Nurses in labour ward cold-hearted

Letters, Normal

LAST Oct 26, my daughter, who was expecting her first baby, went into labour.
I took her to the Port Moresby General Hospital maternity/labour ward at 6.45pm.
Fifteen minutes later, all visitors and guardians were advised by security guards to move out.
I personally asked if I could be allowed to stay because this was my daughter’s first baby.
However, my request was turned down by security guards and nursing staff on duty.
Since we were not allowed to remain in the ward, I decided to go home.
Since I left my mobile phone with my daughter, I decided to use my son’s mobile phone to check on her progress. 
When I called her at 12.25am, I got the shock of my life.
“Mummy, the water bag broke and the baby is coming out,” she screamed in pain.
I asked whether her there were any nurses around.
She said no. 
From there on, I was on the phone advising her on what to do until she delivered her baby.
When I heard the baby crying, I asked if that was her baby and she said “yes”.
I asked whether there were any nurses around and she said no.
A mother, whose bed was next to my daughter, advised her what to do.
She told me the baby was a girl. 
A nurse walked in five minutes after the delivery and I heard her over the phone telling my daughter “we do not allow mobile phones in here because of too many complaints”. 
I later learnt that it was the same mother who advised my daughter had told the duty nurse that my daughter had delivered.
In company of my neighbours and sons, we took a taxi to POMGH to find out how my daughter was, only to be told that guardians were not allowed in until 6am.
I sat at the car park and saw a nursing sister sitting nearby chewing betelnut.
I found out that she was a nursing sister on duty at the labour ward.
She told me “if you are not happy with our service, why don’t you take your daughter to a private hospital”.
I told her I would if I could afford it.
I told her she made an oath to serve God’s people and I was disappointed with the nurses’ attitude.
By then, other guardians  and taxi drivers who had gathered around us gave their opinions.
At 6am, the gates opened and as we headed to the ward, a girl came out crying and told her parents “bebi dai, mi karim long floor long door tasol ia na baby dai”.
It was so sad.
What I would like to know is have our nurses lost their pride?


Unhappy mum
Port Moresby