Fwd: [BJP News]: The man who saved lives

[Guest guest]

>OFBJP Admin

>vaidika1008 (AT) hotmail (DOT) com >[bJP News]: The man who saved lives

>Tue, 30 Jan 2001 10:44:25 -0500 > >Title: The man who saved lives: Dr

Gyaneshwar Rao >Author: Rediff Special >Publication: Rediff >january 30,

2001 > > This is a story about the battle between the human will to survive and

nature's > destructive instinct. Dr Gyaneshwar Rao is a well-known surgeon in

Bhuj. After reading > how he saved many score lives the day the earthquake

struck, you have little doubt who > the winner is in the fight between man and

nature. > > I have lived in Bhuj since 1987. This is the city of unambitious

people. It is so small that > everyone knows everyone. On January 26, I was

playing badminton when the > unexpected earthquake shook us. Unexpected because

I have built a bungalow and > hospital here and no authority ever told me to be

careful. My friend and architect > Kumtekar did prevail on me not to build a

basement because he said Bhuj is in a seismic > zone. I have been associated

with 20 institutions in Bhuj, but no one ever discussed this, > not even any of

the collectors posted here. > > No one can ever accurately describe what we

experienced on Friday morning. It was > frightening, sickening. For many

moments the tremors did not stop. I screamed again and > again, "Oh God, why

don't you stop?" Dhadak,dhadak... Buildings were crashing down > and a

monstrous cloud of dust covered the city. My father described it correctly. He

said > it was like a huge plane landing right on your head. > > When I came

out, Bhuj was dead. That was the worst > 15 minutes of my life. I drove home

and saw my > family. My wife Alka and daughter were searching for > me. They

were crying. All five of us hugged each > other and cried. > > I thought of my

patients and rushed to the hospital. I > gave someone a lift. Believe me, I

don't know who sat > next to me. My senses were numbed. My staff were > smart

-- they had led all the patients out onto the road. > Thus, they were saved.

When I arrived, one of my staffers said, "Sir, forget it (my > hospital). It's

gone." I met Dr Mahadev Patel, we hugged and cried. > > Someone shook me and

asked, "Doctor, tamhe dhila thasho to kem chalshe? (How can > you lose heart?)

" That resident of Bhuj asked me to act. I was not prepared. I said, > "What

can I do? Let us go to the general hospital." He said, "Don't you know? It's

gone. It > has collapsed." I was speechless. I looked around for my

stethoscope. > > People started arriving outside where my hospital had stood.

In 10 minutes, there were > 100 patients. This was around 9.30 am. All of them

had multiple injuries. Someone's > intestine had burst, some had broken hands,

others came with broken legs. All of them > needed surgery as soon as possible.

I instantly took one correct decision, don't ask me > how. I asked the injured

to follow me to the Jubilee ground. All hell then broke loose. I am > still

amazed that in 10 minutes so many injured people got to know that medical help

was > available on Jubilee ground. > > In that mad rush so many good doctors of

Bhuj were around, but for the first few hours I > was the only surgeon. People

started jostling to catch my attention. I requested two of > the patients's

relatives to flank me for my protection. I did not have any injections. I was >

helpless. I did not have needle and thread either. > > Do you know what I did? I

shook the patients. With affection, I told them to get out of the > trauma. I

shouted: "Breathe deeply! Breathe deeply!" There were so many serious cases. >

So many people were dead! Ninety per cent of them had head injuries. I asked

people to > help. I asked one young man to break into a chemist's shop and get

syringes, glucose > bottles, needle and thread. I told him not to worry, that I

would take the blame. > > He got some supplies, but hardly much. Get medicines,

I screamed. When I shouted > again, people got courage. I got what I wanted. It

was around 9.40 am. I realised the > magnitude of the problem and knew that what

I was doing was not enough. In an hour, > patients from Anjar arrived, many with

serious injuries. Dr Patel, Dr P N Acharya, Dr > Pujara and Dr Bharat Joshi had

joined me by then. I wanted to operate. I was > desperate.The city had

collapsed, and not a single operation theatre was available. > > I asked my

colleague Bharat Chothani to rush to my hospital and bring the operation kit. I

> asked patients's relatives to get me red tiles, sheets of wood and cardboard

to put > patients's limbs in plaster. I asked someone to get Menanitol. I used

pieces of shawls, > shirts and sarees as bandages. When one patient complained

of bleeding I tore his > headgear and tied it tightly around his thigh. > > One

man rushed to me with a girl in his hands. "Doctor," he said, "please treat her

> first." I thought the girl was dead. The father wanted my confirmation of

that fact. "Be > quick doctor. If she is dead, then let me rush to look for my

wife in the debris of my > home." > > He was in deep shock, emotionless. I told

him, "Just keep her in our care and run for > your wife." He left, leaving his

daughter's dead body in our custody. > > The most traumatic thing for me that

day was when I had to ask relatives to take the > quickest possible decision --

to allow me to save a life by cutting off an injured limb. I > was rough. I

normally don't behave like that, and I am sorry. I knew every third patient >

personally. They would scream at me, "Doctor, why don't you look at my leg?

Don't you > recognise me?" > > For the first few hours I only had one needle. I

told Dr Bharat Joshi to hold that needle. It > was the most valuable thing I

had. My colleagues arranged patients in such a manner > that I could stitch

three patients at one go. Hundreds of patients were lying on the open > ground.

With a needle, thread and a pair of scissors, I started suturing. I was shouting

at > the patients, "Don't cry. Keep quiet." Around us, the noise level was so

high. People > were screaming in pain, relatives crying in anguish. > > I must

have sutured 150 patients that day. By 11 am, the home guards arrived, then >

came member of Parliament Pushpdan Gadhvi. I finally got a table; I asked for a

tent. > Once they were in place I started operating. Again, it was a hard time.

With only a pair of > scissors I had to cut off a leg or arm of many patients.

I did it to save lives. Other doctors > tied the bandages. By 3 pm, I had 5

tables and lots of medical help. > > Harish Thakkar, who has a food stall on

the footpath opposite the bus stand, asked if he > could help. I said, "get me

a gas stove and a huge utensil to boil water." He got it in no > time and also

brought dabeli, a popular dish in Bhuj, for the patients and their relatives. >

Imagine, hundreds of pieces in a few hours. It was a miracle. > > As I was

treating patients, I got pieces of news. "Ramesh is no more," that some other >

friend had died. So many people I knew have died. One nice chap put biscuits in

my > mouth when I was stitching wounds. He was so caring. Slowly, things got

organised. > We don't know who got those things for us. Things poured in.

Dicloran and Tetanus > Toxide injections were made available. > > After 7 pm, I

was tired, it was beyond my scope. I went to the district health officer's >

office. It's an administrative post. The man does not know anything about

medicine. I > wanted a mobile operation theatre and 100 operation kits. It was

not made available even > on Monday night. I pleaded with him and the

politicians. "Don't call doctors. Get the > operation stuff first." Two hundred

doctors have arrived in Kutch, but we don't know > how to use them in the best

way. Thirty bright medical men came from AIIMS, Delhi, but > without equipment.

Eighty per cent of medical help is useless unless we have an > operation theatre

and equipment. > > Someone sent a helicopter full of Cloramycin, not a great

help. I need 1,000 pairs of > gloves, please. I understand that the sender does

not know the ground realities. As of > late night, January 29, we don't have a

functioning orthopaedic section and an operation > theatre. The military

hospital is doing a wonderful job under Colonel Lahiri's leadership, > but

their resources are limited. > > All the private dispensaries are shut, the

government hospital is gone, where will the > children and mothers will go? We

want a temporary hospital that will last us 6 months.

>---- >

http://www.ofbjp.org

>---- >A

worldwide community of BJP's friends, supporters and activists: >Friends of the

BJP - Worldwide: http://www.ofbjp.org/fob

>---- > > Get

your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com