Knowledge is Power

Dear The Editor (The Nation Newspaper),

The Christmas season is one, which should generate feelings of happiness, hopefulness and good will, sentiments that should spill over into the New Year. However, I have carried with me pent up anger since the month of October, 2005.
This rigid emotion inspired something in me to speak out against the injustice, the pain and the suffering I was exposed to and which I felt pulsating through every victim that was left to linger into the wee hours of the morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital waiting room.
I am a long-time sufferer of asthma and always instinctively aware of people who are suffering from the respiratory disease and people not necessarily suffering from this chronic ailment but who are visitors to the world in which I have to live in everyday.
One plagued with inhalers, shortness of breath and fear that at any moment you may faint from much physical exertion.
At 2:27 a.m. in the morning, my instincts were functioning in high gear as I awoke to see my best friend clutching her chest and gasping for air. She is not an asthmatic but I was all too aware of the signs before me; she was having a respiratory attack! I accompanied her on the scary, nerve-wracking ride from St. Thomas to the Queen Elizabeth hospital in St. Michael. I was terribly afraid that should she lose her fight to get air into her body, the car would lose control we would suffer serious car injuries.
Luckily, or worse yet, fate altered our course. As soon as she parked her car, she literally collapsed in to my arms and I dragged my helpless bundle into the waiting room of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital.
On entering, assuming that people suffering with respiratory problems could rush to the asthma bay untroubled we rushed through the doors, in search of a doctor who could give relief to my friend. We sat in the empty asthma bay for a few minutes before a doctor came and inquired about her problem. Within a couple seconds, I escorted her outside the asthma bay to the waiting room because my friend was not a diagnosed asthmatic and couldn’t use the nebulizer (treatment available to all asthma sufferers who are experiencing full on attacks) until given the medical okay.
My friend and I lingered in the waiting room for the better part of two hours,
before she was given a signal to step into a small room to a rude, inhospitable and seemingly uncaring person who was dressed in uniform a nurse should wear.
I was forced to assume that she checked my friend thoroughly which to this day I cannot be assured; all I know is that I proceeded to wait with my friend for approximately three more hours.
I passed the time in conversation with a young woman whose boyfriend had been stabbed at a bus stop and who had only received medical attention approximately 7 hours prior to her entrance to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital at approximately 8:00 p.m! Unfortunately, my friend was unable to talk as a limited amount of air was getting into her lungs and her main focus was to keep calm in a situation that make even the calmest person go mad with anticipation.
After, much begging and pleading, a young doctor encouraged by the security guard on duty allowed my friend and I to enter the hospital and recline on an empty bed at approximately 7:12 a.m. He assured us that he would return as soon as he dealt with another patient; he never did.
During the time, of the wait, I had time to survey the expanse of the hospital and marvel at the number of empty beds available and the numbers of doctors that lingered in the main office right next to the asthma bay, which was adjacent to the room in which my friend lay down, helpless.
At 7:55 a.m., my friend told me that she needed to get medical attention and that she was not leaving the area until she received some. In between the time we had made the decision to leave the hospital I was so scared for her that I proceeded to ask any doctor that passed whether she / he could just take a look. They all said they would come back; they never did.
This time I drove my friend to the F.M.H. and was lucky enough to make it in time for the arrival of the doctor on call at 8:00 a.m. We were taken care of in 5 minutes!!!! My friend was diagnosed as having premature symptoms of asthma after an examination under x-rays. A fine case of money doing the talking. If the Queen Elizabeth Hospital wanted money I would have paid through my nose to make sure that my friend could be attended to.
This story could be chalked up to hearsay as I have taken pains to keep the identities of the staff members I encountered and people who I met during that awful night and the date, anonymous. The Q.E.H. staff should count their lucky stars that it’s the Christmas Season.

The government finances many of our people’s dreams to study overseas and locally to secure medical degrees or a strong medical background, for what? To sit around while people who they have sworn to aid, suffer in silence.
The answer is evident, people who have medical degrees or any strong medical background have earned the right to bask in the glow of their achievements without having sensitivity or compassion for others because they can.
However, I wish to extend a very Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year to the wonderful and always caring staff of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital and I do hope you continue your mode of exemplary service. Why? Because you can.
Anonymous