech, I try it, test it, and see if it actually helps before jumping into it fully. At the end, all that matters to me is that a patient walks out a lil more confident, lil less scared to smile. That’s all I want tbh. Oh and yeah—Raj Dental Clinic isn’t some big chain or corporate place. It’s small, local, hands-on. We’re here if your tooth hurts or you just wanna finally fix that crooked smile you’ve been hiding forever.

I am a consultant endoscopist and laparoscopic surgeon, mostly working with a mix of thyroid, breast, and abdominal cases—but honestly, my days hardly look the same. One moment it’s a gall bladder issue, next it’s a hernia or piles, or even something deeper like arterial blockage or a weird intestinal bleed that won’t show up in scans till you dig in with the scope. I do see a lot of patients with chronic fissure or fistula, and while many assume these are “simple” problems, they rarely are. Pain doesn’t always follow rules. Laparoscopic work’s where I feel most settled. Whether it's appendix removal, dealing with ulcers, or trauma from abdominal injuries—minimally invasive techniques let me do more with less, if that makes sense? Faster recovery, smaller scars, and often less fear in the patient’s eyes when I explain what we’ll do. Endoscopy helps too, like it gives me a window inside without rushing to cut. And when you’re managing conditions around pancreas or intestines, that kinda access really matters. Some of the vascular stuff—venous diseases or weird wound-healing cases—those I usually take a step back and rethink before jumping in. There’s no single playbook. You sorta learn that over time. It’s hard to explain all this in a single line—each condition I treat, whether it’s piles, hernia, or a stomach ulcer, carries its own story. I just try to stay alert, update my skills, and listen carefully—people don’t always say everything out loud, but their pain shows it. And yah, communication helps as much as a scalpel, probably more sometimes. Mistakes teach too, though no one talks about those much... but they sharpen you, for real.

I am working currently at Marudhar Hospital, Jaipur and before that I was with Shalby Hospital from Aug 2023 till 2025 as RMO—and honestly, that shift taught me a lot. At Shalby, I got to deal with all kinds of cases, some straightforward, others messy... trauma, pre-op, post-op, emergency stuff where you had no time to overthink, just act. That kind of pressure, day in day out, makes you either break or sharpen, and I’d like to think I leaned into the second. The learning curve was steep but it grounded me in real clinical decision-making, not just protocol-based textbook stuff. Now at Marudhar, it’s more of a different vibe—smaller teams, more direct responsibility. Here I feel more involved in both patient care *and* the bigger picture, like continuity between departments, follow-up care, seeing outcomes in longer loops. It’s less about just stabilizing and more about understanding the full arc of the patient journey. Not gonna lie, there’s days I miss the crazy pace of Shalby... but there’s something satisfying in the slower, layered experience too. Both roles helped me figure out what kind of doctor I’m trying to be—not just someone ticking off symptoms but someone actually noticing what’s missing, even in what’s said casually by patients. I’m still learning, still figuring things out, but yeah—these two hospitals shaped a big chunk of that path.

I am that girl doc next door you probly didn't expect to be an infertility specialist — but here I am, and I honestly love what I do (even on the messier days). Helping people navigate the emotional chaos, endless tests, and let’s be real — the silent heartbreak of infertility, is kinda what I’ve built my life around. My focus? Fertility. Reproductive health. Hormonal imbalances. PCOS. Unexplained infertility. Male factor issues too, which are often overlooked tbh. I’ve seen all shades of struggle, and no, I don’t judge. Never have. Never will. Whether you're just starting out, tried 5 rounds of IVF already, or just want to *finally* understand your own cycle, you're safe with me. I don’t talk down to patients or drown you in jargon — I explain things straight, like I’d want someone to explain them to my own sister. I believe the science *and* the soul both matter. There’s a lab side to this journey — AMH levels, follicle scans, luteal phase deficiencies — but there’s also the human side, like why no one told you how lonely this would feel or how much waiting you’d have to do. We talk about all of that here. The numbers, but also the feelings. Sometimes it's not a diagnosis that needs fixing first — it's the weight of expectations. I’m not the kind of doctor who rushes. I sit with my patients, sometimes longer than I should. Listen. Sometimes you just need space to breathe, vent or ask that “silly” question you’ve googled 4 times already. (ps: it's never silly) If you're looking for someone hyper polished or strictly textbook, that’s not quite me. I’m serious about medicine, but not too serious to be real with you. My clinic's got charts on the walls but also tissues and tea for when days are hard. Sometimes we celebrate follicle growth. Sometimes we grieve losses. And in all of it, I’m right there. This isn’t just my profession, it’s very much my purpose. You deserve to feel seen in your fertility story, not just scanned and scheduled. And if I can help even one person feel a little more hopeful, a bit less broken — well, then that’s a good day. Let’s figure it out. Together. Even if it's a little messy.

I am an oncologist who’s seen how a single diagnosis can flip life upside down — not just for the patient but for everyone around them. Cancer isn’t just a medical condition to me, it’s a deeply personal journey. I try not to treat just the disease — I treat the person carrying it. Whether it’s breast, lung, colon, blood-related or less common types, I’ve worked across many cancer types and no two cases ever feel the same. My approach? I focus on advanced cancer treatment protocols, backed by solid science but delivered in a way that’s still, I dunno, human. Immunotherapy, chemotherapy cycles, radiation planning, staging and biomarkers — yes, all of that matters. But also, do they understand what we’re doing today? Are they sleeping okay?? Did anyone explain that test clearly last time? These small things start adding up fast. I try to make sure that both patient and family aren't just informed but supported. There’s always so much medical lingo flying around, it’s easy to feel lost. And when the scan results don’t come back as hoped, it gets heavier. I try to be honest without being cold, optimistic without being fake. That balance is tricky. Some days, it still rattles me. Supportive care, pain management, nutritional guidance — these aren’t “extras” in my practice, they’re part of treatment. Whether someone’s just been diagnosed or they're going through their 3rd line of treatment, I want them to feel like they aren’t going thru this alone. Also, not everything is textbook. Some cases take weird turns. Responses vary. Emotions show up in unexpected ways. I think being open to all that — the unpredictablility — helps me stay grounded. You can't promise outcomes, but you can promise presence. At the end, I want people to remember that yes, we fought it together. Carefully, clearly and with compassion. Not as a doctor standing apart, but walking right beside.

I am currently working with Aarvy Healthcare in Sector 90 and have been here for about 1.5 years now — doesn’t sound like a lot, but honestly it’s been full of learning curves, challenges, and weirdly satisfying moments too. This place gave me the kind of real-time exposure no textbook really preps you for. From managing high patient flow days to helping families understand what’s *actually* going on with their loved ones — it’s made me sharper, faster and also way more patient. My daily work involves close coordination with seniors, nurses, and support staff — figuring out diagnostics, doing rounds, following up lab trends, adjusting meds and yeah sometimes even chasing reports that didn’t upload right! I’ve been involved in OPD and IPD settings both, and honestly that mix keeps you grounded. You see the full cycle — from first consult to discharge (or in some cases, longer stays that stay with you emotionally for a while.) It’s not just about giving the right drug or ordering one more scan. Sometimes it’s sitting with someone who’s scared out of their mind and just breaking down their report in plain language. Aarvy’s setup allowed me to do that more — because you’re not just another number here. I’ve worked on a mix of cases — fever panels to post-op care, pregnancy monitoring to cancer symptom support — which helped me slowly find my rhythm. Still figuring a lot out, tbh. But I know one thing: I show up, I care, and I don’t clock out mentally the minute my shift ends. That part matters. You can’t fake that. This phase of work has been real, messy, humbling and valuable — all at once.

I am a Senior Consultant Orthopaedic Surgeon with around 14 years in the game — long enough to see how bones break, heal, re-break sometimes, and what it really takes to put people back on their feet (and keep them there). My core areas are joint replacement surgeries — both primary and revision — and yeah, revision work can be real tricky, especially when previous implants have failed or bone loss complicates things. But that’s kinda where my brain kicks in hardest. I work a lot with sports injuries too. Ligament tears, meniscus issues, shoulder dislocations — young athletes with high expectations and limited patience make it challenging but also rewarding. You don’t just treat the injury; you treat their fear of missing out, their frustration, their urge to return too soon. Sometimes managing the mindset is half the treatment plan. Fracture management’s another part of my day-to-day, and not just simple wrist or ankle fractures. I’ve dealt with complex trauma cases — polytrauma, open fractures, those unpredictable ER moments where you don’t know what’s coming until you're knee-deep in a case. I try to be quick but methodical. Get stabilization first, then rebuild, step by step. It’s not always clean work, but it’s real. Each patient walks in with pain, but they also carry stories — of old injuries ignored, surgeries that didn’t quite work, fears of not walking right again. And as much as I operate, I also listen. Or I try to. Not every decision is surgical. Some need rehab. Some just need time. My job isn’t just to cut and fix. It’s to know *when* to cut and *when not to*. Ortho isn’t just bone and metal, at least not to me. It’s restoring movement, confidence, and a bit of dignity that pain usually takes away quietly. That’s what I’m really here for.

I am working in Paediatrics and Neonatology for the last 3 years — and honestly, every single day’s different. Some days I’m managing a full-blown asthma flare in a hyperactive 5-year-old who still refuses to sit still for a neb, and on others, I’m watching a preemie baby slowly gain weight gram by gram in the NICU. Both sides of this field are intense, but in very different ways. In neonatology, the smallest things matter — literally. I deal with newborns needing respiratory support, feeding assistance, thermoregulation issues, infections — the whole bundle. You can’t afford to miss tiny changes. One bad ABG, or a slightly off feeding pattern, and it shifts everything. I’ve learnt to pick up on those silent alarms, the kind you only get better at spotting with hands-on NICU time. On the paediatrics side, I see the wide range — fevers that won’t go down, delayed milestones, weird rashes parents googled 3 wrong things about, nutrition issues, coughs that sound scarier than they are. But also the regular checkups, vaccinations, and anxious first-time parents asking if their baby’s crying “too much or too little??” I try to balance clinical clarity with a little calm — for both the kid and the parent. What I love about this field is that you treat growing bodies — which means the goal isn’t just to “fix” a problem but to help the child reach their healthiest version long-term. It’s not always linear, and sometimes there’s setbacks. But when that NICU baby goes home without a tube, or the toddler you’ve seen for a year finally speaks their first sentence, that’s the stuff that stays with you. I work closely with nurses, nutritionists, and sometimes speech or occupational therapists too — especially in complex or high-risk cases. It’s always a team effort. But I stay closely involved, I don’t check out once the prescription’s written. Kids deserve continuity. Parents need that too. Three years in, and there’s still more to learn — but I’m here, showing up, one small patient at a time.