Nearly two years ago, when my clinic used to be open on Sunday mornings as well, a father brought his 10-year-old son with complaints of fever and cough. He was anxious and wanted urgent treatment. I took a careful history, examined the child and found no signs of bacterial infection or serious respiratory illness. I explained that antibiotics were not required, discussed the danger signs that, if they developed, might need immediate attention, and said that cough syrups were unlikely to help. Fluids, rest and observation were enough, and these were advised. I suggested that he call me and return the next day, or earlier if anything worsened.
The same evening, only hours later, the father felt that the child was “not recovering”. Partly unsatisfied that I had not agreed with his perception that the child was very sick and had not prescribed medicines, he took him to another facility. There, the child underwent a CT scan of the chest, which was used by the doctor to justify admission, although the family was not provided with a written report. He was given intravenous antibiotics and fluids. Understandably, the child recovered over the next few days.
A few days later, the father called me. He was polite but firm: “Doctor sahib, you had missed the diagnosis. The baby was very serious. He needed admission.”
I have remembered that conversation.
There is no doubt that doctors can miss diagnoses, and second opinions are useful when families remain worried or unconvinced. But this episode captures something increasingly common in healthcare: our discomfort with waiting, watching and allowing the body time to recover. We are living in the era of fast medicine.
Patients want rapid recovery, forgetting how healing from illness or metabolic conditions actually happens. They want quick investigations and “serious medicines”. They arrive with the urgency of “do whatever it takes”. Doctors, under pressure and fearful of missing disease, respond with tests, prescriptions, scans and referrals. A mild illness becomes a battery of investigations. A risk factor becomes a disease. A borderline value becomes a reason for a lifelong pill. A symptom lasting two days feels intolerable because we expect it to disappear by evening.
Yet biology rarely works at that speed. Many metabolic diseases develop slowly over years. Weight gain, insulin resistance, fatty liver, hypertension and declining fitness do not appear overnight. They emerge over time. It is unrealistic to expect reversal in days or weeks. Many self-limiting infections are similar: the body needs time, while good medicine supports, monitors and intervenes when warning signs appear.
This distinction matters when interpreting laboratory reports. Not every abnormal value represents a disease requiring immediate treatment. There is also a difference between deficiency and insufficiency. Vitamin D is a familiar example. A clearly deficient level may justify supplementation. A mildly insufficient level should not automatically trigger prolonged supplementation. It should prompt questions about sunlight exposure, diet, physical activity and overall health. Numbers need context.
The same principle applies to risk factors. High blood pressure, raised blood sugar, abnormal lipids and excess weight deserve attention because they predict future disease. But a risk factor is not always the same as established disease. Some people genuinely need medicines, sometimes urgently and for life. Others may benefit from weight loss, better food, exercise, improved sleep, reduced alcohol consumption, smoking cessation and stress management. Treating risk should not mean medicalising every risk factor before attempting to reverse the causes that produced it.
Fast medicine has recognisable features: investigations before conversation, prescriptions before explanation, specialist visits before primary-care assessment, intravenous lines when oral treatment would suffice, admission when observation may be enough, and testing without asking whether the result will change management.
Slow medicine looks different. It begins with a good general physician or family doctor. It values clinical history, family history and physical examination. It asks what has changed before ordering tests. It uses medicines when needed but combines them with advice on food, movement, sleep, stress and daily habits. It accepts that some decisions can wait, some illnesses can be observed, and some treatments can be reduced rather than added.
Slow medicine does not mean delayed medicine. It does not mean ignoring red flags, refusing scans, avoiding specialists or romanticising lifestyle when a patient needs urgent treatment. A heart attack needs speed. Sepsis needs speed. Stroke needs speed. Severe asthma, meningitis and trauma demand immediate action. The point is not that all medicine should be slow. The point is that not every medical problem is an emergency. Nor does every risk require medication.
Slow medicine matters because healthcare rests on trust. Parents understandably fear the worst when a child is ill, and adults are increasingly anxious about future disease. A scan, injection or admission can feel reassuring because something visible is being done. But doing more is not always doing better. Sometimes observation, explanation and follow-up can be more thoughtful than immediate intervention.
Much of the most important medicine happens outside clinics and hospitals: how we eat, move, sleep, work, connect with others and manage stress. No prescription can fully compensate for years of inactivity, poor sleep, smoking or chronic stress. Nor can supplements substitute for sunlight, nutritious food or movement.
For an ordinary person, choosing slow medicine means asking simple questions. Do I need this test now? Will the result change treatment? Is this medicine treating a disease, a risk factor or merely a number? Can lifestyle changes reasonably be tried first? Do I need a specialist immediately, or should I begin with a trusted general physician? What warning signs should make me return sooner?
Medical science needs innovation, better diagnostics and effective treatments. But we do not need speed for its own sake. We need the wisdom to know when medicine must move fast and when health improves through patience, observation and sustained change. We need advances in medicine. What we need less of is fast medicine. What we need more of is slow medicine.
Dr Lahariya is a practicing specialist in preventive medicine and cardiometabolic health. He is the author of the book Pill-Free: You Don’t Need Everything You Have Been Prescribed.
Disclaimer : This story is auto aggregated by a computer programme and has not been created or edited by DOWNTHENEWS. Publisher: deccanchronicle.com
