Turbat, Baluchistan! When I gaze at the place beneath whose heart lays the memories of my eternity and the nostalgia of those memories give me goosebumps.
Though, I am not yet far away from Turbat, but the suffering that it goes through from day to day squeeze my soul to the deepest saddening glooms.
It is perhaps true that one must suffer in order to awaken the true essences of thoughts, modernism, liberty, literacy and health, but when the suffering exceeds to a point of suffocation; the only way to breathe is open up a space for something more hygienic to pass by.
One of those sufferings is the despair held in the hopes to have better health services. Inside the heart of Turbat establishes “Civil Hospital” a salvation to the people of nearby urban areas and a hope for the villages like Mand, Tump, Dasht, Kulwa, Shahrak etc not so far away.
People with elite background and wealth may find a second shot to go forth private hospitals, but for the poor class; Civil Hospital is a last hope of a lasting soul.
One can find about 50/60 patients from Turbat and the places nearby on constant basis. There is hardly ever a solitary room in the civil hospital, despite the fact that Kech Hospital and Baloch hospital (two major sources of help and private hospitals) are in Turbat. This is the sole authentic answer that poverty always prevents itself to go beyond its limitations of cost.
At the government facility, in morning Outpatient Department (OPD) there are 8 doctors on 5 hour shift each, OPD evening has hence forth the same number of doctors; among whom are dentist, child specialist and surgeons. However, there are several unending lists of the experts who no doubt are professionals at their very best when it comes to their skills.
During a visit a female patient quoted: “one cannot call them careless and one cannot call them people with the highest pleasures in their duties either”. This was explanation that the patient aged 46, diagnosed with heart disease gave.
The hospital does have the facilities like full equipped operation theaters and waiting area before one enters but everything is in vain when by the end of the day the patient has to wait until the doctors arrive. Usually they come two hours after their shifts begin and this wait could be a death to the ones with a severe ailment.
Very few among them have sense of duty and are present at the needed times, whereas some do not turn up entire duty time, during the night shift and in emergency wards when people need the brightest light to brighten their dark gloom nights.
This leads them in a crisis of hope and despair and within this calculation that the specialist may arrive sooner or later, lives fade away and patients keep getting in more pain.
To be the witness my eyes themselves acquire a greater advantage to behold the truth that the health department holds. They are a source to unleash a whole truth of how the health department emerges to be and constantly is retreating with rapidity.
The ratio of deaths and patients travelling to seek consultations outside Turbat is increasing.
The request is to all the specialists (who are acknowledged with the fact that they are one of the main reasons of a retreating health facilities) to possibly keep on impacting humanness and be a little more concerned than they are at the moment.
Turbat is not mainly a city to be kept beautiful and preserved, it is a source of aspiration to those who seek privilege in coming for a concern. I believe a doctor breaking an expectation is like a grim welcoming nearer. The more the sense of duty, the further the grim and the ceasing of the unhealthiness that surrounds one.
