The Hindu : National : When nurses turned saviours at Cama Hospital

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Thursday, Nov 26, 2009
ePaper | Mobile/PDA Version

National

National

When nurses turned saviours at Cama Hospital

Rahi Gaikwad

For all their efforts and quick-thinking, no official praise came their way

— Photo: Vivek Bendre

THE REAL HEROES: (From left) Cama Hospital staff members Dhanu Gohil, Anjali Kulthe, Meenakshi Musale, Jayashri Kurdhunkar and Dhondu Parab.

MUMBAI: Even as terrorists laid siege to the Cama maternity hospital here, staff nurse Anjali Kulthe, acting as a human shield, shifted a patient from her ward to the second floor for delivery on the night of November 26 last.

Another nurse, Meenakshi Musale, and her staff crawled on the floor to feed infants in their ward. Jayashri Kurdhundkar performed two successful deliveries. Battling his own fears, attendant Dhondu Parab lifted the morale of distraught relatives of pregnant women.

Each story tells a tale of courage and commendable response to the call of duty in the face of a grave danger.

“It is our uniform that made us responsible to our patients’ well-being. We think the uniform has some special powers. Not a single mother or child was hurt during the entire ordeal at Cama.”

Ms. Kulthe of the Antenatal Care Ward, who saw terrorist Mohammed Ajmal Amir ‘Kasab’ through a window, deposed before the court: “I told the Crime Branch, just as you are proud of your uniform, so am I.” When her pregnant patients lost all hope and their relatives kept making frantic calls, she became a pillar of strength.

“This building was shaking as if there was an earthquake. We thought this was our last night. The relatives called and said they were coming to take the patients. I asked, how on earth are you going to come in the first place? The police have surrounded this place. I told them to trust me and not call again. I stood guard at the door. If at all, the first bullet would have hit me,” says Ms. Kulthe.

At 1.30 a.m., one patient went into labour. “I asked her, ‘Can you bear it?’ But her condition got serious — she had hypertension. I peeped out of the window and told the police that I wanted to shift a patient. They assured me of help, but no one came. So I decided to take the patient myself to the second floor Labour Ward. I walked in the front giving her cover. We kept to the wall, lest the terrorists see us from above.”

In Ms. Musale’s Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), there were six mothers and 11 babies. One baby was on ventilator support. “We put that infant on a 12-hour drip and placed diapers round him so that he would not feel cold. Other infants were moved to the corners of the room, away from windows. They had to be fed every two hours. We would crawl on the floor every now and then to feed them,” says Ms. Musale. The alert was sounded in the NICU when a bullet hit a window. “First I thought people were bursting crackers as there was a cricket match that day. In fact, I went to the window and started shouting. Then I saw one person sitting and the other appeared to be firing,” Ms. Musale recalls.

Gauze to fasten doors

The news of the terrorists entering the hospital sent the doctors and nurses hunting for locks. Since most latches were coming off at the hinges, machines and trolleys had to be placed against the doors. In other wards, the staff used gauze to fasten the doors.

For all the effort and quick-thinking on part of the staff, no official praise came their way. “No one visited this place. I think the government should acknowledge our efforts or else no one would stake his or her life again,” they say.In fact, many workers who have been with the hospital for 15- 20 years have not been made permanent, says Mr. Parab.

On the other hand, there was an outpouring of gratitude from patients and their relatives. “When we opened the ward doors in the morning, the relatives literally touched our feet,” says Ms. Kulthe. When the matron held a meeting of the nurses the next morning, it was the first time they gave vent to their emotions, bottled up through the night.

Ms. Kulthe’s 14-year-old hugged her the moment she reached home. “He asked, mama, why didn’t you get an AK-47?”

Ms. Kurdhundkar thinks she has been reborn. “After the deliveries, we sat in complete silence wondering what was going to happen to us. Would we survive this? I still choke when I think of it.”

Printer friendly page
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

National

News Update

Stories in this Section