Treatment At The Far East Rand State Hospital In Springs South Africa Poem by Gert Strydom

On Sunday the 4th of September 2016 my mother,
a lady of eighty-three
who are a pensioner
was taken by ambulance
from a car accident
involving three vehicles
to the Far East Rand Hospital
at the border of Springs and Brakpan
in South Africa
where she arrived at nine o'clock
in the morning.

On arrival a black nursing sister
said to some other patients in casualties:
"you, and you and you
go through for treatment."

My mother said very politely:
"what about me? "
At which that sister mimicked her with:
‘what about me? "

The security officer told me to leave casualties
and I took it for granted that the nursing personnel
would assist my mother
who was in a wheel chair
and unable to walk by herself,
but this did never happen.

My mother had broken
her right leg in the accident,
both of her knees and her chest had been hurt,
she was forced to wait
for seven hours before a doctor
did see her.

She could not by herself go to the toilet,
I took her by a wheelchair
and I had to help her on and off
the white toilet
of which the seat was missing
of which there were only two toilets
available for the thousands of patients
and it was in a ghastly condition.

The nursing staff
of whom most are black
did not do any examination of my mother
and we were forced to wait
until after seven hours
I went to the black doctor
and asked him if he could not help her?

He was very polite,
asked her about where she was hurt,
said to her and to me:

"without vital signs I have got a unclear picture"
and he made it clear that the vital signs,
namely blood pressure, temperature, and heartbeat
have still to be taken by the nursing personnel.

My mother was worried about having hurt
her knees, breast, and right ankle
which the paramedic personnel
of the ambulance did bandaged
at the accident.

My mother told him
that she had a blackout
at the accident
and to include this fact in his report
but he was in a great hurry
and did not listen to her.

The doctor told us to get the vital signs taken
by the nursing personnel at Tri-Age
as it was their duty
and not his to do this.

To our delight the doctor
did write an order for her to be x-rayed
and did sent us off to the x-ray department.
We waited for another hour
before my mother was x-rayed.

The lady at the X-ray department
was very busy and very thoughtful
and when we finally had the x-rays
we had been at the hospital for eight hours.

The Tri-Age nurses were not in their office
and a row of patients were waiting on them,
when I got hold of one of them
it was clear that they were not
going to take the vital signs.

The other nurses in casualties
did not want to take the vital signs either.

We went to wait at the doctor's office
and he was busy with life and death
casualty work
and at six o'clock in the evening
he did return to his office

took a look at the X-rays
and I told him that the nursing personnel
do not want to take the vital signs.
The black doctor did examine the X-rays,
assessed that my mother's right leg
had been broken
just above the ankle
and he then send us to the
orthopaedic T2 section
in the casualties to get a back-slab
which I did understand to be some plaster of Paris.

As the doctor had again been called
to assist at a emergency situation
and just pointed me into the direction
of the orthopaedic T2 section,
I asked the nursing sister there
if they were doing back-slabs
she rudely told me that they were
but that we have got to
take our place in the row.

It had been just before six-thirty at night
and my mother who was very tired by now
politely asked the nursing sister
if she could return the following day
for the plaster of Paris,
at which the sister did ignore her.
She asked the sister again
at which the sister snapped,
said that she was busy with documentation
and is not the ward matron.

At seven o'clock
the nursing personnel at
the orthopaedic T2 section
told me to leave casualties
as they were doing the documentation,
I reasoned that they were giving over
to the night nursing personnel.

At half-past seven at night
I did return to where my mother was waiting.
One of the nursing personnel,
a black male nurse
had removed her wheel chair
and she sat on a blue bench
but was not able to move about.
Only the black doctor that had helped us
was at the orthopaedic T2 section
and I asked him
what had happened to the nursing personnel?

The doctor told me that the nurses was gearing up,
and that he by himself could do nothing
without the right equipment.

I had great difficulty to find another wheel chair
and finally found one
of which the backside had been broken
and at eight o'clock at night
the nursing personnel was still gearing up
and not present in the orthopaedic T2 section.

At half past eight a single nurse came to the
orthopaedic T2 section and start cleaning
away the bandages and other materials
left behind by the day personnel,
and my cousin got the nurse
to take her vital signs.

There were still eight people
waiting in line before us
and six of them were willing
to let my mother be treated before them
but the nurse was not willing to do so
even a young black man with a serious head wound
continually asked the nurse to treat my mother.

Some more serious casualties came in and were treated,
we waited while they did helped some of the black people
who were waiting in the row.

I went to talk to the doctor in the ward next to ours
who had been a European
and he told me that he was only doing
internal medicine
and he could not be of any help to us.

Two babies were treated while we still waited
and they both did cry without end,
one of them received stitches
and my mother said to me:

"Do these people feel nothing for people suffering with pain? "
At this time it was half-past eleven at night.
I asked her not to express her opinion
as we have already waited fourteen and a half hours
and I am sure that this is because the nursing personnel
are acting in a racist way.

The single nurse who had been treating the people
did leave her post and there was nobody treating anyone
at the orthopaedic T2 section.

For fourteen and a half hours me and my mother
had been praying every now and then
that the Lord would help us
and now we were praying
that someone would give her
the plaster of Paris,
so that we would be able
to leave the hospital.

A white male sister did overhear our Afrikaans conversation
and walked away to the ward next to ours.

Immediately a black nurse came from the other ward,
walked right up to us, wheeled my mother
into the treatment area, took the file from me,
started to administer the plaster of Paris
and we followed her
to where she gave us medicine for pain
which was only Panado,
a very weak painkiller
and we left the Far East Rand Hospital
at twelve o'clock at night
after being there for fifteen hours.