I am not a person who takes delight in visiting hospitals maybe because I don’t fall sick often or there is a dislike going to the hospital for anything. Is it the unpleasant stench of drugs oozing out and other unbearable factors which are not welcome by me, invariably I detest being within the hospital premises.
But fortunately and irreversibly for me, I found myself contravening this *simple principle of mine*, not as a visitor but as a co-patient who is saddled with responsibility of being by the bedside to help my 94-year-old grandpa who needs urgent medical attention..
Right from the main entrance of the Ogun State owned General Hospital, Ijaiye, Abeokuta, a non-visible factor triggered a resurgence of my fear and dislikes for the environment, but do I have a choice?
I went straight to the Doctor on call at the Emergency Treatment Room (ETR), a woman and her approach after a very long *vacation* of any visitation to any hospital tuned me off. I got furious, I fumed, shouted, felt like boxing her but for my old man who is gasping for breath in my car and needed urgent medical attention.
To my disdain all she could say at this material time was for me to calm down and if I can’t, I should move the old man to the Federal Medical Centre. This got me infuriated and later gathered that the slogan for impatient people like me is *If you can’t wait, you can try FMC*.
At this point my nerves have gone up and possibly if checked my BP would have been singing a different tune occasioned by the uncomplimentary remarks of the medical officer which led me into a few minutes of madness. As it dawned on me of the task ahead, I tried all phone lines of those I know can help out and get the due attention deserved by my aged old man but to my dismay none picked the *supposedly influence seeking calls*. This got me further infuriated.
With all humans help not forthcoming a test of my faith was the last resort and it was time for me to hold on to Almighty Allah’s intervention to wade in. It was at this moment that I got a call from the medical team that it was the turn of my *pain ridden grandpa* to get medical attention.
However, I was still not happy with the initial remarks hence I was on the look for an opportunity to get back at the team ably led by a qualified Medical Doctor to know that a wrong person has just been offended.
The curtains then fall on the day and I had to spend the first night in an unfriendly environment. This time there has been a change of baton from afternoon to night shift, so we had new set people around and I quickly warmed my way into their hearts so that my grandpa could get a better treatment.
The *Emergency Unit*” as the name suggests is believed to be the first port of call for the sick who needs treatment, and by extension first aid that will stabilise inflow of patients.
The first day was like a market day, between the hours of 12am and 4am, 12 patients were brought in, some with malaria, some accident victims and so many others with ailments undescribable but with few hands of medical experts on call and I wondered how can everybody be attended to.
Three Doctors on call but one and a half at sight, two nurses but one could be seen doing the job, few beds and many patients. I changed my thoughts towards them on the first night of admission when I noticed that the pressure is much.
Then my second night at my grandpa’s bedside and nothing changes, same way, same approach, some patients have lost their lives through their attitude at times while so many never prayed to come again.
I noticed if you don’t know someone who knows someone, even with your little cash, you might not get the attention you needed. I am still here and taking notes of happenings and hoping things will change for the better.
No blames for the government as it tries all possible best at any point in time power. I couldn’t either blame the medical experts too as they also try to do their best the way they think they can do it but regrettably overwhelmed.
What we only need is prayers for all, Nigeria and the world over
Emergency Unit of Hospitals is not a place of merriment; it is a serious place where a fight over life happens between the medical experts and the relatives of patients.
I will be right back to write about the thoughts and terms learnt at the confine of the small room called Emergency Unit but there is one I can’t wait to disclose ‘Brought in Dead’
Bunmi Adigun is journalist who wrote this from Abeokuta, Ogun State Capital