I returned from the census training at Jema to the house this evening, I mean today 5th June 2021. On arrival I noticed my small boy laid on the sofa very weak and with burning hot body. I rebuked the mother for keeping him in that state at home and immediately took him to Kintampo Municipal hospital.
The mother dashed straight to the emergency ward with him while myself in that speed of lightening, arrived at the records area for his folder activation. I will in a few minutes have my boy quickly treated, I said to myself.
At the emergency consulting room, I met this fair guy who I over heard him spoke in kasim(grushi) on phone. Oh I have met a brother! I smiled and exchanged pleasantries with him.
Small boy how are you? He asked my small boy. Unfortunately, the little boy struggled to keep his head upright and would have no attention for even the loudest siren.
The young fair Physician assistant I believe, went straight to business. He examined the boy thoroughly and asked that his vitals be taking. The temperature was 39.1°c. Immediately he directed that the mother go for paracetamol suppositories to insert him. This was done almost immediately! We were asked to go to the hospital lab to carry out some tests.
In about 30 to 40 minutes of waiting, the results were finally ready. We had to pay Gh¢20 for the test, we were issued with receipt. We returned to the emergency consulting room but sadly the room was deserted. We waited for a while and one guy bulky and dark in complexion came.
He noticed we had been sitting there for awhile and so approached us to know what the issue was. We told our story. He with a worried face asked his colleagues around who was supposed to come for night duty, well I didn’t hear any clear response. Out of compassion, he assumed the doctors chair in the emergency consulting room and began to make calls. On phone he spoke in pidgin with another person on the other side, he described my boy’s condition to his friend on the phone and asked him what he should prescribe.
Well, in a few minutes of starring at the computer, my good friend the “forced doctor” was done and directed us to go for medication.
To cut the long story short, we were only given paracetamol syrup and another medicine written on prescription form for us to go and buy. I’m back to the house with my boy now managing his condition with wet towels and praying God intervene to heal my boy. End of story!
My experience today may not be the only case, several other people have to go back home very unsatisfied with the services they get at the municipal hospital. Only God knows how many of them have survived to the following day. Something urgent need to be done! Without that, the facility is fast loosing its value.