January 10, 2010
Dear Editor,
On this cold Sunday morning, we buried my nephew. He did not have to die.
His mother, my best friend, is a hard working woman who was excitedly awaiting the birth of her second son. She was surprised by his unexpected arrival on the 22nd December, 2009, two months ahead of his due date.
As a premature baby, one would expect that he would be kept in the hospital for a few days at the least. Twenty-six hours later, he was released and they were told to go home. The doctor informed my sister that she would have to be a “Kangaroo mother”, which according to him, simply meant that she had to keep the baby warm and fed.
According to them, he was fine. My brother-in-law, the baby’s dad, was concerned about the baby’s health because of the bad reputation that hospitals in Belize have. Seeking reassurance, he once again asked if they were sure the baby was healthy enough to leave the San Ignacio Hospital. They were told to take him home.
As good parents, upon their departure from the hospital they tried to find a pediatrician to give Kanan a general check-up. After visiting several clinics, they found out that this was not possible, since most doctors in Cayo were on holiday.
On the 28th December, my sister noted that Kanan’s skin was changing color and that he was not feeding as he previously did. They returned to the hospital, only to be insulted by the attending doctor, who told them that maybe the baby was sick because he didn’t have a name yet.
At this time, a name hadn’t been chosen, since each child’s name is chosen with great care and must be very significant. To make a long story short, Kanan was admitted to the Karl Heusner Memorial Hospital on Monday, 28th December 2009, in a very critical condition. It was discovered that he had a blood infection. To many, sepsis, is dangerous, but to premature low-weight infants, sepsis is life-threatening.
In the days that followed, the jaundice eventually cleared up, and a blood transfusion was performed, but his lungs became infected and hemorrhaged, he had to be put on the ventilator. His stomach was in bad condition due to the infection, and many of his other organs were affected.
On Wednesday, 6th January, 2010, I visited him at KHMH and came to the conclusion that my nephew was a fighter. He was lying quietly in the incubator when I arrived. I spoke to him and he lifted his right hand, as in salutation. This moment will forever stay with me. He had a great desire to live. He had an IV hooked up to his artery, was breathing with the help of a ventilator and had tubes coming out of different parts of his body. I knew then that he was even more special than we had originally thought.
After fighting to survive for so long, on Friday, 8th January, 2010, Kanan passed away. Brain hemorrhaging caused by the infection was what finally caused his demise.
To many, it is simple: THE BELIZEAN HEALTH CARE SYSTEM HAS FAILED AGAIN! To his mother and father, friends and family, it is more than just that. We know that he cannot come back, but we feel that the public must be made aware of what happens to those that trust the system and its personnel.
Kanan’s death could have been avoided. If he had been properly examined after he was born, the infection could have been detected and controlled at an early stage. As it was, by the time he was admitted to the KHMH, he was already in grave danger. Doctors and nurses at the KHMH worked unreservedly hard at trying to save him, and must be commended for this. They tried everything within their power to give him a chance at life.
Doctors at the San Ignacio hospital are another matter altogether. I hope that they don’t sleep at night thinking about what they have done. Their carelessness, negligence or simple ignorance has devastated a family, a community and even worse yet, a little boy who was expecting to be an older brother to Kanan.
What happens now? How long will we continue to grieve and cry for our loss? How will we get to the point of accepting that our little angel, Kanan, was to some just another statistic? How do we recover from this?
Everyday we hear of murders, burglaries, robberies, rapes and other such heinous crimes. Isn’t negligence a crime also? Don’t our doctors know that when they decided to study medicine and to practice medicine, they relegated their lives to serving others?
The Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath (this is the oath that doctors take upon completion of their studies) states that “Into whatever patient setting I enter, I will go for the benefit of the sick and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief or corruption…”.
The final clause in the oath states that “WHILE I CONTINUE to keep this Oath inviolate may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the art and science of medicine with the blessing of the Almighty and respected by my peers and society, but should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse be my lot.”
Have our doctors forgotten this? Are our doctors so dumb that they do not know that a premature infant needs special attention and care? This cannot continue to happen! What must we do to stop it? Do we need to become violent to be heard?
What happens to those who depend solely on public hospitals and clinics because they cannot afford to go to a private doctor or clinic? What happens to those that trust our system simply because they trust that our doctors will do their job properly? Who will answer these questions?
Dr. Roxanna Alvarez V. M.
(Ed. NOTE: Amandala’s attempts to contact health officials in San Ignacio and Belmopan today on this story were futile. The administrator for the San Ignacio Hospital was out of office when we called this morning; we were referred to the Western Health Region manager in Belmopan, who was in a meeting. Finally, when we contacted the Ministry of Health in Belmopan this afternoon, we were told that Director of Health Services Dr. Michael Pitts was in meetings.)