[ad_1]
“You, Carlofortini, are all the same. If it were up to me, family members would be prohibited from entering hospitals! ”. Thus begins the long post on Facebook by Mariano Froldi that recounts the bad experience lived a year ago at the Sirai hospital in Carbonia. Froldi announced a complaint that will be filed in the next few days, a year after the events.
“These words of Doctor X (I’ll call him that), from time to time, resonate within. And they are not good.
Two thousand and nineteen. Last days of August. My father is dying at the Sirai. Department of Medicine. It will be 3 in the morning and we will have to fight to calm him, me, my partner Anna and my sister Rita, while he tries to ask us for water to drink. It is heartbreaking. He wants to get out of bed, but cannot speak. Try to let us know that you want water. We think so. He is intubated and has a nasogastric tube. Unfortunately, he cannot drink. Because he would run the risk of suffocation. Three of us joined in just to calm him down. I make him listen to music with the headphones of the Iphone. Maybe it’s necessary, maybe not. I do not know. It calms down a bit.
But no. It can not be done. Nothing.
Doctor X, on his night patrol as a vigilante to locate the culprits, saw us … go and explain that you have to. When they, the doctors, left my father alone, conscious or unconscious, he wiped the drops off his arms. It seems that, in theory, it is the right of at least one of the relatives to always remain close (unless there are doctors in the room) of those who are intubated and semi-conscious. But laws and regulations always seem relative in this strange nation.
You think … if we didn’t remind him he’s dysphagic, they fed him cookies, they would have put things in his lungs and he would have suffocated. When they took him for exams after the emergency hospitalization, so much so that my father, who never got on a plane, found himself in the sky inside helicopter 118, in the hospital maybe they forgot that he needed the ‘oxygen. And he was about to die asphyxiated.
Doctor X doesn’t understand these things and won’t let us get away with it. You feel relieved. May it never be. He treats us like spoiled children …
I try to be diplomatic and explain things calmly, in a low voice. But that doesn’t help.
We understand this because you send a nurse to close the room. We handle. Now Rita is inside. You can only get out of there and, doing a relay, allow them to enter one at a time by keeping Hell’s gate ajar (which can only be opened from the inside). Doctor X had his moment of glory and power… Some more, some less, they hit us in the face that our father is dying. Amen.
My mother, I, Rita, Giuseppe, Attilio, Anna and Maria take turns.
There is a way and a way to tell someone that their father is dying.
Doctor X, a few days before, at my sister’s request, almost ridiculed her.
“Everyone who asks me this question … I see it wrong!” The sarcastic laugh is shrill.
We are sitting there, on a battered melamine bench and celestial shape, in front of the door of the pavilion, which seems to us (again) the door of hell. Anna, Attilio and me.
There are nights when no one sleeps, doubled over on that half-ruined bench, in the whitish and blue hall not far away, with the buzzing of the snack machines that never fail. Or lean into the car in Sirai’s parking lot.
At one point, Attilio, Rita’s boyfriend, gets tired. I am almost stunned. Exactly. At three. Watch the doctor leave the room and point him out. Few words.
“Excuse me, look, but do you notice your behavior?” The tone is firm. But don’t yell.
The boy looks at him … maybe he feels like a goddess.
And he begins with his tirade; and with that chilling phrase.
First, in fact, he tells us, in the pavilion, when he sees the three of us that “you Carlofortini are all the same, come with all the relatives.” It tells us to mock and mock, as if to say that we create a lot of problems. Thinking about it today, it is a badge of honor to know that we lovingly care for our loved ones. But perhaps he will say the same of the Iglesienti or the Calasettani.
For some doctors we are just numbers and c breaks ………
“Excuse me, can you tell me what your name is?” Attilio answers in a high-pitched voice.
“I am ******* (the words try to articulate them calmly and coldly but there is a certain anxiety, without hiding) and I am not afraid, if you want I will tell you who to contact and make a complaint, so I know how to be in the truth!”. The whispered voice rises in pitch, as if to say “I am me and you are not a c ….”.
I wake up from numbness for a moment. I speak.
“Congratulations, you are really very human” that seems almost Fantozzian but is in excruciating pain … “look, I read what you wrote in the guest room, and I don’t think you are respecting those words”
. The usual clichés about the doctor-family alliance, its importance, etc. Useless words, written just to show off. I don’t know if that’s the case, but I think it is.
I would like to point out to doctor X that the doctor of the previous day, very sweet and affectionate, has allowed us to be in more people precisely because of my father’s delicate situation, and that there must be uniformity of behavior among doctors …
He responds, or rather murmurs again, in his personal show, expecting applause that does not come: “Ah … ssssu this is absolutely right!”. He implies, the Eternal, that it was for him, in fact, everything outside.
Outside!
What do they care if a poor Christ dies without his close relatives … they would make noise, confusion. Never, hell, it’s a hospital. Or not?
The next day we did not sleep at all. No dreams, just a huge, desperate target as I try to close my eyes. We make false papers to take it away. They can’t seem to wait. Well OK.
Let him die at home, with us hugging and caring for him.
We achieve and respect your desire to close your eyes at home. With his family.
We have time to discover various pests first. A huge one in the lumbosacral area: you can put your finger on it.
Never mind. Well think about it. Santa loved us and loves us. He loves his wife, my mother. Love us children. And she gave us life with immense joy. We know.
Now we must all watch over it and protect it as best we can.
Fierce months have passed. With the death of loved ones you have to live with it, otherwise it kills you.
Over the years, it seems that Doctor X has gained “extraordinary” and well-deserved fame.
I have heard that.
But we are Italians.
Nobody breathes, nobody protests. Between us we say the worst things, but never that we …… .. Never.
Would help? Maybe not. But wouldn’t it be worth a try?
PS: It wouldn’t make sense to put Dr. X’s first and last name here. The report we’ve prepared will take care of that. However, the problem of how to be close to the elderly, how to protect them … those who are defenseless as children, does not concern only Doctor X, but is at least widespread. For many reasons.
It would be nice if you were a little careful with those who leave, even if they are old. In fact precisely because of that. An old life is not worth less than another life. He deserves the same identical love.
God willing, many of us will die of old age ”.
At night the response from the Sirai hospital. “The management of the area and the garrison has not received any written or verbal communication about the situation (however, the information is incomplete) described in the post. Citizens, patients, family members who in any way feel harmed or believe that they have not received adequate assistance can submit a complaint or any other request to the supervisory department or URP Assl that they verify promptly through an investigation. internal and give adequate responses, so at this stage the management of the area believes that it cannot give any feedback “.
[ad_2]
