Life has very questionably weird ways of getting you to appreciate what you have. That realisation struck me when I least expected it. I didn’t expect to be thankful for what i had in a hospital, cos mostly what i feel there is anger and anxiety. I walked into Stanley hospital, Madras today with the same sinking feeling in my stomach that i experience everytime i enter the place that houses my worst fears.
The corridors had a deserted, deathly feel about them. The walls were chipped and i couldn’t really tell what color they might’ve been when there still was some light seeping in through the disfigured pattern in the wall. Room 405 housed the cardiology department. The board outside indicated that there were 19 patients in the general ward. I tightly clutched my mother’s hand and refused to enter. I saw 3 people with IV lines strapped to their hands, sitting on the floor and eating out of the same packet of rice. Even that rice seemed to be drained of any color. Few other patients were lying down in a corner that had a haggard looking man in an extremely dirty white coat noting down someone’s BP. A nurse was sitting next to him flipping through some files. A little boy was standing next to her shirtless and peering over her shoulder. He also had an IV strapped in addition to a heavy bandage on his bony chest. Another patient was lying down on one of the row cots that had a green sheet covering it. The sheet seemed uncared for and almost cursed. The green was just desperately clinging on to the sheet as if for mere presence. Just then, i saw a dog sleeping on the floor next to his wife and i knew it was not the sheet that was cursed. At that instance, I couldn’t stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. When i realised i had to walk in through the same ward, the tears intensified. My legs refused to move. I was so shocked to see a man treated this badly that the only reaction i could manage was tears. For a minute, i imagined myself lying on that same bed, lying next to a dog on the floor and I knew how lucky i really was.
When i went out in to the yard cos i just couldn’t look into the ward any more, i saw surgical masks, blood containers, stained cotton pads and used syringes strewn about everywhere. I couldn’t stop crying! These are human lives and they deserve to be treated with more respect. What ailing people need more than anything is care. Roaming about in their lungis and having to go out to buy their own food didn’t seem like care to me. More than anything, the infection spread by these improperly disposed medical waste made my skin crawl. I was this close to throwing up. I assure you none of it had to do with prude behaviour.
There were doctors and nurses standing about and chatting the same yard, oblivious. Or maybe, they were also just trying to survive. I couldn’t imagine going back there everyday, let alone fend for my living there. We have our health minister talking about on screen smoking and stars consuming alcohol. Can we please take a moment to prioritize here? What about these people who’re stuck here in such conditions for pure monetary reasons? These people deserve our time, money and respect too! I’m too shocked and tongue tied to even swear. Set aside fame, limelight, votes, power, post, and all that crap, please just look this as a human being. Would you ever want your children to set foot here? It might be cowardly to stand in front of a hospital and cry. But, I just slumped down in resignation!
Ps: the break still holds but i had to get this outta my system
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