There is nothing at all. Everything is scarce in the public health system in my country. Resources become harder to distribute every day. The Russian roulette of deciding who lives and who dies already exists.
I face all those problems daily, and although I know my superiors are the ones who should be looking for solutions for the supplies, I try to use the bare minimum on each patient. Not to look good with the bosses, but so that there's something left for the other patients who may come.
Just a few days ago I performed a continuous epidural, which is basically an anesthetic technique where a very fine catheter is placed in the epidural space to administer anesthesia to a specific region of the body. The explanation is longer but I don't want you to stop reading with so many technicalities.
The patient was operated on for breast cancer. Normally we do this surgery with general anesthesia, but to save medications I attempted the technique I mentioned above, successfully.
Result?
It was not necessary to intubate the patient, nor to subject her to powerful hypnotics. Of course, far fewer drugs were used and pain control was exquisite. The patient went to the ward happy, and with the good news that she could eat as soon as she got there (normally several hours are waited before starting a diet after general anesthesia).
All good, I said to myself.
I was happy too. It was the first time I had done this technique for breast surgery. My colleagues congratulated me, since as I said, it's not common for it to be done.
The bucket of cold water came later, when the anesthesiologists' collective requested certain legal guarantees in order to continue providing service, because even when savings are made, everything is still reaching zero.
How did the bosses respond?
With repression. Apparently we don't have enough with the calamities of our government, or with Trump's hostile policy. Also from the local level, we are trampled on. The indicators must be met even though the crisis is severe, and it is impossible to keep working as before.
I'm tired. I swear. It comforts me that soon I'll be working in another hospital. Far away from my home province. I'll go to the capital. My wife is already waiting for me there. There are a few months left but I already feel like that day is here.
It's not that the bosses there think less about meeting indicators, but they are more aware of how far exploitation can go. Forgive me for venting here, but I needed a breather and, if possible, your advice.
English isn't my native language.Text translated with Deepseek