domingo, 23 de junho de 2013

The day that President Dilma in 10 minutes spat in the face of 370,000 Brazilian doctors - by Juliana Mynssen

"A few months ago I made a call that I cried. Did not tell anyone (it's not easy to share it on social media). I, surgeon-general, 'trauma' medical 'nag' governess 'witch', which carry the car's manual surgical American military team that met in Afghanistan, I cried.
In the front room of the suture had an elderly patient admitted. A chair. With serum from a nail on the wall similar to that hold plants (say: ferns). Beside him, his son. Well dressed. With speaking slowly, calm and polite. Like me. Like you. Like us. Wondered the possibility of admission of his father on a stretcher, which was no more than a day in the chair. Faint. Waited, waited and every time I opened the little door of the suture he was there. Waiting. Like me. Like you. Like us. There was a moment he collapsed. Knelt on the ground, began to cry, looked at me and said 'it's not for me but for my father, a stretcher.' How would I do. Like you. Like us. I thought 'meudeusdocéu with all who pass here, I just ... Noooo ..... Because if you cry I cry, talk of his father I cry, if you give me a challenge'll fight 5 to get him out. '

And I left, I cried, I came back, fought and placed on a stretcher removed from the female ward.
I've taken my father to take my HU. The endoscopist was when I learned that my father said 'why do not you tell me, took in private, Juliana!' We need not believe in people who work with me. I was taught and still teach. Trust. My brother needed and took him there. All our doctors are public hospitals that we know, and if we do not use anymore, is because public institutions lack. And suffer from lack of beds, equipment, materials and medicines.
Once I made a surgical risk and harvested blood in my university hospital. In the office of a teacher he asks me: 'And do you trust?'.
'If trust for my patients have to trust me.'
I practice medicine. She steps on me a few days, it hurts me, get sleep, give wrinkles, tears, but I still believe in medicine. Makes me better. Learn, grow, makes me human. If you have debts, pay them well. I do it because I believe.

In these last days of street protests and the media fight for a better country. Less corrupt. Transparent. Less populist. With more quality. With more stretchers. Hospitals with better, more equipment and medicines are not lacking. A SUS best. Fought by the son of the patient kneeling. For all my patients. For me. For you. For us. The NHS is ours. I have no words to describe what I think of 'President' Rousseff. (A figure that proclaims 'the president' no longer deserves my attention).
But today, for me, for you, for my patient in the chair, I heard.
The hearing heard saying that 'the people of the Brazilian democratic'. Heard that we want education, health and safety qualities. 'Quality' ... She said.
And said he will import doctors to improve the health of Brazil ...
To improve the quality ...?
Mrs. 'President', I'm a medical quality. My parents are medical quality. My teachers are medical quality. My college friends. My colleagues on duty. Brazilian doctor is quality.
Their hospitals is that they are not. Your SUS does not have quality. Your government does not have quality.
The day that Mrs. 'President' open a record in UPA, is admitted to a state hospital, get a remedy in line SUS and say that this is quality, then we'll talk.
Do not spit in my face, do not step on my diploma. I do not blame your incompetence.
We are almost 400 000, do not offend. Tomorrow I'm on call, open a record, I'll take it. Do not delay, do not. Doctors abound, but do not guarantee that you have nowhere to sit. After all, the chair is a priority of the internees.
Today, I cried again.

Juliana Mynssen is medical in Rio de Janeiro.

Picture: Playing Internet

Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário

Obrigada por sua participação em meu blog!