Daktari Relative (My Experience as the Patient’s Relative)

I arrive at the hospital to support my loved one as they are ill. I find her waiting for the results, in the company of her mother. I ask about her history, which was recurrent vomiting since morning. The vomit was yellow and is now brown in color.

I ask what tests have been done and proceed to wait. And wait. And wait. You see to a patient, or relative, 10 minutes is like 2 hours of watching paint dry-no;it is more like 2 hours of waiting for a crucial report — like KCSE results, end of year results, an interview response, or the results of cancer screening. I guess that’s how the term ‘patient’ came about. But there is nothing I can do, so I wait, and wait, and wait.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the doctor comes to see her, with test results in hand. I examine them and note that my loved one has a severe bacterial infection (which I conclude maybe led to the vomiting, causing irritation of the stomach [gastritis] and so more vomiting). But the doctor says the pancreas might also have a problem so she needs to be admitted. Really? Okay, he is right; she is not retaining anything she swallows anyway. I think to situations where I feel a patient needs admission and the relatives are giving their opinions on alternate management,maybe based on hearsay, or Google;not aware of potential complications, so I just nod in agreement, admission it is.

Now awaiting admission. Again seemingly feels like eons. I set out to look for the doctor and ask if he is sure she will be okay, and he assures me detailing every course of management and further investigations which I agree with, his final words being, don’t worry, she is in good hands, and that completely calms me. I wonder to myself- if I wasn’t a doctor, would he take his time to answer my questions and allay my fears? (I think so). Do I do the same as a doctor; or am I in a hurry to see the next patient? Or worse, get back to reply to a text message?! Do I clearly explain their condition to them and their loved ones in the simplest way possible, whilst assuring them?

Back to the cubicle with my loved one. Nurse Geoffrey walks in and says hello. He explains that he wants to give medicine, and bends over to the side of the bed where my loved one lays. He tells her he will give her medicine through the IV line in her hand. He touches her hand and says, “It won’t be painful”. Wow!I am so impressed! He does everything and nods and smiles as he walks out. I wonder to myself, is this face of all the nurses? It should be; it really does help the patient and the relatives. We continue sitting waiting for admission but it is delayed for one reason or another. The nurse comes back and explains why. After a few minutes (seems like a short time as the nurse kept explaining the causes of delay), nurse Geoffrey comes back with the ward nurse ready to take my loved one to the ward. The ward nurse looks at my beloved, and notes that she has cerebral palsy hence cannot walk and hesitates. He pulls Geoffrey to the corner and of course I eavesdrop. He says to Geoffrey, “Just give me 10 more minutes, so I can get a bed in the acute room where there are nurses stationed all the time, to give her better attention“. I cannot explain how amazed and happy I am at the quality of care here. You see; my outlook of the hospital is solely based on my interaction with the doctors, nurses and lay staff. I feel assured; I feel my beloved is in safe hands, I feel even if I go home, she will be well taken care of.

I now see things from the patients and relatives’ perspective. To my fellow medics, please patiently answer all the questions your patients and their relatives have, as they don’t know, they feel helpless; they want to know so that they can help. Clearly explain the procedures to them. Ensure that the test that you told them will be done tomorrow is done on time, treat them with kindness, and understand their anxiety. Give your best to each patient, because you, dear doctor, are the best they have at that moment!