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As a foreign reporter, my job is to tell Indian stories, not be a part of them. But I was writing an article when I started to feel fever Covid-19 vaccine policy last month, I felt like I had been diagnosed with the Sars-Cov-2 virus.
I expected to sleep when I was exhausted, but the next day, still with a fever, I was asked to take the Covid test. A major chain of diagnostic labs, which previously provided an effective home testing service, stopped answering phones and answering online requests. A doctor friend convinced one of the laboratory phlebotomists to collect my sample. Two days later, the results were confirmed coronavirus hard wave India was beaten and pushed for a break in its health system.
For the next few days, my physical symptoms were mild. But it was still horrible to be sick to say the least unexpected knowing that drugs, hospital beds, and oxygen were scarce. I suffered constant anxiety knowing that if I took a worse turn I would struggle to get medical help.
I quickly found that I was so focused on preventing infections that I had no clue what I needed to be sick of. A friend linked me to a Kolkata-based infectious disease specialist who thought I was at low risk for serious illness. I had my first dose of the Covid vaccine 10 days before the fever started. But the doctor asked me to treat the disease aggressively from the beginning, considering in chaos hospitals.
He was prescribed an anti-inflammatory drug, favipiravir, which he is now suffering from clinical trials Covid-19 in the UK as a potential therapy but already approved in India for emergency use. Many of his patients were taken, he said, and no one suffered severely, including people in their 90s.
Usually, I am eager to heal. I knew that the effectiveness of favipiravir in the treatment of coronavirus was not yet scientifically validated. But when hospitals take away sick patients, the logic of taking them experimental drug makes sense. The challenge I found was to get it.
I called five pharmacies, but they were all sold out. A friend called six others in vain. I panicked: the doctor wanted the drug to start quickly and Delhi was a few hours away from the start of the local weekend schedule. Then a friend who heard that I was positive for Covid-19 called me.
“I’m looking for this drug,” I told him. “Where can I get an idea?” He said he would check. It was anticipated that they would prepare for low-emergency drug use. His friend had such a deposit and was willing to share it.
That night I was glad to start treatment with the pills the night before. But it was not enough for the prescribed course. A few days later, I spent hours calling pharmacies to unsuccessful hunting, eventually asking a friend in the industry for help.
My difficulties are pale compared to my patient’s despair, anger, and grief. My Twitter feed was filled with requests from hospital beds, oxygen cylinders, anti-virus remdesivir, plasma or intensive care unit. Major hospitals asked on Twitter to refill decreases oxygen supplies. Many friends and professional relationships fought for their lives. The medical friends were crying with an impotent rage.
The news of the death was dire. The first one Ambassador of India died after waiting to be admitted to a hospital parking lot; oxygen was depleted for the hospitalized; the 34-year-old son of a top politician, a young journalist. Incinerators struggled with unprecedented body feeds.
I decided that I needed to tune in to the crisis that was happening to ensure my physical recovery and protect my mental health. I stopped checking Twitter. Stacked newspapers, unread.
Once I felt better and felt better again, I saw that Narendra Modi’s government extended from film to film the right to be vaccinated to everyone over the age of 18, even acute shortage owners.
And with thousands dying every day, often for medical help, the health minister cited questionable official data to claim the death rate in Covid, India. it was lower than the richest countries – hardly comforts bereaved families.
Today, I recovered from my encounter with the virus. It will take much longer to overcome the trauma of seeing this calamity devour the place I call home.
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