An Open Letter to the Health Minister
Respected Madam,Of late, I suffered a serious health issue that compelled me to visit a hospital. Acute Urinary Retention almost felt as though it would implode my internal organs. Before any treatment could. . .
Respected Madam,Of late, I suffered a serious health issue that compelled me to visit a hospital. Acute Urinary Retention almost felt as though it would implode my internal organs. Before any treatment could be administered, I discovered that the sub-district Hospital Sopore had no operational USG facility after twilight. It astonished me. I felt as though death hung heavily on my chest. I found myself unable to refrain from expressing disdain for the 21st century and feeling sympathy for the residents of Sopore. I desperately needed to know what I was suffering from: a stone blocking the passage, severe inflammation setting my bladder on fire, a urinary tract infection sending chills down my spine, or something else entirely different. Unfortunately, I couldn’t confirm the cause. I also refused to undergo more of an invasive treatment in the form of catheterization without first knowing what was wrong. Leaving the hospital in despair, I rushed to GMC Baramulla. En route, my whole body shivered; my abdomen felt like an inflated moon. I genuinely feared I would not survive; my kidneys felt as though they would burst. The half-hour journey between Sopore and Baramulla seemed endless. I held on to myself, squeezed my hands, shifted constantly in my seat, moved my legs, and writhed in pain. Time wore on, and eventually I reached the hospital. I heaved a sigh of relief and quickly rushed to the emergency wing of the hospital. I underwent the necessary USG examination and received injections and finally went to the washroom to relieve myself. What I encountered barely 50 meters from the washroom, however, only exacerbated my already fragile condition. It felt as though the hospital had become a dumping ground where human waste was constantly accumulating and circulating. What a stench besieged the emergency block and the staircase leading to the wards! What waste littered the floors! What an unbearable odour greeted anyone approaching the washroom! No functional locks. No properly maintained washrooms. Broken taps. Missing jugs. On the ground floor, only two washrooms designated for males appeared to serve emergency patients. Just imagine. As I had to visit the washroom repeatedly to check whether I could urinate normally, I began to pity myself. I wished I had died. I wished I had visited a landfill instead, for it might not have emitted the kind of smell those washrooms did. The stench affected me so severely that I threw up nearly ten times. Believe me, I had to throw up into an unusually dirty dustbin because there was not even a washbasin to use on the ground floor. Just imagine. The treatment itself went well. The doctors were helpful. The nurses were kind. What I suffered, I suffered. But I also endured the relentless smell of urine, faeces, and other bodily waste, not only inside the washroom, but also several meters away from it. Hundreds of patients must be enduring the same conditions every day. I survived the stench. I survived the post-twilight non-availability of USG services at the sub-district hospital, Sopore. I survived hours of acute urinary retention. I survived the painful journey between the two hospitals. But I ask:Why can the USG facility not be made operational at night at sub-district Hospital, Sopore?Why can GMC Baramulla not have more washrooms for patients and attendants on the ground floor designated for the emergency block?Granted, many people lack civic sense and contribute to unclean surroundings. But is the scarcity of adequate sanitation facilities not also contributing to this problem?Surely, there must be a solution. Are you listening?With all due respect and humility and concern, I write this not merely for myself, but for the countless patients who deserve dignity, timely diagnosis, and basic sanitation while seeking medical care.