When headlines scream of doctors pulling out 29 spoons, 19 toothbrushes, and two pens from the stomach of a man in Uttar Pradesh, our first reaction is disbelief. We shake our heads, laugh nervously, and scroll to the next story. But behind such shocking news lies a serious medical and psychiatric reality that deserves our full attention. Swallowing foreign bodies is not a circus act; it is a disease — one that endangers lives, confuses families, and exposes a deeper crisis in how we view mental health.
I recall vividly my own medical experience from Medina, when I removed a hairball the size of a small football from the stomach of a young girl. That mass, a trichobezoar, had been silently growing inside her for months, formed by strands of hair she compulsively swallowed day after day. In another case, a young boy repeatedly ingested blades, putting himself at the brink of death each time. For an outsider, such stories sound like curiosities. For a clinician, they are painful reminders of how neglected psychiatric disorders can manifest in the most dangerous ways.
The medical term for such masses is “bezoar.” Derived from a Persian word meaning antidote, bezoars are indigestible collections that accumulate in the stomach or intestines. They may be made of hair (trichobezoars), vegetable fibers (phytobezoars), or foreign objects like spoons, toothbrushes, or blades. Sometimes they grow so large that they block the intestines, a condition known as Rapunzel syndrome when a hairball extends far down the digestive tract. They are not only physical obstructions but symptoms of hidden psychological pain.
In psychiatry, there is also a broader condition called pica, where individuals compulsively eat non-food items: soil, chalk, paper, metal, or hair. While children may do this out of curiosity, in adults it usually reflects underlying psychiatric illness such as obsessive-compulsive disorder, schizophrenia, depression, or intellectual disability. In some cases, it is an act of self-harm, in others a way of seeking attention, and at times it is simply an uncontrollable compulsion.
The tragedy is not limited to the medical theatre. Families often notice something is wrong but dismiss it as a “bad habit.” In our part of the world, mental illness still carries a heavy stigma. Parents hesitate to take their children to psychiatrists because of what neighbors or relatives might say. A girl chewing and swallowing hair may be scolded, ridiculed, or ignored until her stomach bulges with a solid mass. A boy who swallows sharp objects is seen as reckless rather than sick. By the time such cases reach hospitals, the damage is already severe: intestinal obstruction, perforation, sepsis, and sometimes death.
The UP case is not the first and will not be the last. In medical literature, there are countless reports of individuals who have ingested nails, batteries, coins, glass, even whole cutlery sets. Each case highlights not just the resilience of the human body but the fragility of the human mind. Doctors can remove foreign objects through endoscopy or surgery, but unless the underlying psychiatric illness is addressed, the cycle repeats. A spoon taken out today may be replaced by a toothbrush tomorrow.
The solution lies in a multidisciplinary approach. Gastroenterologists and surgeons may treat the immediate crisis, but psychiatrists, psychologists, and counselors must be part of the healing process. Families, too, need education and support to recognize the signs early. We must accept that swallowing foreign bodies is not simply an act of madness but a diagnosable, treatable condition. Like diabetes or hypertension, it requires timely medical attention and long-term management.
There is also a public health dimension. Awareness campaigns on mental health should not only focus on depression and anxiety but also on unusual behaviors like pica and foreign body ingestion. School-based mental health screening programs could identify children at risk before they land in operating theatres. Primary care doctors should be trained to ask the right questions and refer patients without delay. And above all, we as a society need to stop using derogatory terms like “pagal” to describe people with psychiatric disorders. Each such word adds another brick to the wall of silence and shame that prevents families from seeking help.
I often remind my colleagues that behind every bezoar lies a story of neglect. The hairball I removed from the young girl in Medina was not just a surgical specimen but a symbol of unaddressed anxiety, loneliness, and compulsion. The boy who swallowed blades was not just a reckless child but someone in desperate need of psychiatric care. The man in UP with 29 spoons was not a freak accident but a patient of a serious disorder. If we fail to see the human behind the headlines, we fail twice — once as doctors and once as a society.
In Kashmir too, we must prepare ourselves. As competition, stress, and social pressures increase, more young people may develop hidden psychiatric conditions that manifest in unusual ways. Substance abuse, self-harm, depression, and compulsive behaviors are already rising. Ignoring them until they erupt into medical emergencies is a mistake we cannot afford. Our hospitals must be equipped not just with operating theatres but also with mental health services. Families must feel safe to bring their loved ones for psychiatric evaluation without fear of stigma.
The shocking truth is that swallowing foreign objects is not a spectacle; it is a cry for help. Each spoon, toothbrush, or hair strand ingested is a silent testimony to untreated illness. We can continue to laugh at the headlines, or we can take them as wake-up calls. The choice is ours.
As someone who has seen these cases up close, I urge policymakers, doctors, and families alike: treat foreign body ingestion not as an oddity but as a disease. Recognize bezoars not only as surgical challenges but as psychiatric markers. And above all, treat patients with compassion. The football-sized hairball from a young girl’s stomach, the blades swallowed by a young boy, the spoons inside a man’s gut — they all remind us that the human mind, when unwell, can endanger the very body it inhabits. Healing must address both.
Only then will we move from shock to understanding, from ridicule to care, and from tragedy to hope.

Email:-------------------------drfiazfazili@gmail.com