Thursday, June 12, 2008

Invisible tragedies

Sarah has updated the blog the last few times, so I wanted to let everyone know that the I in this post me, Ron. I had an experience last week that I would like to share.

Last week, I was introduced, in person, to the unbelievable plight of "patient prisoners". These are former patients who were admitted to the hospital for often life-saving healthcare, but due to their inability to pay the bill, are kept hostage by the hospital until they find the money. If their families do not bring them food, the hospital feeds them just enough to keep them alive. Of course, this malnourishment often leads to the patients' getting some other sort of sickness. Patients can be confined to their hospital beds for months on end while family members raise the funds or the government finally intervenes.

One woman I met had been in the hospital for 3 months, and choked up as she spoke of her 7 year old son who has been fending for himself all this time in their home out in the country. Another man had been sliced across the face with a machete when someone robbed him in his home. The hospital saved his life, but since he had been robbed, he had no money to pay. The combined bill of these two patients? Not more than $600 US.

A particularly motivated young woman back in the U.S. read about this phenomenon (yes, I can't think of anything else to call it), and decided to raise money and send it here to free as many of these patients as possible. I got to tag along on Thursday as this money was put to use and 12 patient prisoners were freed (as well as bus fare for their journeys home). The social worker who manages these patients was overjoyed to be able to deliver good news, for once.

To be fair, this issue has more sides than I have presented in this post, but we know there has to be a better way. In a culture where there is no credit mechanism, no sense of "I'll buy now but pay later", the hospital's resources would quickly be exhausted (and wouldn't be any good to anyone) if it didn't have some way to make people pay. But I have to ask where the sense of humanity got lost in this process? Aren't we all brothers and sisters?

After getting over the initial shock, then grief, from the stories we heard, I was able to rejoice when I saw the faces of those whom we were able to free. My joy was shortlived, however, when I was told that this hospital was one of the three in Bujumbura, and that the patient prisoner phenomenon is by no means unique to Burundi. I had to remind myself that 12 people, who laid in their bed every morning and saw no end to their situation, are home with their families now, where they belong.

One of the patients lying in her bed.


A 73-year-old man tells us his story.


Nestor, a member of the Batwa. His wife and one of his sons was staying at the hospital with him. The other was alone at home.


Nestor as he hears the news that he is going home today. This picture was no mistake; his eyes remained closed for a good long while in relief.


There were so many kids running around the hospital, I couldn't help but take a picture or two.



Grace and peace.
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1 comment:

  1. I had read about this on Kelley's blog a few days ago. In fact Donna was visiting me when I had Kelley's screen up. She has told the story of the patient prisoners several times in the last few days. How do we make a difference there? how can the hospitals help and have hope of payment so they can continue? how can the people be reunited with their families after health care? are there churches in the U.S. looking for ministries that would send regular funds to belay this practice?

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