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Tali M Sashi Jamir
He was my friend's grandpa. He was old. He wasn't moving. I could see that he wasn't even conscious but he wasn't dead. Yes, he was still breathing (technically) and his heart was still beating. He was lying there on a hospital bed, with all those tubes fitted into his nose and mouth, (I don't know whatever those are called in medical terms). He was dying. Although he eventually had to give up his life, he lived for a few days, to meet his dear and near ones. That was what I witnessed in a hospital in Kohima few years back.
I know that most of the stroke patients don't survive or that, even if they do recover, there's always some kind of dysfunctional body parts (I heard so, but at least surviving is better than having none to answer "yes" when I call "Mom").
It was Sunday, the twelfth of January 2014, mother wanted to visit my aunt and her family. My elder brother and his wife accompanied her. I was supposed to go with them. I don't know why, but I didn't go. I stayed back at home.
I had plans to go to my friend's house that evening. It was getting dark but they weren't home. I was waiting for them. Just as I was about to go out, mom came home alone. I met her at the doorway, asked her for some money, took it and I left.
I returned home at around 10:00pm. She was in the sitting room. She opened the door. She told me that she wanted to watch a movie, so I switched on the television and connected the DVD player. Meanwhile I got busy on a phone call. After the call, I saw that mom had dozed off on the floor while watching the movie in the sitting room itself. I also lay down beside her. My sister, who was also sleeping beside us, woke me up only after a few minutes. By then mother had already vomited and everything was in a mess. We didn't know what actually happened to her or what to do. She always had hypertension problem, so we thought that could be that and that she would recover if we took care of her on time, but wait...there was blood in the vomit and that didn't seem normal. When we first found her, she was pointing at her shoulder and back, perhaps she wasn't totally unconscious by then! How we hoped and prayed that she would recover like she used to...but her condition was deteriorating instead. Helpless...we called our maternal uncle who lived right above our house. But what could he or we have done! We helplessly watched our mother fighting the ghastly battle on her own, breathing heavily now and then...Until that night, I never knew that breathing could also mean somebody leaving painfully... By then, we were already giving up all hopes for her recovery but never stopped praying, calling for a divine intervention...that never happened! Minute by minute, second by second, her breath was leaving her. Life was leaving her. Above all, our beloved mother was departing from us for good.
The hospital incident reminded me of my helpless mother who died just after a few hours fighting the same battle like the old man did. However, what differentiated their circumstances was that, unlike the old man and his hospital bed, my mother and we ourselves weren't fortunate enough to even lie her unconscious and almost beaten body down on a "decent" hospital bed or had an Emergency Doctor. Of course, she reached the CHC (Community Health Centre) but it was too late by then. To be precise, we found her unconscious at around 01:15am and took her to the CHC at around 6 or 7 in the morning (13th of January) and she left us all for good within few minutes. You already know why we couldn't take her there immediately. It was and is certain there would be no 'emergency doctor' in our CHC.
I'm not saying that she died because of not having a good hospital or the lack of an emergency doctor or that we could have changed the will or the plans of God. I am just saying that, when I saw the old man, I felt this sadness deep within me which I could never express in words...and I said to myself, "If only...we had the same facilities! We could have kept her breathing like him...even if it's just for a few days..." Yes, it was hard to believe that 'mom was here just yesterday but today she is not here with us anymore.' I even questioned God, "Whose God are you? Father, sister and now my mother?"
The CHC Mangkolemba, Sub-division Mangkolemba, under Mokokchung district, Nagaland, is a neglected health centre. Just recently, I was told that it was upgraded to a thirty-bedded hospital, which was previously a twenty-bedded centre. There should at least be 4/5 doctors, I was told. However, there is hardly one doctor (that's also an Ayurveda/Ayurvedic doctor). I believe that there should at least be an emergency doctor who can attend to patients during odd hours/emergency. The same is with nurses and medical attendants. Many of the so called regular staff have not seen even the CHC and many still are keeping substitutes. No wonder why the town could see an increased human population and vehicular traffic on 15th August/ Independence Day only! Is your Independence Day attendance more important than attending to a sick and dying patient? Don't you feel ashamed of yourself while drawing salary for doing nothing to save a life?
Doctors and nurses in particular and hospitals in general are looked upon by the people as God's messengers and saviours on earth. I don't want anybody else to go through/face the same fate as my mother and our family did. I would like to urge the competent authority to look into the matter as soon as possible and take appropriate actions against the absentee and the irresponsible doctor(s) and medical attendants.
Thanking you in anticipation.
The articles in this column are compiled by The Naga Blog administrators.
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