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"What I thought will be a nightmare happened to be a life saviour," Baishali Chakraborty on SMCH's COVID Care

On August 20, I, my father and my uncle tested positive for COVID19 and co-incidentally, my mother didn’t have the infection though we all stayed at the same house. Initially, we thought, I will stay at home in one room with my mother in another while my father and uncle get treated at a healthcare facility. Both my father and uncle are senior citizens and they had moderate symptoms.

However, I stay in the quarters of a tea-estate and the management refused to give a non-objection to home isolation. So, “all my bags are packed and I am ready to go.” A goodbye kiss to my mother is also not allowed. We were initially told that we will be transferred to a facility in our Kalain circle. The ambulance also reached, but by then, my cousin-brother called and said, since there are two senior citizens who are symptomatic, we must go to Silchar Medical College and Hospital. Accordingly, we let the ambulance go and started waiting for a new one to arrive.

In this period, the hell broke in my mind. Silchar Medical College and Hospital? I asked myself. Looking back, I realised that the treatment wasn’t there in my wildest imagination. The dirty rooms, unhygienic and filthy washrooms, horrible food, careless doctors and nurses who don’t even attend to patients, that is all we have been reading about SMCH and now I will have to stay there. It was a nightmare and deep inside, I was questioning the decision, regretting the fact that we let the earlier ambulance go.

I was diagnosed with a disease that has disrupted the world. This is the virus that has killed more than 66 thousand lives in India leaving more than 30 lakh infected. Yet, I was not even thinking about treatment, wasn’t fearing the incubation going inside me that could influence a dysfunction. All that I was bothered about is my stay at SMCH with my old yet active, father and uncle.

My brother made a few calls and the ambulance reached. We boarded and ended up somewhere in Borkhola. The ambulance driver did not know we had to go to SMCH. I was happy, we reached somewhere which isn’t the Silchar Medical College and Hospital where I never even did spend an hour in my 24 years of life. But then few more calls were made and the ambulance took ‘U’ turn and we reached SMCH.

The first impression – two dead bodies packed and sealed, left alone right where we were asked to wait. There was no place to sit and there are plenty of people who came before us and are still waiting. In my mind, I was thinking there is no chance this could be heaven it’s only hell. We remained standing for more than an hour and then found a place to sit. An hour more, a blood test, an X-ray, and we got to our bed. We were late, so they gave us one pack of dinner instead of three. However, a few moments later, another lady came in and left a tetra-pack of lassi and juice. All three of us were tired at the end of the day.

My father’s condition deteriorated the next morning, his temperature rose and oxygen saturation levels dropped. The ward we were put up is a little far from the action, (later I realised that’s why it is called an isolation ward) I had to run around to find a nurse or a doctor. The first two days were rough, I failed to understand who is a doctor and who is a nurse as they all looked similar in their PPEs. My father was prescribed Remdesivir and Convalescent Plasma Therapy. The antiviral was administered by the doctors and we did not have to buy them. The same was done to the patients in the nearby beds. My father’s oxygen saturation levels improved, his vomiting stopped and the fever started subsiding.

This is when I started contemplating all that I read on news publications and social media. The sad stories of people dying unattended and as I was in my thoughts, I saw a nurse trying to find the right spot on the father’s hand to push in the needle. Sweat rolling down cheekbones made me wonder if it is worth cribbing about the niceties.

A doctor walked in and said, “We have got a plasma donor,” it was music to my ear. The plasma therapy took place and my father was on his road to recovery. But one night, I started feeling unwell. Within minutes, my body was getting cold, I was running short of breath. My father called for doctors who often confused me to be an attendant and not a patient (Yes, SMCH allows attendants inside the COVID ward). They started running around and consulted with specialists over the phone, performed an ECG, and told me it was an episode of an anxiety attack. They themselves visited the ward to keep a tab on my health that night and the morning after.

Doctors in SMCH do not touch patients during an emergency is something we have all read in the last few months. Maybe, I turned out to be a lucky one or there is a possibility that those were one-offs and unfortunate incidents. But the way those were magnified and written about, again and again, the exceptions became the norm and started shaping perception.

Here I would like to mention another thing – food. While I, my father and uncle were at SMCH, my maternal uncle who also tested positive was being treated at a private facility. All four of us had a similar treatment, his bill was worth Rs 1.8 lakh and the only money we had to spend was on a kettle that I requested someone to buy me as my father needed hot water. Since a lot has been said about the food, let’s burp. Here is a comparison of the food that my maternal uncle got in the private facility and we got at SMCH. Same-day for lunch.

There is a saying, in Sylheti, “Thelar Naam Babaji,” a refined English alternative would be, adversity is the mother of invention. We formed a group of family members and relatives on WhatsApp, stayed in touch with each other over video calls which kept ourselves busy throughout the days. Swami Vivekananda said, “Everything is easy when you are busy. Nothing is easy when you are lazy.”

A little effort from us in the form of cooperation, some initiative to keep the place clean, and most importantly, a little contribution in the form of patience can make a lot of change. At least for me, it was a big learning experience. No one likes hospitals, it is not a place where you would visit unless it is a medical emergency. But I don’t fear it anymore nor do I consider it to be hell. I will return to the hospital to donate plasma, this way, I will be able to help someone recover from COVID.

I was discharged on August 29, I am home and doing well. As I recollected my thoughts to share my experience, it suffices to say, Silchar Medical College and Hospital, what I thought will be a nightmare happened to be a life saviour.

The author of this article is a student of Karimganj College and a resident of Cachar district. The views expressed in this article are her personal. 

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