Is my country worth dying for?

40 years and counting working for the government selflessly my mother tells me out of the blue that it is not worth dying for this nation. I was shocked initially to hear this coming from a woman who has raised and still is raising both her biological and non biological children to love and respect their country.  In all my years never had I heard her say such a thing about the country.  I immediately disagreed with her mentally not saying a word to her in reply but silently disagreed with her.  She continued by saying, someone pockets millions of dollars/cedis meant for a project which never takes off and subsequently does  not  to account for it and the project never starts or is completed.  The person continues life as nothing happens and is given another appointment when there is a change in government whereas the ordinary person seeking for the right thing remains exactly where they are if not worse off.

I have worked for the public sector for less than 10 years most of which were “semi sheltered” in a sense that I really could not tell what was going on outside my consulting room but in recent times I have been exposed to a few realities.

The first episode of such shocking revelations was when I was a new medical officer in a public hospital coming on a shift to find out that the doctor who had come in the shift prior to me had a draw in the office where each patient had to place a specific amount of money before being taken care of.  This was shocking to me and when I mentioned it to another colleague; they just brushed it off saying “everyone knew about that…it was old news”.  I was shocked and asked if management knew about this and I was told yes but nothing was being done about it. Obviously, this continued until he was moved elsewhere to continue.

In other instances, an individual misappropriates funds of a department and is not sacked but moved to another department and as expected the same thing would happen again, old habits die hard right?  But a loss is occurring here. 

What about the medical personnel who comes to work at 10am and is out of the hospital at 1pm to go to his or her private hospital, but is being paid by the government for an 8-5pm job.  No one reprimands him or her and at times patients who want to seek their medical attention would have to go to their private clinics. The hospital administration tolerates this perhaps because they do not have enough medical personnel and so would have to tolerate such acts.  Is this right? Well, one may argue that…no I  can not get a reason to counter this.

A pharmacist working in a government facility directs patients to their private pharmacy to purchase medications instead of buying them at the government hospital. Or drugs which are sold at the government hospital are the personal property of the pharmacist.  A pharmacist in a government hospital would only purchase medications from a company after a percentage has been paid to them.

Nurses would not come to work early to take up from their colleagues, however if they were working in other countries or in the private sector, they would arrive on time or prior to their scheduled time of work.

These are just a few or a tip of the iceberg of inappropriate incidents which occur in the public sector making life difficult for the few who want to make things worthwhile at their workplaces. 

For me my take is this:

The country is worth dying for, but only if the right thing is done and people are made to account for the work they are employed to do.  There should be supervisory roles in place with checks and balances ensuring that everyone employed would follow the rules and regulations and would be held responsible for everything under their watch.

Journey To the West: The Ghanaian Patient

Journey To the West: The Ghanaian Patient: I heard a few stories about my grandfather (from my mother) who was a pharmacist in the city I now reside in. They were few but facinating ...

The Ghanaian Patient

I heard a few stories about my grandfather (from my mother) who was a pharmacist in the city I now reside in.  They were few but facinating stories, ones which constantly resound were the ones which in which my mother would tell me about people who were ill and came to his drug store to get drugs but however could not afford them. My grandfather would pay for the drugs which they came to buy and then top it up by giving them money for transport and at times additionally some money for food.
To me hearing this at a young age, I thought it was the most outrageous story I had ever heard about anybody in  any line of business.  This is what i thought. If you come to my shop and you can not purchase any thing i have in stock, you go back empty handed or go back and top up whatever money you brought and come back and purchase the drug.
Thats how things work right? That is how we make our profits and expand our businesses.
I was never priviledged to meet him as he died a decade before i was born.  He was a very successful person and was survived by 17 children (that is another story).
Now working in the same health field as he did, I completely understand him and I am proud to know this about him.
Moving to this new region to work made me realise that poverty is rife in the country we live in and thousands of people go to bed daily without food or knowing when the next meal is coming up.  For me I think those worse off are those who have illness in which they have to eat before they take thier medications.
Just to place emphasis on this let me side track by introducing you to one such illness, diabetes mellitus. 
This is a condition in which a person has abnormally high levels of sugar in the blood due to the body's inability to either produce a hormone insulin which is under normal circumstances takes the sugar in the blood into the cells in order to produce energy.  Also the sugar levels in the body could also be as a result of the insulin being produced by the body but ineffective to take the sugar into the cells for energy to be made.
The penultimate result is that the presence of abnormally high levels of sugar in blood is deadly. It leads to destuction of the eyes, nerves, heart and blood vessels.
Drugs one takes when they have diabetes would either increase levels of the hormone insulin in the body or stimulate the insulin in the body to work properly.  So taking the drugs would resulting in lowering your abnormally high blood sugar.  The twist to this is that if the blood sugar comes down drastically it results in more sudden death.  So a patient with diabetes is expected to eat and take their medications or else they would die if they take their medications and do not eat.
Madam Adoma is 65years old and lives in a village in the outskirts of the city in which i work.  she missed her last appointment to the clinic 2 weeks ago and came to the hospital with an abnormally high blood glucose and had run out of medications.  When questioned, she told me her story; she lives alone in her hut with no electricity or pipe water.  With no children or grandchildren living close by or even sending remitances to her, she relies on the benevolence of her neighbours.  She does not always have a meal to each daily and when she gets a little bit of money she saves it for either food or some for transport back to the hospital for review.  She is very cautious about taking her medications because when she takes some of them and she does not eat she is found collapsed by her neighbours and this has resulted in some hospital emergency visits.  Because of this she does not take her medications when she does not know when her next meal would be available.
So now sitting infront of me crying about her situation what do i do?  She needs medications for her diabetes, but she has no source of income to buy food, let alone get transportation to and from the clinic for her 2-monthly reviews at the diabetic clinic.  Taking her medications without food would kill her immediately whereas not taking the medications and living with the abnormally high levels of diabetes would also kill her, but a little bit more slowly.
So what would one do when faced with this situation, well my grandfather did what he could do?  I ask myself daily what do.  This is because, this is not an isolated situation.  Not numerous, but enough to make you think twice when you take things for granted, things like food, shelter and clothing. 

My concluding lines were initially going to send a few harsh tones to the colour coded nationals of the country who every 4 years come and make questionable promises to the people of this country whilst the realities of life are ignored.  Instead I woEdit HTMLuld dedicate this piece to my maternal Grandfather Abban who was dedicated in helping the ill and poor in whatever way he could, but died at a very early age.

Dont Wish this on your worst Enemy

Working in the medical sector has opened doors for me, some which i wish had occurred earlier in life. Others which i wish did not exist.
A couple of months i was called to the emergency room to help out a little girl who had been knocked down by a motor cycle and had a fracture of her leg. I found out the she was a refugee living on a camp with here mother. she was crossing a main road when the cycle knocked her down. A 6 year old girl (Marie) but one brave one. she was in so much pain but not crying.  The nurses in the emergency room had managed to stop the bleeding and we transferred her to her ward.  Her mother(Amy) was with her, but spoke no word of English, so i struggled to communicate with her but managed to get some assurance for her about her daughter's condition.  A medical doctor was with them from the camp, he also was a refugee fleeing the war zone accompanying them to as he was fluent in English.  After the Marie settled down the good Samaritans who were with her went back to their homes and left the mother to take care of her child.  she had to sleep next to her and wait for the orthopaedic surgeon to come and manage.  After 2 weeks in the hospital, Marie was discharged back to the camp with a plaster of paris (POP).  less than a week later i received a call that Marie was back in the hospital with another fracture (doctors did not know if it was an old one or a new one had happened).  This time it required surgery to prevent shortening of her leg.  The hospital did not charge any money for treatment during the last visit due to the refugee status, however in this instance money was required as implants were required to be inserted.  The money was obtained from the international refugee agency after about 1 month in hospital and then surgery was done.  In total Marie spent about 9 weeks in the hospital bed not mobile sometimes with a heavy load on her leg to keep it in place.  All this time her mother Amy was with her.  She had no income of her own and had to rely on the benevolence of other patients and their relatives for food.  She cried so many times watching her daughter and being helpless in a strange country with no means of support.  Her husband was in their country, he did not leave their home country.  He came to visit a couple of times, but was not having enough money to help out.  Back in their home country, he said their house and belonging had been destroyed and he was now lodging with friends near a sea port and trying best to make ends meet.  If Marie was discharged, there was no way she could return to her home country as they had nothing to go home to.  To make things more difficult, Marie had a little sister who was still in being taken care of by their dad back home.
Finally Marie was discharged back to the camp but she needs to come for review by the doctor in 2 months.  she can not go back to her home country for now with her mother Amy because she has no home to go to.  If she returns to her home country, she would need to come back to our hospital for review by her doctor in 2 months.  This would be impossible. Amy has no work and going back to the camp where food is in not adequate and life is hard there due to the lack of proper amenities would be difficult for the next 2 months.  She wishes she had some money to start a trade.  Back in her home country she traded in clothes which her husband brought from his business trips.  She still has not being able to pick up either the local language or English which makes things more difficult for her.  How is she going to survive for the next couple of months?

Have you ever being to a refugee camp? Can you imagine life in a country with strange languages, people and food. Sharing basic or unavailable amenities with strangers though your own country people and not knowing when you are going to get back to you normal life again?
This is just one story of many, it is not an easy thing to be a refugee.  Think about it, if you had to leave your home and your country at this point in time, what would you take with you? (mind you you're going to be walking till you reach some where safe)  Look around your room right now.
Living in a refugee camp is also another thing to deal with.  I met 2 medical doctors who were now refugees at the camp and it was just a sad story listening to them and their encounters during the war.  One of them initially refused to leave when the war started and was still in the hospital taking care of patients until one day he was told that the hospital was going to be attacked so he had to run away after he had sent his family away. So he joined a group of people who were walking to the border after gathering a few of is possessions and registered on the camp.  At the camp as for everyone else he was given a tent to share with 4 other strangers.  He was given some cereal, oil, blanket, soap and toilet paper and asked to get on with life. For him there was hope as in the formal sector and him having plans to get back to work he was daily visiting the internet cafe to communicate with friends and family.  I lost touch with him after 2 months of him being in the camp but I thank God that a week ago i got a call from him that he had returned to his home country and was well.  The phone line was terrible and i was busy at work so i was not able to talk for long.  But I am glad he has successfully returned to his home country safe (and sound).
War is no respecter of persons like death or refugee status.  Its a tough life to deal with and I can not tell if the parents suffer more than the children when this happens.
There are so many stories to share, and I will do so to enlighten us and anyone who decides to pick up a gun and fight against authority leaving others to suffer.
My final thoughts at this point in time is that let us not spend money jailing or placing persons who commit war offense into exile wasting the country's monies on their care.  Send them to refugee camps to live that life for the rest of their lives and believe me they could never think about committing such a crime again.  Before you go supporting any politician by picking up a gun remember that when push comes to shove, he would send his family out of his country enjoying luxuries whilst you and many other people who have supported His cause are faced with a life as a stranger in a foreign land.

Journey To the West: Living and loving the medical profession

Journey To the West: Living and loving the medical profession: "I for one believe that the medical profession is a calling. May be one may define it in another way. I love the work I do, despite the many..."

Living and loving the medical profession

I for one believe that the medical profession is a calling. May be one may define it in another way.  I love the work I do, despite the many fustrations I go through day in and out. It still has its perks.
Every patient who comes to my desk i think was destined to see me and I believe that God made it such. When in the consulting room and there are many doctors I always believe that the patient who went to the other doctor would be seen better than if he/she had come to me.
I'm not superstitious. well thats what i always say to myself but you'll never see me pass under a ladder. haha
In the hospital where I work, patients come to the clinic very early in the morning and wait for hours for the doctors and other staff to come in. Some patients sleep at lorry stations to get in early because of the long journey to the hospital. Its a sad situation, but a reality, patients would then spend so much time looking for their folders and then join a queque to see the medical personnel.  Then trek either to the pharmacy and or the laboratory to either get their drugs or have their blood samples taken.  If unfortunately they have to have a radiological examination e.g. X-ray or an ultrasound done, they may have to climb 99 horendous steps (thats is another story).
There are the medical staff who decide to slip either their relatives or friends into the clinic much to the displeasure of the long waiting patients and to the annoyance of the staff at the clinic.  This is a practice which is being discouraged.  It is not a right practise as I believe that everyone should be seen based on the time they presented to the clinic.  This i know has made be quite unpopular with some, so they instead send these patients to other doctors (who are not in my clinic) which is fine by me, because , i am not there to run a private clinic, the Government pays me to take care of the general populace.
I do love working in the public domain, you meet loads of people who make you smile and unfortunately loads more who would make you sad.
There are the patients who never answer your questions and would rather give you various irrelevant answers and those who would not say a word then when you are about to rush them out, then they come up with a list of problems which happened about a year ago.

I love working in Takoradi, I love the language (the frequent nzema or ahanta patient makes me want to quickly get a tutor in those languages) the ability to speak in the local language makes things easy for both patients and staff.  With the Ivorian crises, there are also a number of french speaking patients making consultation longer than usual.  The region has a lot to offer and there is so much potential here to develop and offer more services to the people in this region.
I have not been able to travel to many areas in the region, but i hope to do so though I have been told of the lack of good roads to various communities.  I feel like such a novice here and i'm yearning to explore.
I am often asked when i am heading back to the national capital Accra, my answer for now is i'm settled here until God changes my path.
I've got morning smells of cocoa and the sea port of Takoradi to deal with daily, so what would push me anywhere else.

Introduction

I have been thinking about making a journal for a while now. Today i decided to get started.

It has been entitled Journey to the West, representing my change of location from the capital city of Accra, Ghana to the twin city of the Western region, Sekondi-Takoradi.
This is to share my experiences with the rest of the world about things that go on in this little part of the world which may interest others and how we can each in our own corner help to make a difference no matter how small our resources may be.
It is going to be a twice weekly blog, or sometimes daily based on the ins and happenings to me and more importantly the time i would have available.

As a means of introduction, I am a health professional who was transferred to the Western Region after working for about 5 years post my medical school education in the capital city of Accra.
Moving to this region has made me more aware of the things that living in the capital city we take for granted.
Meeting the people in this region and experiencing the culture has been the best and continues to be the best.
The first blog will be posted later in the day.
I hope you enjoy these posts and feel free to comment