I couldn't help but envy him. There he was, lying sick on the hospital bed, recovering from surgery he underwent a day earlier. He was surrounded not only by his relatives and children, but also by in-laws, nephews, nieces and a continuous stream of visitors, though only a few stayed at one time, so as not to overcrowd the room.
The Sema Hospital in Maltepe, where he was staying, was a private hospital with excellent service. True, they had postponed his surgery at the last minute, which greatly angered us. Nonetheless, the service somehow made up for that. On the day he was admitted I thought the room was gorgeous. It had everything: an LCD flat-screen TV, a mini-fridge, couches, a wardrobe, a big bathroom, and a window with a beautiful view of İstanbul. A new private hospital with 5-star-hotel accommodation -- one can't ask for more. I think the nurse must have come to his room almost every 15 minutes to ask whether he needed anything at all. The staff was very helpful, with smiling faces all around.
The second day, they transferred him to a suite. Wow! I couldn't stop gasping with surprise. This time, the room was even bigger. And connecting to the main room was another room the size of the room that he previously occupied. Everything was doubled: two closets, a double bathroom, two TVs, and many, many more couches. This was, after all, an A-group private hospital. True, it was not as massive as the Acıbadem Hospital, which is even more sophisticated, but when you are being treated with sincere warmth and a smile, you can't help but feel comfortable. My father-in-law even felt so well taken care of that he decided to extend his stay at the hospital. This is something that should be an example for other hospitals. It was truly wonderful customer service.
Looking at Baba (my father-in-law) and at the comfort he was in despite his sickness, my mind suddenly flashed back to the first time I went to a hospital in İstanbul, eight years ago. Unlike Baba, I went to a public hospital. I was not used to the Turkish environment at all and I had a kidney infection.
When we went to one of the local public hospitals, I was shocked to see rows of people waiting to see a doctor. Many were running around with papers from door to door, counter to counter. There were queues upon queues to get signatures from this person and that. It seemed that there was so much red tape to just get a simple medical check-up that I was confident that by the time that sick person finished all the necessary paperwork, he would have fainted -- or worse! Maybe they should faint to get faster medical service? After all, if one faints, there will be plenty of doctors around. It was totally overcrowded and terribly unsystematic, which is very unlike the health system I was used to in Malaysia. So much red tape, it was a nightmare!
I couldn't imagine myself as one of those people. It was totally suffocating. That was then. When I asked my sister-in-law (who is trained as a doctor) about the situation now, she said everything is even worse. Public hospitals are more overcrowded than ever, particularly in İstanbul. Recently a system has been introduced in which patients are given numbers to indicate their place in the queue (just like when you wait for your queue at the bank). I assume that this is the only logical thing to do these days, since the number of patients is increasing daily. With such crowds, it is beyond my comprehension how the doctors and hospital staffs cope with their jobs.
There are other things about the Turkish public hospitals that put me in awe. When my husband's uncle was very sick, the hospital called the family asking for three pints of blood. The family, panicked and thinking that the uncle had some sort of internal bleeding, rushed to donate the blood. It appeared as though the hospital had asked for the blood so they could sell it to cover expenses. This is a question of morality. How can someone in such a trusted position lie and play with emotions like this. Wouldn't it be easier for the hospital to simply talk openly with the family and say that they need money to cover expenses? Trust me, the family would much rather pay the money than go through all the anxiety.
Another incident occurred when one of the family's nephews was in surgery. While the family was waiting for the surgery to finish, a member of the hospital staff came and asked for a surgeon's suture and needle. Can you imagine how that felt, no suture and needles while the child was in surgery? The uncles of course rushed from one pharmacy to another, looking for the requested material. With great difficulty, they found the items and brought them to the hospital, thinking that the hospital needed them immediately. It was only later that they discovered the items the hospital had asked for were to cover the thread and needles that the surgeons used during the surgery. Again, where is the morality?
I am not saying that every public hospital is bad. I am just citing the incidents that our family has dealt with. This does not necessarily represent the whole public health system (though it may be true for the overcrowded İstanbul public hospitals). That I leave to real Turks to decide.
I remember a time when my husband was in great pain. We were in our summer home in Sapanca. My hubby and I rushed to the hospital in Adapazarı. We went to the emergency entrance. I was impressed by the efficiency of the hospital staff. Within half an hour, my hubby had gone through several tests and we discovered that he had stone in his kidney. I certainly didn't expect such efficiency especially from such a small public hospital.
Now what about private hospitals? There are 150 private hospitals throughout İstanbul. Are they any better than public hospitals? Certainly, there are fewer crowds in private hospitals, since the costs are so much more (depending of the grade of the hospital). Unlike public hospitals, the private sector health system works on an appointment system. There is a staff specially set aside for managing appointments. It is much more systematic, of course. And there is less waiting. Comfort is the name of the game. The luxury of the stay is beyond description -- if you are willing to pay more, of course. Some A-group hospitals are even more luxurious than some five-star hotels. But then, not all private hospitals are in the A group. Some private hospitals have only 10 beds.
So what is the conclusion here? Are all public hospitals bad and all private hospitals good? My sister-in-law says she strongly believes that the quality of doctors in the public hospitals in general is higher since the doctors are working not for the money but for the love of their profession. The doctors in the private hospitals are much more focused on the money. Then again, this is not true of all doctors in the private sector. There are, naturally, good doctors there, too. Who are we to question who is a good doctor and who is not?
Doctors -- both public and private -- take a vow to save lives when they enter the profession. It is their responsibility to do their best in the profession and not be blinded by money. The Ministry of Health should do something about the system in the public hospitals so that the red tape can be decreased. Perhaps the people who set the rules in the public health sector should try lining up in one of their own queues someday. After all, if these people are sick, they will have plenty of money to receive treatment from a plenty private hospital. As a leaders elected to serve the people, one should definitely understand the people first. This I know for certain is the recipe for a good leader.
03.12.2007
SIMAH ZAİM İSTANBUL
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