Just a messenger of poor people’s grief

Is it true that some doctors are not as caring and attentive to their sick patients as they ought to? Is it true or not that when some doctors walk out of their jobs in protest, they leave behind many sick, lame and bleeding people? Isn’t all this connected to their professional oath of practice? Or put another way, at what point should a doctor walk out of his or her job as a mark of protest? This is the substance of my recent speech in the Senate and which quite predictably gave rise to sharp self-serving retorts by certain sections of the medical profession carried in the print and electronic media.

Their threat to walk out, I understand, is not linked to a lack of drugs, linen, dialysis machine, etc but a bit too premature in the context of on-going salary  negotiations. This is not a case where a person could shop around if one supply store is closed. Health care is a unique, often a life and death matter, and as such, for poor people who travel far and wide for treatment, both the Government and the doctors should stay away from reaching the brink. Of course, in this simmering discourse, and as a matter of fairness, the public should know that there are many good, caring doctors. From my knowledge, three of these come quickly to mind — Dr Winston Ince, Dr RP Maharaj and Dr Paul Teelucksingh. My own neighbour, by both reputation and personal knowledge, is also one.

What seems to be missing is more effective mentorship, especially since quite a few senior doctors called me to agree with the point that there seems to be more business than caring hearts in the profession today. And what is all this repeated noise about my saying “all doctors?” I did not say “all doctors.” Let me quote exactly what I said in the Senate: “Too many doctors behave, first of all, as if they are just businessmen and businesswomen and health service comes afterwards.”  For people like me and Professor Bartholomew, if there are five, or even ten such doctors, then that is “too many.” Over the years many students have asked me for recommendations to enter medical school. At that time, they professed such passionate dedication to helping the poor and the sick, etc, etc. What happens after they graduate?

As for the evidence, it is damning. Let me cite a few. In September 1999 at 3 pm, 55-year old Ranjit Rambaran fell ill and his family took him to the Mount Hope Medical Sciences Priority Care facility. He died there the next day. Being with the distressed family throughout that period, I witnessed the neglect that might have contributed to his death and raised the matter with the then chairman of the NWRHA,  Liaquat Ali Shah. In her written complaint  to Dr Rasheed Rahaman, medical director and copied to then minister Hamza Rafeeq, the wife, Mrs Rambaran, said, among other things: “My husband was sweating profusely and complaining of pain. He was very restless. We observed once again there was no medical personnel available to assist so as to prevent any deterioration of his condition...His IV line was hanging unattached and his bed was heavily soiled with blood.”
The hours passed and after being prevented from seeing her husband, a doctor finally appeared to tell her he was dead. I attended the “hearing” which resulted from Mrs Rambaran’s complaint. It was just a litany of poor excuses. At that time, another woman from Arima, having experienced a similar tragedy, planned to join with Mrs Rambaran to organise a national campaign against such medical neglect. Such grieving people are just waiting for the charter of patients’ rights to become mobilised. Where is the Charter of Patients’ Rights and Obligations which then minister Hamza Rafeeq promised in August 2001?

In recent times, more and more of such tragedies have been brought to my attention. I know a gentleman who, after his heart surgery in February 2001, had to remain sitting for eight hours waiting for medical attention, even after a proper appointment was made. And without getting anything to eat or drink. This stress “could finish kill a man.” Poor sick people have no real voice in this country. And as far as the self-serving reactions of some doctors and especially MPATT go, the future does not look too healthy. Why don’t they follow the example of Trevor Oliver and more recently Clyde Permell of the Trinidad and Tobago Unified Teachers’ Association (TTUTA)? Last year, when I noted that some teachers are too delinquent for the good of the profession, Oliver and Permell not only agreed but expressed a determination to help clean up their profession. Same thing with the police service. Earlier this year, when I called in the Senate for improved police performance in the face of rising public concerns, ACP Oswyn Allard and Police Commissioner Trevor Paul dutifully pledged to tackle the problem in the service. I took an oath as Independent Senator and I intend to carry it out fearlessly, and, as President Richards recently advised me, according to my conscience.

Of course, I am aware of the doctors’ problems. For a few years now, Dr Colin Furlonge (former MPATT president) and myself have been discussing these problems and indeed, I have raised the matter of drugs, beds and other facilities for both patients and doctors with the authorities. So too have I done with Ms Jennifer Baptiste and the PSA. But, gosh man, have a heart. For all these things, and as I have said before, the poor, the sick, the lame and the bleeding cannot pay for such sins of omission. Not in the profession of medicine.  That was the substance of my presentation in the Senate. One senior army officer, while supporting my views, lamented: “Professor, if you fall sick now, yuh dead.” Surely, he is joking.