Mike Davie, CEO of Quadrant writes about his experience at Singapore’s National Centre for Infectious Diseases, as a suspect Covid-19 case. You can read his full post
here.
[If you want to know about the behind the scenes on the fight again Covid-19 in Singapore, please read on]
Now back up a few hours. I'm on a work call when my temperature spikes and I can not think clearly. A dry cough had started earlier that day. With Tylenol not controlling the fever, I head to a local clinic. Prior to the previous Friday I had been in Home Quarantine due to our family travels to Korea and Canada. Upon returning the boys and I had 15 days in isolation at home. During that time, Leslie came back from a business trip to NY. We had obeyed all orders to stay home as we were high risk, due to the travels. Now, sitting in the doctors office, I went over this with him. After giving the timeline and explaining my symptoms I was thrown into an experience like no other.
Within seconds of ending my story, the doctor jumped into action (which I am guessing is the protocol they must follow). I was rushed into a back isolation room while the staff closed the office for decontamination. I could hear tons of commotion, cleaning, and calls being made to a central body, the mall and the ambulance dispatch.
I waited there for them to prepare my exit. The clinic is on the 3rd story of a mall. A back door lead me down a half lit back hallway that was sprayed with some disinfect cleaner. I was lead by the ambulance attendees down the flights of stairs and out the back door. They inform me we have two other pick-ups along the way. As we headed to the National Centre for Infectious Diseases, two more potential Covid-19 patients joined us.
Now, this is where is gets interesting. As we are lead out of the ambulance two others drove away, while there is a line of more behind us. On the ground there were X's that mark the spot where we are allowed to stand. One by one, the line moves forward for the initial screening and segregation. Right before we are about to enter, we are told "No pictures, no video". So I make my way in but now my fever is out of control (no meds for 6 hours). The first nurse quickly marks me "High-Risk" and a porter take me into the hospital, through the hundreds and hundreds of people. For every patient there was hospital staffer; nurses, porters, janitors, doctors, pharmacists and technicians. It looked like a war zone, except for the fact all the staff were calm, deliberate, organized and professional.
The porter and I wind our way around the halls, where perfectly placed desks are on perfectly marked x's on the floor. Barriers prevent people walking in the wrong spots and signs mark who is where, and what is their status (high or low risk). I am giving paperwork to review. No, not insurance. No, not credit card. They are only concerned with the virus. The questionnaire clearly marks on the page "Do not photograph or share this information with anyone..." so I will respect their wishes. All I can allude to is that the health care system here, is like no other I have witnessed. They are doing everything to ensure the safety of the citizens, protection of the economy and that they are going to what it takes to end the spread.
There are about 30 desk in my section, with different levels of people's illness, but the one thing we all have in common is that we are high risk. As the night goes on they call us to check out our lungs. An x-ray room is only meters away. Everyone gets one. If you are lucky, and your lungs are good, they take a swab right there and you are on your way. You get to go home and wait 12 hours for the results. If positive, an ambulance will come right away and bring you back. After waiting 6 hours, and after dozens of people making their way, the doctor comes up to me with the bad news. Lungs are infected, I'm heading upstairs for the night.
Now, this will be the third time I'm informed "no photos / no video". I'm taken to a private isolation room, where I'll spend the night waiting for the results of the Covid test. I'm first fitted with a computer on my wrist that attaches to the electrode to monitor the basic stats of oxygen in my blood (one of the major concerns for people with Covid). Then comes the swab. For people who scroll Facebook and have seen where the swab goes... yes...it hurts... it is not pleasant. If you haven't seen, well it goes in your nose and tickles your brain it seems. As I finish the blood tests I realized really what was around going on around me.
As I can't show photos of the room, let's just say it is one of the most clean, modern and organized hospital rooms I have ever seen. To get into my room though there an 'airlock' type room where staff come in, close the first door, and the second opens. They are all wearing disposals hazmat type wear from head to toe. Every time they leave, they have to go into the decontamination room that separates my room from the hall, dispose of all their protective clothing, wash and disinfect anything they brought in with them. This process is repeated over and over again, with each visiting staff member. The amount of protocol to just visit me, is something amazing.
Around 3:30am I call it a night. Tests are done, fever still high and the doctor confirms I have pneumonia. I'll find out in 12 hours if Covid is the cause.
The morning comes, and as it rolls on, I'm greeted by the nurses and the doctor through out the morning. Every time someone comes in, they have to go through the whole process of disinfection. The amount of protective gear they go through, just to support me is unbelievable. I feel guilty, as you hope that they are safe. As they risk getting infected themselves, ALL of them are cheery, calm and professional. I can't imagine the stress they are going through, yet none of them show it.
Well, it's 3pm and the good news comes in,
the first test came back negative for Covid. I have never been happier to only have pneumonia. But saying that, this disease is tricky. There have been cases where it hides, and with the state of my lungs, the doctors are taking no chances.
Night two I am awoken for my second covid test at 3am. To fast forward the story, this test comes back negative as well. But with pneumonia, the doctor wants to take no chances. To see how my lungs are doing they bring an xray machine to me, in my room. Ok, now, if you have ever seen a mobile xray machine, it looks like a dinosaur with a crane neck. As the radiologist leaves, he then spends then next 10 minutes decontaminating it. And goes on his way. He was cheery and professional too. With hundreds of patients and dozens coming in by the hour... they are all keeping it together.
So I sit here, on
day three. Heading off for the night. My next covid-19 test will be at 3am. I would like to say, I'm the lucky one. Lucky that I don't need a ventilator, and lucky that is just an oddly timed pneumonia. And with everything going on, the Singapore health system is ensuring my safety and the safety of those around me.
Now if you read to this point, I'd like to leave on this.
To see first hand the chaos this is causing, the stress on the health system and the amount of work and supplies that are need to treat patients and keep the medical staff safe is beyond comprehension. Living it first hand, I have not only a new found respect for all those in the medical industry (including the extremely important janitors and cleaning staff who are keeping the hospital safe), but also for the system itself. There is a reason people should self isolate, there is a reason why we should practice social distancing, and there is a reason why, if you are sick, you get yourself out of the general population. The system here in Singapore is beyond amazing to witness. But there is a limit to its capacity. Today they are in good shape but that is because of the measure they take to keep it that way. Of health systems that aren't as advanced, I can't see how they will cope. It was like a war zone on the first floor with the amount of sick people. Singapore is able to keep it managed and organized, but I don't see how other nations will.
For societies and people who are taking the social distancing as a joke,
get your act together. If you saw what is going on the inside, you'd sober up quite quickly on the reality that our medical systems face. So stop posting garbage that dimensions this pandemic. It's real, it's intense, people are dying and the medical staff are risking their lives to save yours.
Thank you to everyone who is working to keep us safe.
