Popular blogger Andrei Zakurdaev published creepy testimonies of his friend about infectious life in a hospital in Voronezh:
“My good friend was discharged from the hospital after one and a half months of pneumonia and one and a half weeks of intensive care. As an ill COVID-19 officially, although all of his analyzes were negative.
Here are his adventures, described by himself in consciousness and bright memory directly from the walls of his chamber. And his own subjective assessment of everything that happened to him:
Voluntary Society for Forced Coronavirus Infection
Disclaimer. There will be nothing about the heroism of the doctors or the coordinated work of the services, not a word about the “excellent” organizational work of our administration in connection with the pandemic, because I’ve been in the hospital for almost 40 days and the prospects for discharge are not clear in principle.
In fact, the whole depth of the kibosh needs to be described in more detail and my story is inconsistent and fragmentary, but I hope that I will convey the general feeling.
Who is too lazy to read the entire opus - at the bottom there is a short list of "tin" and conclusions (purely my opinion).
The numbers on April 18 happened to physically work hard on a draft, the next day I began to cough, not much, but in the current situation it is unpleasant. The bad idea to lie down after labors in a hot bath exacerbated the situation. The cough went down lower in the bronchi and, as it turned out, into the lungs. On Monday, the temperature rose to 38. For the sake of reinsurance, CT made it not difficult, because medical center in the next house. The diagnosis is left-sided pneumonia, a low probability of coronavirus infection.
I am sitting at home in a remote place with two daughters in the same apartment. Damn, how would you not infect them, or already ?! Or what ?! In a quiet panic mode, he rang into the clinic, the doctor on duty jumped up, saw the conclusion, jumped as much as possible, said: “... you can’t hear the nichrome there,” but he called me an ambulance. And half an hour later, the Michelin symbol in an anti-plague suit jokingly packed me in a gazelle with the numbers 03.
Arrived at BSMP 8 Voronezh. They gave me a piece of paper and told me to sit in line in the waiting room, in front of me a woman accompanies a gurney with a peasant looking like a prisoner of Buchenwald with numbers on her wrist - he already has difficulty communicating. From the words of the woman who was with him - there was or was tuberculosis, and then there was some kind of misfortune in 3 days that burned the man beyond recognition. After half an hour of motions at the reception, they identified him in intensive care, what happened to him next - xs ...
And after me they rolled another gurney with some extremely stale individual with a wound on his head. He was wearing only underwear from clothes, and when interviewed by a doctor, it turned out that he had 10 years of HIV.
And here I am sitting with my CT in the 2-by-4-meter corridor with tuberculosis and a speed bearer and still think that I will be quickly treated here, because I am almost healthy compared to others.
Only now I understand that in the waiting room there was a tube, a speed and a moron.
But he could refuse hospitalization ...
The doctor in the waiting room looked at the CT scan, and said: "Go to the fifth floor or something, like people like you are being resettled there."
A ward for five beds, although it is designed for four in all parameters and locations of devices, but the situation in the country is difficult, you can understand ... and forgive, probably. For a couple of hours, they equipped the room with dandy men - some with temperature, some with obscenities and searches - and where are they smoking here ?! Someone was immediately stuck with a dropper with an unknown medicine, someone no shisha at all. The evening was spent in conversation that pneumonia was treated in 12 days and it was necessary to prepare for a long bed.
How wrong everyone was, although some were relatively lucky. So the evening passed, went to bed.
In the morning they brought jars for analysis on everything and said that they would take the blood tomorrow. Spitting in jars and doing all that was required, I waited for my first dropper. What was in the containers with saline other than saline, no one said, check with your doctor. The second capacity was identified - ciprofloxacin, an antibiotic - similar to the treatment of pneumonia!
A smear on the cove was taken on the 3rd day of being in the ward, but somehow I did not attach importance to this oddity.
Outside the window, a bunch of equipment materialized and began to clean the area for the new hospital.
And the days dragged on ... People in antiplague suits, indistinguishable from each other, came and put droppers, measured the oxygen content in the blood and temperature, and also said that everyone should be treated silently, and we would be silently treated ... Test results for they said the coronavirus after 6 days, it seemed like everyone had a negative one, but the nurse who put the droppers said in a terrible secret that there was at least one positive in each room — it started to get nervous.
Masks were given only on the third day, before that everyone had gone to where they had to.
After 10 days, my temperature rose and a couple of days later (May 2, it seems) I was taken by elevator to the CT, and after an hour they pulled the gurney and said, grab my clothes and went to the intensive care unit! Alles, I'm shocked and slowly fallomorphs. There are no doctors, as May holidays, - from whom should I learn ?, - and not from anyone! On his own, he went to intensive care.
Outside the window, a new infectious diseases hospital was riveted at the Stakhanov pace on the orders of the president; they had already begun to assemble the walls.
In the intensive care unit, they were placed in a ward for 4 beds with a man with complications from “nothing is known,” because he was told that all the tests were negative, but they put a name and a diagnosis “carpet 19” on the bed. Instead of his “retired” neighbor, a middle-aged man who was taken away the day before with a garbage bag on his head to a “separate building”, I was settled.
And they continued to treat with the same medicines.
In the intensive care unit, the staff was responsible, all the procedures were scheduled in time, and even the food was delivered at the same time. So far, management has not decided to cut staff by 3 people for the holidays. Probably not to pay a double tariff for the holidays. What a good optimization we have!
As a result, the department has 1 nurse, half a doctor and half a nurse ... If anything, only our father will be able to read from all resuscitation actions.
But at that moment I was up to a damn, the temperature was boiling up to 39 almost in constant mode, I was given paracetamol three times a day with antibiotics and I was thrown from chills into sweat and vice versa. In such a swing mode, a dozen days passed, and finally I was released.
They continued to sculpt a new hospital outside the window around the clock, and past our room every two days, and sometimes more often, rolled up parcels with black packets on their heads, spoiling the statistics on coronavirus victims.
As soon as they brought down the temperature, they decided to transfer them from the intensive care unit, the doctors said, get ready to be discharged, got ready, but instead of the discharge wards, for some reason they transferred to an ordinary ward next to the one where I was initially put. During the transfer, my destination sheets were lost and I lay without pills and droppers for a day, i.e. without treatment at all.
The attending physician came in and instead of the written-down epicrisis said - "Well, lie down for a couple of weeks. "FOR HOW LONG?!
My term of “imprisonment” was around three weeks and I began to quietly hate everything related to medicine.
I still did unsuccessful tests for covid, they were already six. I was amazed at the stubbornness of doctors, who insistently wanted to get at least some confirmation of the treatment methods that they tested on me, but the cove was never confirmed.
Another CT scan on May 18th showed a lack of dynamics and I continued to lie down with treatment with the strongest antibiotics against the virus, which they have no effect on.
This week, the term of "imprisonment" will approach 40 days. I tried to joke that the soul leaves the earth for this period, maybe it’s time for us to bring down? The doctor grunted, but said nothing ...
So greetings to all from the walls of the "Voluntary Society for Forced Infection with Coronavirus".
So, now I'll describe the horror for those who do not want to read a lot of letters.
Complete gouging and irresponsibility.
The lack of understanding of what to do and how is treated according to the training manual from Moscow. Lack of staff and doctors. Spit on patients in principle. Bestial conditions in a hospital. The unpreparedness and powerlessness of our medicine before such challenges.
They immediately put a bunch of people indiscriminately, so that everyone will get infected in any way, even if they are clean.
The toilet is one on the floor, and cleaned twice a week, and in the presence of a strange contingent and elderly people who do not have time to convey everything .... in general there is a photo, but I do not advise people with a weak stomach to watch.
Treatment - they are treated according to the instructions from the “matskwa”, without hesitation and not particularly analyzing, because a pulmonologist is one in 150 people.
The doctor does not present either a strategy or a treatment plan, has no idea about the consequences of treatment and the courses of taking medications. It has become worse - to strengthen antibiotics, does not help, increase the amount, while antibiotics do not affect the virus in any way. (From me - here he leads in vain, antibiotics are needed to suppress the accompanying infection).
They are experimenting - they give a cure for HIV until it starts to vomit, it doesn’t help, they start injecting antiviral, if it doesn’t help, then they begin to stuff hydroxychloroquine for malaria, and they don’t give a damn that it kills the liver and heart faster than the virus.
Employees are reduced artificially, while staff is not responsible for the word at all. Any problem is not solved in principle.
The food is nuuuuu, sick, little, cold, and tasteless.
The conclusions are mine, but seemingly logical.
I arrived with left-sided pneumonia, which, judging by the CT scan, was cured in the first three to four days (it can be seen from the first CT scan that was done in the hospital), then (after 7-10 days) I got bilateral viral infection with foci in other places of the lungs, so I contracted this muck, probably in the hospital.
I still have smears taken to determine the coronavirus (7 times already).
They were pumped up with antibiotics without any exchange rate restrictions, they poured directly with liters, for more than three consecutive weeks.
The doctor’s only answer to the question about my prospects is: “...well, it’s like you are gradually recovering, but the situation can change at any time and it will become worse until death”.
And now, in addition to the lungs that have not yet recovered, I have a thoroughly planted liver, half-dead kidneys and intestines with a stomach that do not work. Well, so far - “the situation may change at any time and will become worse until death”.
I perfectly understand that my assessment is purely subjective and “could be worse”, but why should I compare with the worst examples? If we are fighting heroically, then let's do it not in the shit up to the chest..."