Covid-19 duty without proper equipment, staying away from near ones and not getting paid as promised in some cases, female healthcare workers faced a host of obstacles during the lockdown last year. But they took the challenges head-on and made sacrifices to make things better for the people who were suffering, writes Somrita Ghosh
Last March, when the lockdown was announced, all that Saroj knew about the virus was, it was highly contagious. And, it could spread rapidly if masks were not worn or hands were not washed.
Like any other citizen, she was scared and sceptical about stepping out of house. But it was duty first. So she decided to go ahead and help others. Once she started doing that, “there was no time to think of myself”.
A resident of Najafgarh, 38-year-old Saroj works as an Asha worker for a monthly salary of Rs 1,000. She was deputed on multiple Covid-19 duties which began in April and continued till November.
She handled ration delivery by the state government, went on door-to-door surveys in containment zones and also checked up on patients in home isolation. And all this happened without PPE kits.
“I did ask for it, but it was not provided. Only masks and gloves were given. Initially, I was afraid. Not for myself, but what if I took the virus home?”
She has two children. She was scared for them. Living in the same area of Najafgarh in the western end of Delhi, another female healthcare worker leading from the front was struggling to find ways to cope with the surge of patients at Lok Nayak Hospital.
Sulochna Kataria, a deputy nursing superintendent, was assigned the Covid-19 ward of the Delhi government's largest facility, soon after it was turned into a dedicated hospital for corona patients.
“Initially I was travelling every day. My son would drop me and husband took me back home. But as the patient load was increasing, I shifted to the hostel so that I could be available for emergency situations. I stayed away from my family for almost five months and visited or met them once a week,” said 55-year-old Sulochna, who has been working at GB Pant Hospital these days.
Without PPE kits and equipped only with a medical gown, head cover and mask, Sulochna continued her Covid ward duties for eight months.
In her own words, she was very strict and did not hesitate to “take on” the doctors, senior or junior, who she thought were not fulfilling their responsibilities.
“I did not spare anyone when it came to proper treatment of patients and maintaining cleanliness in the wards. When I found that hospital staff were not turning up for duty, I complained directly to the hospital director,” she giggles.
Problem follows problem
After the lockdown was announced, Delhi had another headache apart from the virus.
Migrant labourers were moving in large numbers and providing them shelter was not easy. MCD School at Tihar NO 1 was converted into a temporary home for them. Anita Rani had been the school principal since 2011, but this was a totally different challenge.
“There were no bed-sheets or even mats. Somehow, we managed with what had in the school. When I think of last year, it was a really tough time,” the school principal recollects.
Though lunch and dinner was provided by the state government, hardly any arrangement was made for breakfast.
Anita showed her good samaritan side and went ahead to arrange it all by herself for those staying at the school.
Help came in from friends, local circles and neighbours who contributed and continued to provide bread-butter, bananas, milk, biscuits till the month of May.
“Police officials connected us to an NGO for supply of food, but that experience was extremely disappointing. One day they provided poori-chhole but it was more like a publicity stunt. They were engrossed in taking photos for publishing. I didn't want that kind of help. A few others like me were more eager to spend own money rather than seeking such favours,” she adds.
But her role didn’t just end there. She realised that these people were desperate to return home, as many of them started showing signs of depression and one even escaped from the shelter.
“Luckily, I could trace that boy on phone and convinced him and his friend to return for their own safety. I tried to communicate with them as much as possible, understand their pain and offer counselling from my side. They had lost jobs and were uncertain of the future. They needed empathy.”
Another constraint was colleagues not turning up for duties at the school, following which she had to even sign the suspension order of one teacher.
However, not all teachers could say no to emergency responsibilities and carried on as frontline workers. Seema Mathur, an MCD school teacher, was one in this lot.
“I won’t say it was a good experience. We all risked our lives and started working without any training or taking adequate safety measures. I was posted to a hunger relief centre and ration relief centre. The authorities didn’t even provide masks and sanitiser, forget PPE kits. They even provided faulty weighing machines, which increased our work,” she remembers.
Non-payment of dues
Seema lives in the Pitampura area and travelled to Sultanpuri everyday during the lockdown for emergency duty.
Associated with an MCD school as a teacher for 11 years, her situation was made worse by non-payment of salaries for nearly five months.
There were times when these factors weighed heavily on her mind and threatened to break her spirit. But then, she soldiered on.
Balancing personal life with professional space proved to be difficult and during the course of her frontline duty, Seema and her family members also contracted the virus.
Seema is not the only one. Performing the duties of a frontline worker despite drawing low salaries or going unpaid and lack of basic safety facilities remained a pertinent issue in Delhi.
Manju, another Asha worker assigned the task of looking after containment zones and patients isolated at home, states that after the major protest last year at Jantar Mantar by Asha and Anganwadi workers, salaries were increased. But that is only half the story.
“It was an eyewash. For the last two months, we are getting what we used to get earlier. As the number of cases started going down, our salaries were cut. They (administration) made us fill a form, apparently for some hike, but we don't know what it was for. I didn't get anything in hand. Maybe it's sent directly to my bank account. I never checked,” says Manju, who lives in the Badarpur border area.
Payment not made as per promise is not an isolated case. Saroj, too, said that the administration had promised Rs 200 per case for visiting Covid-19 patients who were under home isolation and Rs 500 for stepping into containment zones, but she hasn't been paid for her work yet.
“Officially, I went to only one containment zone. Unofficially, I was asked to accompany others into several other zones and I did. I went to the houses of 50-60 patients and that money is still unpaid,” she says.
Motherhood can wait
Staying away from family while on pandemic duty was another bad phase that many healthcare workers had to undergo.
Dr Pooja Shakya, working in the psychiatry department at AIIMS, says she stayed away from her parents, in-laws and even husband, who is also a doctor, as she used to go inside the Covid ward.
“Me and my husband would stay in different rooms, visit separate hospitals. There were times when we didn’t even see each other’s face for many days as our working hours varied. We maintained as much distance between us as possible. It's been two years of our marriage and we were planning to have a baby. But because of the pandemic, we have put that on hold for now,” she adds.
Wearing a PPE kit in peak summer and having menstrual cycle was another physical as well as mental exhaustion for these women healthcare workers.
“There were times when my PPE kit got stained while I was on duty. This has happened to many female healthcare workers. Being in that kit for long hours became troublesome health-wise, as going to the washroom also became a challenge. But compared to other facilities that I have heard about elsewhere, AIIMS took proper care of us and sanitised rooms,” Dr Pooja states.
But for these ladies, addressing personal pain and sufferings took a back seat and priority became patients.
Dr Pooja, being a psychiatrist, added that she would take extra steps to talk to Covid patients and counsel them.
She used to motivate them saying that they would be discharged soon and reunited with families.
“It is a blessing that being women, we could treat Covid patients more emotionally. It’s possible that we better understood their pain. They would be all alone, lying on bed. Even a small chat of 30 minutes a day would cheer them up. I tried going beyond just medical duties and wanted to be with the patients as much as possible. On a day, I saw even 30 patients dying. The mortuary was full. Families didn't even turn up to take the bodies. Those days, those scenes, I pray no one sees them again,” Sulochna adds. Asked to fight the unknown, these ladies did a good job.