The Namibian 21 Feb 2013
Last year I dislocated my knee while visiting in Windhoek.
It happened while I was crossing the street on a Monday afternoon. This was an
old sport injury from my days of ice-skating, rollerblading and probably
further irritated by my recent bungee jumping. Thus it is something that I can
only blame on my carefree younger days without heeding the safety advice of my
elders.
A friend was with me at the time and called the emergency
number of the cellular network and we were quickly and efficiently helped to
get in contact with the hospital services. Within half an hour the ambulance
was there and I was transported to the Katutura State Hospital. Having heard so
many scare stories about the cleanliness - and lack of service – I was rather
worried about actually getting sick at the hospital.
However, I must loudly declare my fears were largely
unfounded. Of course the hygiene in the emergency room was rather scary –
especially for those of us who never land in such situations – but the service
was exceptional. I was helped within a reasonable period of time and was given
very good service by the doctor on duty. The trip to the Windhoek Hospital for
the X-rays was a little bit crowded, but nevertheless I received the necessary
treatment and examination.
The operation was the next day (as it was surgery day) and
all went well. I stayed for two weeks and received good, healthy meals and pain
medication almost every time I asked. The nurses were friendly and attentive
and I never felt neglected though I stayed in a public ward that had extra beds
in the corridor area.
When I was discharged, I received an account of only N$
30.00. Wow. Reasonable service, good price.
I must add to the story that my step mother was a Staff
Sister for many years at the hospital, and, on the last day of my stay, Andimba
ya Toivo visited my hospital bed. This however was not known upon my arrival or
during the initial part of my stay.
As a consumer we often complain about good service but
rarely compliment the good service when we get it. From the time of the
operation, the nurses made it a habit to stop at my bed and ask about my
recovery. When I left and thanked them for the good service and for being
patient with me – after all I am just as much a baby as any man when he is
sick.
The nurses then told me something that made me think. They
said it was a pleasure to have a patient like me. They had been overwhelmed
that from the first day I had greeted them every morning and every night and
gotten to learn their names. In addition, I had assisted one or two of them
with personal problems (housing applications) and even helped one of the
Sisters with her homework.
The nurses told me that when they found out my step-mother
had been a nurse it had no additional effect in how they treated me. They had
come to enjoy being told “please” when I wanted something and “thank you” every
time they gave me something or even when they just made my bed. They also noticed
how I had made friends with all my ward colleagues and shared my drinks and
presents with those who were far from home. As one nurse told me, “It is a
pleasure to help someone who appreciates what you do for them.”
It is their work to help us, but do we really appreciate the
long years of study and patience it takes to deal with all our impatience and
the stress we take out on them because they are “beneath us”?
All it takes is a little bit of good manners from each of us
to make this a better place to live in. Next time someone gives you something,
remember to say thank you. It is a habit that can only make your life better
too.
BTW – that is the story how I lost my front teeth while fallinand why I
now look like a Cape Coloured. LOL.
