MEDICAL SOS: MY "LASSA FEVER" STORY ….. Incompetence And Negligence Are Nigerians
MEDICAL SOS: MY
"LASSA FEVER" STORY ….. Incompetence
And Negligence Are Nigerians
Whatever hope I had for, and
whatever faith I had in, this country, especially its healthcare system; died a
few days ago.The height of negligence and incompetence I came face-to-face
with, these few days, left me shattered, and lost for words.
Not just was I supposedly exposed
unduly to a deadly virus, I was left with the headache of trying to contain its
spread-- a task that should have been the exclusive reserve of the ministry of
health, through its public health department.
And when I developed suggestive
symptoms, I was refused treatment by a TEACHING HOSPITAL, and was left to fend
for myself, even as I ran cross country, across the length and breadth of
Nigeria, sick, exhausted, traumatized; and what more, possibly spreading the
virus, as I travelled UNSUPERVISED!
Below is my story. I would be
leaving out names, as the individuals involved may also be victims of a failed
system just as much as I was. Also, for want of space, I would be leaving out
core medical details, like examination and investigation findings.
THE EXPOSURE
Patient zero presented to the
hospital where I work, at about 4pm, on Friday, the 12th of January 2018. She
had been on admission in a clinic some 10km away.
She presented as a known RVD on
HAART with complaints of Fever [even though on presentation, temperature was
normal: 36.7°C], cough with occasional blood-stained sputum [hemoptysis],
pleuritic chest pain, oral sores, joint pains, all of 4 days duration;
irrational talk, that progressed rapidly to an altered level of consciousness,
of 3 days duration; and jaundice [yellowness of the eyes], passage of
coke-colored urine, and slight abdominal swelling, of a day duration. No leg
swelling, nor swelling around the eyes.
After reviewing the systems, and
carrying out a full examination, which included a VE [!]; I noticed a nose
bleed, which the relatives claimed was the first incident of such. Based on the
findings, I made an assessment of "Multi Organ Failure, query cause."
This means that her organs were already failing-- that much I knew; but I was not
yet sure what was the cause. Hence the "query cause." My list of
possiblities, however, included:
1. Pneumonic Sepsis [for obvious
reasons]
2. Acute Fulminant Hepatitis
[because of the quartet of jaundice, encephalopathy, coagulopathy, and
abdominal distention]
3. SLE [making a case for this here
is beyond the scope of this write up]
4. And finally, Viral Hemorrhagic
Fever, in this instance Lassa Fever [this was only included for the sake of
completion, because at this point, I honestly wasn't thinking of Lassa Fever].
The plan was to resuscitate, and
refer-- a decision I would later regret.
IF IT LOOKS LIKE LASSA, IT'S SAFER
TO ASSUME IT'S LASSA
After initial resuscitation, she
started making adequate urine, the level of consciousness improved, and the
acidotic breathing resolved. I wrote them a referral, but they said they had
ran out of cash as a result of the four days they spent in the CHEW-manned
clinic they were referred from. And since it was already weekend, they couldn't
withdraw. This meant that they couldn't afford to transport her to a new
Hospital, and start paying for a new card, admission deposits, and all what
not. Neither could they settle the bills they had incurred in our Hospital.
So, we were stuck with her for the
weekend, and had no option but to continue life-sustaining treatment.
Unfortunately, by Monday, she
deteriorated again, and started bleeding from multiple sites, including the
nostrils, mouth, vagina, and into the skin.
A liver function test we did over
the weekend had ruled out Acute Fulminant Hepatitis. Also, an on-the-phone
review of the case with a Senior Registrar in Rheumatology ruled out SLE,
despite the striking similarities. So, we were left with Sepsis [+DIC], and
Viral Hemorrhagic Fever!
By the time news filtered in that
someone had died from a suspected case of VHF in her locality, Lassa Fever was
looking more and more probable, even though I still made "Sepsis with
DIC" my first choice diagnosis.
ATTEMPTS AT CONTROLLING AN OUTBREAK
FROM THE SUSPECTED CASE
At this point, everyone was yelling
"discharge and refer," but I couldn't, for the following reasons:
1. This people didn't have money.
So, if I referred them at that point, they were definitely going home. And that
would mean exposing everyone around them: the family, relatives, and friends,
who'd come visiting!
2. If they found money, by whatever
stroke of luck [oh, I forgot to mention that they had lied about having money
in the bank] , and went to a new Hospital, that would mean exposing another set
of doctors, and nurses!
The best way to prevent these two
scenarios, I reckoned, was to keep her [since we were already exposed anyway],
and then inform the authorities. They would know exactly what to do, and how to
do it, without risking other lives. STUPID ME!
While we were waiting for that, I
put the following measures in place:
1. I had the woman transferred to an
isolation ward. Thankfully, throughout her admission, she'd been alone in the
particular ward section she was admitted in before we started suspecting VHF.
2. We stopped admitting new patients
into the ward she was admitted before.
3. The two relatives taking care of
her were advised to be using hand gloves, and face masks; and also not to leave
the hospital premises.
4. No visitors were allowed into her
isolation room.
5. I saw to it that provision for
hand washing, under running water, was made at the entrance to her room. The
water was always fortified with Jik.
6. We minimized care to the
essentials: changing her drip, and administering her IV drugs. No more taking
of vital signs, changing of beddings, doing reviews, and all what not.
7. Any staff who MUST GO IN, must do
so with elbow length gloves, and face mask, and try as much as possible to
minimize contact.
8. All the vital signs equipments
used on the patient were marked as potentially hazardous, not to be used on
other patients, at least until we become sure of what we are dealing with.
.
The plan was to do this for few
hours, at most a day, as we were expecting the authorities to sweep in, and
take the huge burden of KEEPING HER ALIVE off our shoulders.
INFORMING THE AUTHORITIES, AND THEIR
LACKADAISICAL RESPONSE
The authorities were promptly
notified IMMEDIATELY we started suspecting Viral Hemorrhagic Fever [VHF]. The
Department of Public Health, of the state's Ministry of Health, was duly
notified, and they promised to send a "team."
The first day passed; no show. On
the second day, they sent a DSNO [Disease Surveillance Notification Officer].
So much for sending a "team!"
The woman who came was less equipped
than we were. She came with NOTHING, but her hand bag, pen, and a form to fill.
We lent her the gloves and face mask she wore when she went to the isolation
ward to see the patient. And oh, by "seeing" I meant sightseeing on
aproko levels!
When we came out, she said she was
asked to get a blood sample to be sent to Lassa Fever Centre, Irrua, for
screening. Yet she didn't come with any PPE! Heck she didn't even come with a
sample container, vacutainer, or tourniquet. What am I even saying; weren't we
the ones who gave her the gloves she wore for "sightseeing?"
Because it was my life, and that of
the staff I work with, on the line, I gritted my teeth, gloved up, and went to
collect a sample from the patient, risking further exposure. But we had to know
if it was Lassa fever, didn't we? And that was the only way.
When I was done collecting the
sample, we realized she hadn't made arrangements on how to preserve it while
transporting it. So, we got a Giostyle coolbox, and ice packs, from our
immunization department, and gave it to her.
The Ribavirin we were expecting from
them? Lol! It was obvious we were better off sweeping the Sahara!
.
The Department of Public Health
called again, and said I should put the patient in an Ambulance, and transport
him to the Teaching Hospital , some 118 Kilometers away! I cringed at the
shamelessness, and audacity of that request.
They promised me a "team,"
but instead sent someone that spelt jaundice as "joindis." I was
expecting PPE, instead I lent their staff gloves. And where I was expecting
Ribavirin, they brought nothing, never mind I was doing their job for them,
cracking my head on how to contain an epidemic! And they still had the audacity
to make another request of me? And with absolutely no shame? I was livid with
rage.
Pettiness aside, how do they expect
us to transport the patient, without exposing more people, the driver of the
ambulance inclusive? What about the logistics of the travel; who's going to
cater to that?
They later called back, and said
they'd send a "team" to come and take her that evening.
We waited, and waited, but saw no
one.
DEATH OF "PATIENT ZERO, "
AND CONTINUED NONCHALANCE OF THE PUBLIC HEALTH DEPARTMENT
The following morning, the patient
was still in a bad shape. We had transfused [yes, STUPID ME; I was still trying
to save her life] with fresh whole blood, to correct the Thrombocytopenia shown
in the FBC, and she was no longer bleeding. But she was still in a terrible
condition.
We waited for the team that was
promised to come and take her, but saw no one. A little after midday, about 72
hours after the Public Health department had been notified; she gave up the
ghost.
I called the PH department again, to
inform them of the development, and to remind them that the corpse needed to be
disposed professionally, to avoid putting others at risk. They said I should
get a body bag, put the patient in it, make sure the patient is buried ASAP,
and what more, that I should supervise the burial. Yes; they actually said all
that!
Question is, since when did it
become the duty of a doctor to supervise the burial of a corpse suspected to be
contaminated with a highly virulent virus such as Lassa Fever? Even if it was
my duty, is it not meant to be done with the "undertakers" wearing
PPEs, and someone following them, decontaminating the environment as they go?
So, where was I meant to get PPEs, the whatever they use in decontamination, and
the damned body bag?
Clearly, not just were this people
running from their responsibilities, they also don't know what their
responsibility is!
When I asked about the sample I
risked my life to collect the previous day, they said they were yet to send it
to Irrua; that they planned on doing so the following day!
BETRAYAL FROM THE RELATIVES
The relatives refused to pay
Hospital bills. This was particularly painful, because this was a woman we all
risked our lives for, and continued attending to until her death, even when we
thought it might be a case of Lassa Fever! Not just that, I had paid for the
investigations, blood transfusion, IV fluids, and IV antibiotics [all totalling
about 15k] with my own money. So what they were asked to pay was just for bed
space, and the other services. And yet, they refused to pay a dime.
Because of the circumstances
surrounding the case, we had to let them go. So the Hospital ended up with the
lives of its staff on the line, and still had nothing to show for it. That's
what you get for trying to do good IN NIGERIA!
A WEIRD COINCIDENCE: THE SCARE
While all these were happening, I
was never really scared, because, even though it was a strong differential, I
wasn't really convinced it was Lassa Fever. I can't go into details about why I
didn't think it was Lassa; it would be beyond the scope of this write up.
However, 2 days after patient zero's
death, I suddenly developed fever, vomiting, diarrhea, malaise, headache, and
sore throat. And for the first time, I was really scared to the marrow [details
of this can be seen in an earlier post I made on this issue, titled "From
Scare To Nightmare"].
I placed myself on ORS, Zinc, and
antiemetics; and then called my friends, and colleagues to inform them. My plan
had been to continue with the conservative management, and source for oral
Ribavirin myself, while waiting for patient zero's results; but after
consulting my friends, the unanimous decision was for me to start going to
Lassa Fever centre, Irrua, for admission, and outright commencement of
treatment. They wouldn't have me take chances.
And that was how the wild goose
chase started. I hurriedly packed my things, had someone withdraw a huge sum of
money for me, informed and took permission from the Hospital's administrator;
and in 2 hours, I was on the road in the Hospital's ambulance, sick, tired,
confused, as a thousand and one thoughts were racing through my head.
REJECTED BY THE TEACHING HOSPITAL
Before I left, I had contacted the
Public Health department again, to let them in on the new development, and the
fact that we should seriously start making plans of tracing other people that
patient zero may have contacted, and exposed unknowingly. Stupid me! But that's
how I am wired; I am never really the type who looks out for himself alone.
The Department of Public Health gave
me a contact to call in the Teaching Hospital, and convinced me not to embark
on a 9 hour journey to Irrua, since I was sick and unstable, and they have an
infection control unit in the Teaching Hospital that is well equipped to handle
the case. I called the contact, and he said that they've been informed, and
that they are READY and waiting for me. By being "ready," they meant
Ribavirin, PPEs, and all that. So, I took a detour, and embarked on a 2 hour
journey to the Teaching Hospital instead.
When I got there, I got a cold
reception. I was kept in the ambulance for 2 hours, from 6.30pm to around
8.45pm, on the pretext that they were "looking for the keys to the
isolation ward." I was left out there unattended to, sick, tired from a
long journey, and apprehensive. My friends were calling, yelling that I should
leave and start going to Irrua. But I reasoned it was already late, and I
didn't want to take that risk.
At around 9pm, they finally
"found the keys," and I was taken to an isolation ward, in a huge
deserted complex.
After one hour of waiting, and of
having the clinical staff peer at me through the window, like I was some alien;
someone fully kitted with a PPE, came in to see me.
After asking a few questions, he
told me outrightly that I was on my own. That the PPE he was wearing was the
last in the hospital, and that no one would agree to touch me without it. He
went further to say that as it stood then, neither him, nor the hospital, was
"officially aware" that I was in there. Talk about "plausible
deniability!"
I was shocked to the marrow. The
irony of it-- the fact that I risked my own life to take care of someone I
didn't know, who wasn't even from the same state as me, without PPEs, and in a
Community Hospital, in a remote village! And right there were people, who were
meant to be my professional colleagues, my "Hippocratic" and
"Nightingalean" brethren, working in a tertiary institution--
supposedly the most equipped hospital in the state, and yet they couldn't do
same for me.
I wasn't mad at them though, as I
realized that they were as much victims of a shitty system, as I was; for in
their eyes, I saw pity, empathy, and shame. Perhaps if they had PPEs they would
have done something. Perhaps not. Truth is, we'll never know.
" Okay," I said; "now
that you're still wearing PPE, can you at least help me site an IV line, and
put me on IV fluids?"
No, can't do; you're not on
admission, and like I said, the hospital is not "aware" you're here.
" What of Ribvirin; can I get
it and start treating myself?"
No, we can't give you that; we can't
give you drugs without a definitive diagnosis.
"Excuse me? You're saying that
in the setting of a potentially life-threatening ailment, you'd rather wait for
a confirmatory diagnosis that may take days, possibly risking the patient's
life, instead of starting life-saving treatment?"
And he said something I considered
condescending about the drugs having numerous side effects.
I scoffed. Drug side effects my
foot! As if we were not taught about what to do when benefits outweighs risk in
medical school.
At this point, there was no need
engaging further; it was obvious this people were playing "political
correctness" with my life.
Before they left, they said I should
continue self-medicating with the ORS and Zinc, that I CAME WITH, to stay
hydrated; and that I should be monitoring MY OWN vital signs, and let them know
if "something" happens. Right; like if I enter into shock, my ghost
would pick up my phone and start making calls, abi?
That was how I was left ALONE in a
vast one storey complex, sick, with a thousand thoughts running through my
head.
At around 11pm, I decided it was
best to check myself out, and go to find a hotel, spend the night, and then
continue my journey to Irrua the following day. And no, I didn't care if I was
going to be putting the hotel staff at risk; whatever selflessness, and
misguided sense of patriotism, I had died in that Hospital where I was left to
my fate. If their government didn't care enough to protect them, even when I
had tried to make it easier for them, why should I care? Besides, if I was
dying, I would rather spend the remaining of my days in luxury, and comfort,
and not in a deserted building where my only companions would be my thoughts,
and the elements.
Old habits die hard. As I went to
that hotel room, I still went with Dettol, and Jik, and made sure I was washing
my hands regularly, to minimize the risk of putting anyone at risk. Lol. Stupid
me.
FENDING FOR MYSELF: TRIP TO IRRUA
The following morning, we set out
for Irrua as early as 6.30 am. It was a long journey that took about 9 hours.
Through out the journey, I was
receiving calls, and prayers, from friends, family, and well wishers. They made
me feel loved; they made me feel there was good in humanity after all; and that
whatever I had done was well worth it.
We arrived at Irrua Specialist
Teaching Hospital at exactly 3.30pm. The first thing I did was to report myself
to the Lassa Fever Centre, and have them look for patient Zero's result. It
happened that they hadn't even started running the sample, as they were
overwhelmed with samples from all over the country.
However, they were humane enough to
understand my predicament, and the urgency it required. So, they made it a
priority, and included it in the next batch of samples to be run.
THE LONG WAIT
I waited for long for that result.
At a point, it was obvious that it was going to be a long wait, so I went and
booked myself a hotel room. A consultant in the centre had earlier advised that
it may be imprudent to admit me at that time, risking further exposure. Since I
was no longer having diarrhea, vomiting, and fever,AT THAT TIME, he said we
should wait for the results of patient zero first.
By 10pm, I was still seated outside
the lab, waiting. Finally, the door opened, and they told me that they had made
a mistake while running the sample, and would have to redo the test. Exhausted
and drained, both emotionally and physically, I decided I couldn't wait any
longer. So, I went to my hotel room, switched off my phones, and dozed off.
A HAPPY ENDING
The following morning, at around
7.30 am, the lab called me: patient zero's result was negative. And I heaved a
sigh of relief. The first thing I did was to call my friends, and family--
beautiful set of people, who had been more worried than I was, and tell them
that the battle was over.
On my way back home, I got sick
again. So, when I got home, I ran some tests, and it happened what I had was
Sepsis, and Malaria with a very high parasite density.
I'm on drugs now, and recuperating
fine. And yes, I'm also on sick leave, even though I've been reviewing cases
brought to me by my junior colleague on my sick bed 😜. Yea, they can't
take that away from me: love for what I do!
.
It feels like I have been given a
second chance. A chance, not just to live, but also to see more clearly, and
realize that this country isn't worth it. Oh well, let's just get well first
DISCLAIMER
I deliberately left out the name of
any state on this write up, so "Ministry of Health," "Department
of Public Health," and "Teaching Hospital," as used here, could
be that of any of the 36 states. This was deliberate, and was done so for legal
reasons, in case anyone wants to get funny, as I don't have any evidence to
prove all I've written here.
But we know every bit of information
written here is the TRUTH, our truth; and we know where all these happened.
Don't we?
Shhh, don't tell.
There you have it, people; Your
NIGERIA!
And you, the medics; just know this:
YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN!
ANONYMOUS.
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