Healthcare For The Elderly, don't discard their love or worthiness

When my mother was 76 she was admitted to hospital for a third time because of heart failure due to a lack of potassium. On the other two occasions she had been sent to a hospital in Johannesburg. This time her primary healthcare doctor sent her to a hospital in her home town in the East Rand under the care of a local cardiologist.

On the day my mother was admitted to the healthcare facility, I was unable to visit her because children under twelve were not allowed and my husband was out of town for day, leaving me with no one to take care of my children. When I arrived at the hospital the following morning expecting to see my mother bright and cheery, I was appalled to find that unlike previous occasions when she had recovered virtually within hours of being admitted to the hospital in Johannesburg, she was fading pretty fast. She was too weak to acknowledge my presence or even to move her lips when I put a glass of water to them and there was no sign of an intravenous drip.  I immediately demanded to see the matron who informed me that they were following the doctor's orders, namely to make her comfortable.

The cardiologist's surgery was in a wing of the hospital and I contacted my brother to meet me at his rooms. When my brother arrived we informed the doctor's receptionist that we wanted to see him immediately and that we would wait right there at her window until he came out to meet with us.

Ten minutes later, when we asked this cardiologist why he wasn't addressing her heart failure in the same way it had been attended to in the past, he had the audacity to tell us that she was old and that we must expect that she wasn't going to live forever and that everyone had their time and it would be a kindness to her to let things play out naturally.

We were infuriated. I told him what I thought of him and hoped that he had more compassion for his own mother than he was having for ours and we immediately called her primary healthcare doctor and insisted that my mother be transferred to Johannesburg under the care of the cardiologist who had helped her in the past.

I travelled the 50 miles in the ambulance with her to the private hospital in Johannesburg. Once she was settled in their care I called home where my husband was taking care of our children and we agreed that I would stay at the hospital until my mother had recovered enough to be in control of her life again. Even though I trusted this hospital more than the other, I wasn't going to leave her healthcare to the mercy of the medical profession again.

That night my mother was able to sit up against the pillows of the hospital bed and smile at us.

That night, too, my brother received an abject apology, by phone, from the doctor who had been willing to let her die. Probably his conscience and the Hippocratic Oath had got to him. I'm sure had this happened in the USA he would've lost his license and have been sued for all he had…and rightfully so.

A week later my mother returned home and lived until she was 81. In those six years my 2 year old daughter and 5 year old son played board games with and listened to stories read by their grandmother which would otherwise have been denied them. When she passed away my 8 year old and 11 year old wrote notes of love and appreciation for their grandmother that were read at her funeral.

I never knew my maternal or paternal grandparents. They had passed away by the time I was born. I am grateful that my children were able to know their grandmother. Parents are precious, their love and worthiness should never be undermined or discarded by anyone because of their age.