Addressing doctors and frontline workers at Varanasi, his Lok Sabha constituency, the Prime Minister gave them the new mantra of doorstep delivery of treatment ( jahan beemar wahin upchaar ) in order to inspire them to take innovative steps to combat the pandemic. He said bringing treatment to a patient’s doorstep will reduce the burden on medical infrastructure. I could almost hear Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal chuckle in desperation over his beleaguered scheme of doorstep delivery of ration.
However, unlike the previous catchphrases addressed to the common man — as long as there is no medicine, there should be no lowering of guard ( jab tak davai nahin tab tak dhilayi nahin ) and medicines along with strict observation of protocol ( davai bhi, kadai bhi ) — this time round, the message is for the health workers.
The appeal was made against the backdrop of sky-rocketing novel coronavirus infections and shortage of medicines and vaccines. Since Mohammed was reluctant to go to the mountain, the common man had already started to bring home an assortment of medicines and equipment, as a measure of abundant precaution.
When the first lockdown was announced last year, we, an aged couple living alone, were really circumspect. The first thing I did was to download on my smartphone a few popular e-commerce platforms, which I had heard of but never really used before. With the assistance of my relationship manager, I also picked up Net-banking with some trepidation.
I then proceeded to assemble a modest “toolkit” for our guerilla warfare against an unknown and unpredictable enemy. It comprised paracetamol tablets, masks, sanitisers of various hues and aroma, a thermometer gun, a pulse oximeter, face shields, a PPE kit and extra-light oxygen cans, all ordered online.
Of late, the hospitals, having run out of accessories for treatment, started asking the patients and their attendants to make their own arrangements for medicines and oxygen cylinders, if they want the patient to be admitted for treatment, much in the spirit of an advertisement for a snack which ends with the esoteric advice: BYOB (bring your own bhujiya ). The government too has now started promoting home test kits.
This has propelled a rush to augment the repertory at home significantly. The toolkit is being supplemented not only with exorbitantly priced real as well as fake medicines but also by a hodge-podge of bulky equipment, such as an oxygen cylinder or, better still, an oxygen concentrator and may be a gurney and a patient bedstead. This has given rise to an ungodly race among the Indian diaspora to send disinfection chambers, oxygen concentrators and others, to their near and dear ones at home. What next? A crematorium in the garage or backyard?
Corona is only 10 metres away. How close has the treatment come? Will the burdensome system come forward to meet the citizen at least five step ahead? That is the question.
( The writer is a former Secretary-General of the Rajya Sabha )
vkagnihotri25@gmail.com
