Cancer patient condemned to die with no relief
A Catalan hospital rescheduled a terminal patient's pain relief for March, despite the fact that he is unlikely to survive more than a month
Suffering from terminal cancer, Enrique Conesa, aged 55, has been given less than one month to live by the doctors from his local hospital in the Catalan town of Mataró. But a combination of red tape and staff shortages, prompted by spending cuts, meant that until the media became aware of his case, he would likely have died without the intravenous morphine injections he needs if he is to pass away in relative peace. He has been waiting eight months for an appointment at the hospital's pain relief unit to be given his first injection, along with guidelines so that his wife, Antonia Benegas, can administer the morphine at home.
"He is suffering, he's hanging on, but he is in terrible pain. I don't want him to die like an animal," Antonia says.
"If a newspaper hadn't called them, they would have done nothing"
Enrique was diagnosed with a Klatskin tumor, a particularly painful cancer that affects the area between the pancreas and the liver. He has lost 30 kilograms since March, and has been taking morphine orally since September. The hospital in Mataró, with a catchment area of more than a quarter of a million people, had arranged an appointment in November. But a strike by medical staff, in protest at spending cuts by the regional government, meant the appointment was cancelled and automatically reset for March 28, four-and-a-half months later.
"It would be a miracle if he were still here in March," points out Antonia.
Last week she went to the hospital to try to explain the situation. Her husband already takes 800 milligrams of morphine orally each week. "But it has less and less effect, all I can do is watch him suffer, and it's killing me. I can't sleep, I can't eat," she says.
Antonia says that staff at the hospital ignored her, and refused to look at her husband's paperwork. Eventually she says she was given a complaints form and escorted out of the building. "We don't have the resources and you'll just have to get on with it," she says she was told. A hospital spokesman later spoke to EL PAÍS, saying: "We told her that there was nothing we could do. The appointments are managed by a computer system, and they can't be changed."
But within an hour, the hospital called Antonia Benegas, and rescheduled the appointment for November 30. "We have looked at your husband's notes. There has been an administrative error; we apologize," a member of the hospital's administrative department told her. EL PAÍS contacted the hospital afterwards, and was told that the delay had been due to an accumulation of administrative mistakes.
"The appointment was not rescheduled because of the strike, but because Mr Benegas' doctor was ill that day," said a spokesman.
Following the introduction of cuts by the regional government of Catalonia, headed by the right-wing Convergence and Union (CiU) nationalist bloc, earlier this year, several cases of patients who have been let down by the healthcare system have made the headlines.
Catalonia's health service, which serves 7.5 million people, is cutting the salaries of 40,000 public health professionals in the region's eight university hospitals and more than 300 primary care centers to save around 10 percent, an estimated 100 million euros, from the regional health budget until the end of 2011.
It is the regions that are responsible for healthcare in Spain, not the central government. CiU is trying to repair a regional budget deficit that is forecast to hit 2.66 percent of gross domestic product this year - well beyond a 1.3-percent target set by the central government.
Spain's healthcare system is ranked seventh best in the world by the World Health Organization. The system offers universal coverage as a constitutionally guaranteed right and no out-of-pocket expenses - aside from prescription drugs. Patients do complain, however, about the long waits to see specialists and undergo certain procedures.
"I cannot forgive them," said Antonia Benegas after being told her husband would be seeing a doctor this week. "They have had months to sort this out. Don't they understand what it means to have terminal cancer? On Monday I was told that they could do nothing. They didn't even bother to look at the paperwork. If a newspaper hadn't bothered to call them, they would have done nothing. My husband would have died, wracked with pain. I can only imagine how many other cases like this there must be that nobody hears about. All I want is for my husband to die with a little dignity."
"They said there was no helicopter but I could pay for an ambulance"
Last Wednesday, Miren Martínez, 31, cut her left hand badly as she pruned some vines at her family's winery in Elciego, in the Basque province of Álava. A worker rushed her to the nearest hospital, which is 12 kilometers away in Logroño, the capital of La Rioja region. When doctors removed her glove, they saw that her thumb was almost completely severed, and said it had to be attached using microsurgery, a specialty that this particular center lacks.
Martínez needed to be urgently transferred to Donostia Hospital in San Sebastián, 167 kilometers away, but the public health service of La Rioja refused to take her there in one of its ambulances. Instead, she had to wait for one to come over from the Basque capital of Vitoria. More than five hours later - the recommended limit for such surgeries is six hours - doctors reattached her thumb.
According to a spokesperson for La Rioja's health department, this is standard procedure in the entire national health system - even for emergencies. But a spokesperson for the Basque health department argued that it is not normal. "The standard procedure is that if the hospital that receives the patients lacks the means to assist them, they must then drive them wherever they need to go. The hospital can later claim transportation expenses," said the spokesman.
Martínez and her family are now considering suing, given the way she was treated by health authorities in La Rioja. Her case comes in the middle of a conflict between Basque and La Rioja authorities over health coverage for residents of borderline villages such as Elciego, Laguardia and Labastida. Located in a southern area of Álava province, known as "Rioja alavesa" and famous for wineries such as the one built by Frank Gehry for Marqués de Riscal, these towns had been served for years by health centers in La Rioja, which are closer.
But now, with the regions scrambling to cut spending and bring their deficits down, authorities in La Rioja have decided to stop providing around 9,000 Basque residents with primary and specialized care. La Rioja is willing to reestablish the service - when the Basque government pays the seven million euros it figures it costs to treat them. Meanwhile, the Basque health department notes that it, too, treats patients from La Rioja.
Martínez believes that her case is directly related to this situation. "The doctors at San Pedro told us that the surgery had to be done at Hospital Donostia. A bit later they told us we had three options to get there: drive in our own car, pay for an ambulance or wait for one to arrive from the Basque Country," says Laura Martínez, Miren's sister, who rushed to Logroño right after hearing about the accident.
The patient walked into the Logroño hospital at 12.30pm on November 16, and into the San Sebastián hospital at 5.25pm, according to hospital records. "The doctors who were standing ready for us asked in surprised tones where we had been during the six hours since the accident," the victim explains.
According to the Basque health department, La Rioja did not request an ambulance until after 3pm, even though Donostia Hospital had already been informed of the case hours before and alerted of the urgency of the case.
The surgery went well and Miren Martínez is slowly starting to regain movement in her thumb.
Tu suscripción se está usando en otro dispositivo
¿Quieres añadir otro usuario a tu suscripción?
Si continúas leyendo en este dispositivo, no se podrá leer en el otro.
FlechaTu suscripción se está usando en otro dispositivo y solo puedes acceder a EL PAÍS desde un dispositivo a la vez.
Si quieres compartir tu cuenta, cambia tu suscripción a la modalidad Premium, así podrás añadir otro usuario. Cada uno accederá con su propia cuenta de email, lo que os permitirá personalizar vuestra experiencia en EL PAÍS.
En el caso de no saber quién está usando tu cuenta, te recomendamos cambiar tu contraseña aquí.
Si decides continuar compartiendo tu cuenta, este mensaje se mostrará en tu dispositivo y en el de la otra persona que está usando tu cuenta de forma indefinida, afectando a tu experiencia de lectura. Puedes consultar aquí los términos y condiciones de la suscripción digital.