Hospitals, When u mention the word, normally elicits a shiver from most folks. These days they are just a place where they milk u, your emotions, your energy on the promise that they treat you for your ailments. The integrity that was once there in the medical fraternity is not quite there.
My tryst with Nanavati Hospital began This June on the 28th late evening. My dad wasn’t feeling well.A little bit of everything wasgoing against him, and on the advice of his Diabetician/Physician, who was attached to the Hospital we admitted him to the Hospital. He was admitted to the 2nd class ICU. Thus began our agonising stay at Nanavati. On admission, soon my dad was hooked up to the machine, to monitor his heartbeats, BP etc which was erratic. I do certainly feel that part of this was because Dad hates hospitals and just wanted to be home. But then Doctors do have a way of putting fear into the hearts of the near ones. And so began his treatment.
Luckily ?? for me my dad was covered under the Paramount scheme, so I did not have to shell out a penny. But then it could also prove a curse, since Doctors go on experimenting. Thus it was that The Doctors decided that the first thing to be stabilised was the heart. Inspite of our regular pleadings for a nebuliser to be provided for dad, who was having broncho spasms, it was ignored. Then, since he had fallen down earlier during the day, an MRI was suggested. This showed some clots which were set aside as they were non important. And then began the merciless journey of drugs and more drugs. A drug would be prescribed, of which 2 would be administered, and then they would discard it for a new one. The earlier one was a waste then. My Dad was absolutely nonplussed out there, got disoriented quite often, but No, the Doc decided that he did not need a neurophysician/psychiatrist, insisting he knew what they would prescribe. And so continued the relentless tests wrt to the heart.
The only thing that we felt nice about was the absolute dedication of the Nurses in the ICU. They would be on their toes. And Helped us with dad whenever they could. The service staff was another matter. Imagine my horror one night, when I came in to find my dad’s hands tied up. He was able to pass urine comfortably in the pot. But because, he would do it often they, had tied a catheter, and tied my dad’s hands so the did not have to come often. The tying of hands was a nightmare.
Then one day it was announced that dad could be shifted to the wards. So for his comfort, I decided to move him to first class room. Imagine my dismay, when I was told that the hospital rules indicated that such a move would result in me having to shell out frst class rates from day one.Ridiculous! So I had to opt for a higher 2nd class room.I had to pay more there too.
Just when dad seemed to recover, he was readmitted to the ICU after a few days. There was another MRI done (without explanations). The Doctors now figured, perhaps it might be an issue of the brain. And so we had a neurosurgeon examine him. My dad was quite weak by then.The excessive drugs had taken their toll on his health. Still in that state of his health, the surgeon had the nerve to suggest Surgery. I nearly strangled him then. Is it just the money that counts?
Anyways, my dads health improved, and he was shifted to the ward. By then he was so weak, that they could not find any place to put in the intravenous needle. So one night, when mom was around, the Doc told mom to feed the intravenous orally. Two glass of saline plus the multivitamin injection. While the doc was there my dad managed to swallow a quart glass. When the doc left, the nurse threw the remaining liquid, saying that dad would start throwing up soon. And he did just that. It was after this, that my dad’s food intake went for a toss. After this he was afraid to eat/drink anything. My cousins were furious. Nobody apparently gives saline orally. But from that moment onwards that he refused to eat anything. Soon he had to be readmitted to the ICU. Here they tried putting the feedube, but it was rejected. My last memories of dad are seing him traumatised at the hospital, when he struggled against the insertion of the tubes. They stopped only after my cousin told them to put a stop. My cousins a Doc too, so they listened to him.
Finally, on Friday last, dad slipped into a coma. And left on Sunday 21st, a black day in our life.A man who WALKED to the hospital left on a stretcher. From Sat evening to Sun morning, My dad was the last of the four patients to leave for the heavenly abode.
The only good memory of the place that I left with, was a nurse, who was very nice to my dad, till he breathed his last. Her name is Elizabeth Joseph.
There is nary a thought for the next of kin of the patient. Often a patient is kept on Life support for months just on hope, when actually there is none. Nobody dares remove their kin from it, afraid of the guilt that might follow them, and so with the help of drugs like adrenaline, the BP is maintained.Andthe milking of funds goes on. The breathing is regular, since it is done by the machine. But no one is told this. In a futile situation, the kin is not advised that the situation would be the same at home. Atleast the kin would have the patient at home. My grief is that in his last few days, my dad had no idea of his whereabouts, his kin.He just suffered..
Just Keep good health friends, and make an intent that none of this happens to you and your kin.Cause The Hospitals are a place where your emotions are preyed upon to just loot you not just off money but your dear ones as well.
I came online just to write this review, after my pain. I will now see you only after a longtime.Cause its gonna take some time to wash away the pain.