Thursday, November 27, 2008

An Ailing Enterprise

Webster’s dictionary defines Hospitals as “institutions where sick or injured are given medical or surgical care”. This definition truly falls short in many respects, especially when viewed from the perspective of the medical fraternity. We, who spend most of our waking hours in one or more of these “institutions” come to look upon them as this, and much more. They are our teachers for the best part, there are times when they are our friends, our shelter, and of course there are occasions when we can barely wait to get out of there. Hospitals are in a number of ways like living, breathing entities. They are born when they start functioning, they grow over years as they develop with the changes happening in the world of medicine and in some occasions, for different reasons, they one day cease to operate, or die.

I have been associated with a hospital that is, unfortunately in such a situation, where it is fighting to stay alive and to put it bluntly, the prognosis doesn’t look too good. In such circumstances, it is natural for all the people associated with the institute to be very worried, and the instinct for self preservation takes over. Perhaps we should take some time out and give a little thought to the hospital itself. Having been around for over a hundred years, having been over a thousand bedded facility in its heyday, having been a premier center for health care and research, for the institution to see this day, to be, metaphorically speaking, on its knees, having stood tall not too long back, is indeed a sad, sad story.

These, however, are also signs of the changing times, when we realize that a hospital is not merely what the lexicon defines it as, but are also financial concerns, with medicine and health care being the multi billion dollar industry it is today, and we also must unfortunately accept that if it is not financially viable for an organization to keep running, it must shut down. If we take a moment though, to reflect on the parallel I attempted to draw between humans and hospitals, I wonder how the hospital would feel at the state of affairs, having witnessed many events in its time. It has seen glorious discoveries, it has trained fresh moldable minds into competent physicians, many of whom are at the forefront in their chosen fields. It has served the changing community for over a century. It has been a part of their joys at the birth of their children and the recovery of their sick. It has been a source of strength in their times of weakness, and a silent sympathetic spectator to their grief. In short, it has done its part and a whole lot more.

Everywhere you go in the premises of the hospital at this point in time, you come across snippets of conversation about the impending fate, and while most of these circulate around how it is going to affect the lives of those associated with the organization, there are underlying emotions which are quite perceptible. There are those who feel angry and frustrated, partly because of the concern for their own futures and careers, but also because they can do little to help the hospital, their home away from home, in its time of need. There are those who feel despair and disgust at the way their workplace is being snatched away from them by financial reasons and constraints that they don’t even comprehend, and there are some who still feel pride at having been associated with an institution that in its day shone like the sun in the world of medicine, leading the way in research and clinical practice. If I may speak on behalf of my fellow workers, it is largely a combination of all these emotions that most of us feel.

Many of the employees, past and present, have been associated with the hospital for a large part of their careers, and declare with pride, “I will go down with this ship”. It is this attitude, perhaps that also reflects what the hospital would feel at this time in its life. Pride, at having accomplished so much, and the will to continue to fight, no matter how dire the circumstances. As for the employees, patrons and other people associated with the hospital, life will carry on, here or elsewhere, but I hope that the mixed feelings of anger and despair will eventually give way to a feeling of pride. Pride, in staying in the fight and not throwing down their arms, pride at performing their duties to the optimum even under the most strained circumstances, and pride, for coming through testing situations which are being witnessed far too often in the American health care system today.

(Written in tribute to Michael Reese Hospital, Chicago)

The Code

Suddenly it was all over
And everyone looked at me
As I looked at my watch,
Said “time of death - 4:53”

After all the frenetic activity
A squalid pall had descended
For, on ICU bed 3
A code had just ended.

(also a piece deemed unworthy by the Annals)