A Day in the Life of Mikhail Jizniovitch

With apologies to the fictional Ivan Denisovitch and his creator Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

My name is Mikhail Jizniovitch. I am a prisoner in the gulag. The gulags are also known as hospitals. The masters of the gulag have many names: Medicaid, Medicare, Red Cross/Red Shield and others. We, the inmates, toil to do the bidding of our masters. We dole out health care to the proletariat.

Today is Tuesday. The gulag must function 24 hours a day, seven days a week, always we must be of service to the people and our masters. I work every Tuesday night in my capacity as a healer in the Urgent Center of my gulag. Many other prisoners labor in the Urgent Center. My healer assistant is Robina Popova. The nurse comrades and technician comrades have also been sentenced to serve the health care bureaucracy.

I arrive at 2030 hours to relieve my fellow comrade healer of his difficulties. Comrade healer tells me of the illnesses and plans to treat our comrade patients. Scanning my computer screen makes me sigh. There are 8 patients on racks awaiting their care. Many more peasants sit in the holding area seeking help for their pain and suffering.

Before I can see a single patient, the Emergency Medico Serfdom (EMS) rolls to the door with an unfortunate who is vomiting into a blue bag and groans in pain. The nurse commandant and her minions struggle to make room for this arriving sufferer. My list of patients must be amended to place the new patient in the order of prioritized illnesses.

The patients electronic dossiers are read. Examinations performed and histories obtained, I order tests and medications. My dear coworkers struggle to meet the demands of the patients and their families. Monitors send off alarms, patient call buttons emit piercing klaxons; chaos is our ever present companion.

In the local region of our province we are the gulag for the victims of violence. Members of the rank and file, who have been injured by automobile collisions, knives, guns, predation of parental, sexual and criminal types, arrive walking, limping, or carried by EMS. We also minister to children and expectant mothers of the region. Those who suffer from diseases of the mind or the ravages of old age are preferentially depositing in this gulag's Urgent Center.

Chest pain, abdominal pain, headaches, weakness, depression, delusions, fever, coughs, bumps, twists, deformities, wounds; blood and/or drainage from noses, genitals, mouths, rectums; boils, sores, rashes, imbibers of vodka and other intoxicants; shortness of breath, lethargy, confusion; births and deaths.

I have served 30 years of a life sentence. My needs for shelter, food and even the pleasures of my life are met by the rewards bestowed by the masters of the gulags. My actions are closely scrutinized. I may be summoned before the politburo at any time. I am tired in body and spirit. The true payment is in the camaraderie of my fellow inmates and the gratitude of the masses who turn to the gulag's Urgent Center for relief.