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The crisis in our native healthcare is no secret to anyone. Every day we read sad stories about people who have faced the harsh reality in hospitals, and everyone hopes it is not necessary. Several times the team of Plovdiv24.bg publishes posts on the social network of people who have lost loved ones after lack of adequate treatment. Today’s reason to share the story of Iliana Zaharieva, who lost her father, as she puts it, to “irresponsibility, chaos and inhumanity”, is only one: to make the problems public and to be able to help someone. We publish the post without editorial intervention:
“My dad died last Saturday … I’ve been gathering strength so far to tell him how it went. I know he won’t bring him back, but maybe he’ll help others. He had chronic kidney failure and went on hemodialysis the first 3 times. per week. dialysis services, Plovdiv, great modern place with good doctors and patient care. He had no problems, 3 times a week he would go in person with his car and return alone. Hemodialysis is a serious treatment, requires good equipment, preparations, close monitoring of patients and care “My father had it and it was fine. Until the hysteria came. “
On October 27, he went on his scheduled dialysis and was returned because he had a temperature of 37.6. Normally, you would never be denied dialysis due to a fever. It has happened before, they would do dialysis and recommend a test and treatment for the virus. But not now. He called me and we immediately started doing a test, which turned out to be positive for kovid. What’s next from now? They explained to me that the only option for a hemodialysis patient with covid was to be admitted to the Plovdiv Infectious Diseases Hospital, where he would be treated for the virus and dialysis, everything was organized.
Infectious, of course, there were no seats. I found, with acquaintances, with connections. He was admitted on October 28 (Wednesday), one day after the missed hemodialysis. The reception with “connections” took place after 3 hours of waiting in line. My contacts were at a high level, they saved his bed and he waited for proper care. It was received on Wednesday 28.10. I think the next day they took a photo and found pneumonia, not serious according to the doctor, unilateral, so they started treatment with infusions. It was Thursday and he hadn’t been on dialysis yet, although he had already missed Tuesday. After much insistence and reminder on my part, he was dialyzed on Friday. How does this happen at the Plovdiv Infectious Diseases Hospital? Kovid patients are lying on the second floor of the hospital (an old building in ruins), my father was in block 1, for dialysis he has to go down to KARIL, there is no elevator and they come with the dialysis machine from the ward corresponding dialysis. The first time the man came down the stairs and went on dialysis. How, with what equipment, with what preparations I have no idea and will not understand. Maybe my colleagues in the media will help us do the research so that future patients will know. All I know is that a doctor and some nurses followed him in his dialysis center, they measured his weight and blood several times, while here they simply put him on the machine.
After the first dialysis, everything seemed fine. They promised me that I was included in a plan for next week’s Monday, Wednesday and Friday for dialysis and that the treatment for the virus would continue. He did not answer the phone on Monday. Because the covid virus is treated against the plague, there is no access to the ward, to doctors, or to patients. At 12 o’clock you stand on the stairs of Infectious and wait for someone to be kind enough to give you “information” about your loved one. You wait, you wait, at some point a nervous doctor or nurse comes out, fights and possibly tells you something. My brother lives in Plovdiv, he went personally to lunch every day to find out and bring what he needed. They informed me especially by phone what and how is happening, because I am under protection. Apparently something happened after dialysis on Monday, because on Wednesday ?! ? They told me I was not quite right, I was confused and inappropriate, I had facialis (distortion) on my face. I’m not a doctor, but this worried me a lot and I went urgently to Plovdiv. I managed to alert them obviously, because on the fourth day later getting worse after dialysis on Monday, they arranged for him to have a scan (to rule out a stroke) and for his missed dialysis to be reunited on Wednesday.
Thanks to this scanner, through which he was transported by ambulance, I was able to see my father for the last time. He lay on the gurney, conscious, raising his head in amazement at what was happening. He looked at me and recognized me, he smiled at me. That sweet confused smile haunts me now on my sleepless nights. I walked over, grabbed him by the shoulder and said, “Dad, everything is going to be fine. We are going to take you to an exam.” At that moment, one of the paramedics carrying the stretcher yelled at me: “If you don’t help, at least don’t bother.” I took a step back, startled and scared. When I’m worried, I feel pressured by the ruthless hands of the system. I guess that’s the case for most people. Self-confidence, authority, trust disappear before the fear of the loved one. I shrugged. Todor was with me and he was furious. I was going to attack the rude paramedic, but stopped him for fear of taking him to my father. The scan showed no strokes or other changes and then he was taken downstairs to dialysis. Thursday. Dialysis from 1 to 5 in the afternoon, I went back to Sofia because I had nothing to do, I don’t have access to anywhere. At 10 pm the Roma nurse Dinko called me. It was the only phone he had, except the boss’s, where he was protected. In the room itself, none of the doctors gives their contacts, no one. Only nurse Dinko, the man who gave us information, supervised him, put on his diaper and pajamas, showed humanity and care. Then Dinko called me and said: “Send your brother here immediately with a blanket and two men, your father is lying in the room for five hours, there are no paramedics, no stretchers, and we cannot take him upstairs to the room” . I got angry, fear took hold of me again. I immediately called the + “boss” at 10pm and told him what was going on. What happened? Nothing. An hour later I learned from Dinko that my father was still lying alone, he had managed to take him out to the front (because my brother cannot enter CARIL) and waited for my brother with the blanket to take him upstairs, so at 12 o’clock he went my brother and also managed to see our dad for the last time. He recognized him and smiled at him, they put him on the bed to let in the prescribed treatment systems. The doctor on duty was not present throughout the incident, only Nurse Dinko and a more or less responsible nurse who wanted to let him have the systems.
The next day, Friday, I already knew that there was something very rotten in this hospital. They activated me to an even higher level, personally the head of the entire hospital is involved in my father’s case. We discussed his condition, I insisted on transferring him to the dialysis room, but they told me that without a negative PCR test there is no movement from the Infectious Diseases Hospital. Now, for the last time, I will call it infectious “Hospital”. Because, in fact, it is an infirmary at best. A place where patients lie in beds on a path and seem to rely primarily on natural selection. Well, my father did not turn out to be. Saturday morning, my brother was told that he had died during the night. I will never know what happened. I know that his concomitant illness put him at risk and could be made worse by many things, but the doctors also knew and did nothing to get adequate care for his condition. Our system is not at all prepared for these patients or at least in Plovdiv.
My only consolation is that. The night before, already activated by the highest level, they showed humanity and asked us to bring an electric blanket because their extremities were very cold. At 8 pm we found an open store, bought a blanket and brought it. I pray that my father leaves in peace and cordiality. Heat from the electric blanket, not from the people around you. From this hospital, he and my family only received irresponsibility, chaos, lack of professionalism and inhumanity.
PS: Right now my mother is in ISUL resuscitation with severe covid pneumonia. An ambulance took her without any connections and for now she is stabilized. The hospital, the doctors, the attitude, everything is different. No, it’s not perfect, but I don’t think I will have to tell a similar story about my mother. ”
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