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Screensize: 640 x 480 800 x 600 1024 x 768 1280 x 1024 UserName: Password: Format Mode: Basic  Help  Prompt  Format: Videos: Font Andale Mono Arial Arial Black Book Antiqua Century Gothic Comic Sans MS Courier New Georgia Impact Lucida Console Script MT Bold Stencil Tahoma Times New Roman Trebuchet MS Verdana   Size 1 2 3 4 5 6   Color Black Red Yellow Pink Green Orange Purple Blue Beige Brown Teal Navy Maroon LimeGreen Message: * HTML is OFF * Forum Code is ON Smilies [quote][i]Originally posted by Momodou[/i] [br]25 minutes of distress [b][size=6]25:46.26[/size=6][/b] By Alieu Newton In my five years as a General Practitioner and four years as an Anesthesiologist, I have witnessed and participated in hundreds of CPRs on patients. However, the one I took part in five days ago was entirely different. It was completely different because the patient in front of me was my FATHER. My own father. Some might ask why I participated in such a CPR when I was emotionally involved. But rest assured, if you ask this question, it's because you might not have worked as a healthcare professional in The Gambia. At 1 PM, the old man's condition didn't look good. He needed higher-level management, either in an HDU or an ICU bed for a multidisciplinary approach. My efforts were unsuccessful because there is only one quasi-functional ICU in Jollof with a small bed capacity. I was unable to secure him a bed, knowing that with his condition, he wouldn't make it the next 24 hours without intervention. I was desperate. I made multiple calls, but there were no better options. As an MD, I totally knew what he was feeling. I sat on his wrecked hospital bed trying to comfort him while he whispered to me, "Why can't you give me more medications or bring your machine to check my body? I have generalized malaise." His pleas made me visit the bathroom very often just to wash my face to avoid my brothers noticing my tears. I wished I wasn't a doctor at that moment because I would have preferred not knowing what was happening, just like any close relative who was with him. A few hours after being unable to secure him an ICU bed, he had a cardiac arrest. We initiated the coding protocol, and after a few minutes, we had a ROSC (Return of Spontaneous Circulation). I requested the medication that might prevent him from having a second arrest, but it wasn't available. I requested the second option to that medication, but it wasn't available either. Then, as expected, a second wave of arrest came with a cardiac rhythm compatible with Ventricular Fibrillation. But guess what? No defibrillator was within reachable distance. This isn't a movie but reality. I didn't even intend to intubate because there was no effective device to connect him to. He succumbed to his condition, secondary to a failed healthcare system that has been in existence since independence. We could have done more for him, but he was unfortunate to find himself in a country that prioritizes everything except the health of its residents. As an escort, I didn't get the privilege of being told that they did everything possible to help rescue my dad because I was part of those doing the impossible. I'm not angry at the doctors or nurses because they feel the same as I do. They happen to work for a failed health system. May Allah forgive his shortcomings and grant him the highest of paradise. "Dohali yallah" they concluded [/quote]   Check here to include your profile signature.