Meet the unseen front-line staff in eye of storm

While public hospitals in the Eastern Cape continue to make international news as they lurch from crisis to crisis, some staff members show up every day, determined to give the best patient care they can.

In the midst of the doom and gloom surrounding hospitals in Nelson Mandela Bay, a Facebook page has been set up to honour hard-working Livingstone Hospital workers who always go the extra mile.

Here are their stories:

Kempie van Rooyen, clinical psychologist:

“My name is actually Kempie.

My grandfather was the ninth of 11 children, so they ran out of family names and he got the nickname of a famous person in the family.

There are now three or four generations of Kempies.

I actually didn’t start off in psychology. I was registered to study electrical engineering at Stellenbosch University but could not see myself being an engineer.

It has always been about the interpersonal connection for me, so I switched to theology.

After completing theology, I did a postgraduate degree in psychology and went into academia.

The teaching part was very rewarding, but in academia your currency is research and publications, and that became an empty, meaningless currency for me.

I also had the feeling that the research I was doing on gender-based violence and on people in crisis situations was not reaching the people on the ground.

I felt that my work was not making an impact where needed, so I applied for a job at Livingstone.

I now only see staff, but that’s everyone from medical to nursing, hygiene, production and right up to management.

I see lots of different kinds of things.

Before Covid-19 it was workplace-related stress, people with psychological illnesses or who needed some kind of workplace accommodation.

I now have an intern who helps me, but because the nature of my work is so clinical; so focused on crisis management, I don’t often get to focus on system change as much as I would like.

What I would like for the Livingstone community in the future is more of an emphasis on preventive wellness such as supporting staff so that they don’t reach that crisis point.

It’s definitely possible.”

Andrew Uithaler, radiographer:

“I grew up in PE but we moved to the UK when I was 10.

I went to school there, and then university, and worked for three years as a radiographer in England.

I wanted to come back to SA for various reasons.

I wanted to give back to the community I was from.

Also, my girlfriend at the time, who is now my wife, was here, so that was a big reason to return.

It was quite difficult to come back.

There was so much paperwork — it really was not an easy process.

But I was lucky enough to be offered a community service post in 2018, and then I interviewed to become a permanent staff member and got the job.

I work all over in CT, the X-ray department, theatre and emergency X-rays.

An encounter that stood out for me was a patient I was doing a trauma series on.

He had been helping his son change a tyre on the side of the road when they were both knocked down by a truck.

His son was killed instantly and he was very badly injured.

I tried my best to take his mind off the situation and chat to him while he was in X-rays with me.

Anyway, he was treated and recovered, and I forgot about the encounter, but about six months later the department got a letter from that patient saying how much I had helped him that night.

He personally thanked me by name for my service.

That was important to me because a lot of the time you’re seen as a faceless part of the X-ray machinery.

It’s nice to be able to meaningfully connect with someone and to make a difference.

And that’s the thing, you know, we see so many patients that we don’t remember all of them, but for them, we play a huge part in a significant moment in their lives.”

Marilyn McGuire, ward clerk:

“I started working at Livingstone more than 30 years ago.

I first applied for a nursing post, but at that time all the posts were frozen.

I later heard that someone was on maternity leave so I applied for the position of ward clerk and I have been here, in this hospital, ever since.

I’ve seen doctors and patients come and go.

One memorable patient for me stayed here for more than two years.

No family ever came to visit him.

He didn’t have anyone.

Between myself and the social worker, we applied for a green ID book for him.

We then used the ID to apply for a Sassa grant.

I took him myself to go wait in line for his first Sassa payment. He looked so proud.

He was finally discharged shortly thereafter into a care home.

That’s what Livingstone is about for me — ordinary people going the extra mile.”

Colleen Swiegelaar, casualty nurse:

“I’m from a family of teachers and nurses.

Everyone was a teacher or a nurse, so I first studied teaching but quit in my second year.

Oh Lord, I didn’t have the patience for it.

My sister told me I had to get up and do something.

I couldn’t just work in the garden all day.

I then started my nurse’s training at Livingstone in 1988.

Most of the young doctors weren’t even born yet and in those days the training was tough.

The matrons were hard on us.

The small lift with the pole in the middle, that was just for senior management and senior staff; consultants and matrons only.

The other lifts were for nurses and junior doctors.

As students, you weren’t even allowed to take the lifts.

I lost 40kg in three months running up and down those stairs.

But even though it was tough, they taught us well.

As a second-year student, I could present a patient to a professor from Cape Town.

They taught us respect and discipline, and to think out of the box.

Nowadays, I hear they learn everything in simulations, on plastic dummies.

In our day you had to do it to learn it.

You had to get your hands dirty.

As soon as my training finished, I went into the private sector.

Working there was nice because everyone knew exactly what their job was.

Everyone needed to know each other.

But in 2006, I decided to come back to Livingstone.

Those days casualty was still downstairs where physio is now.

I remember one guy, both femurs broken, lying on a stretcher being seen by the doctor and, suddenly, in charge the gangsters to finish him off.

A bullet grazed past the doctor’s back.

And that guy with both his femurs broken jumped off that stretcher.

Some days were really terrible down there.

When I first came back, I told myself it would only be for a year or two.

But here I am, 14 years later.”

Thobile Teyise, orthopaedic nurse:

“When I matriculated in 1976, I started working at the post office in my hometown, Makhanda [then Grahamstown].

But I was young and naughty.

Some people came to town to recruit workers for the mines upcountry.

I started working at the mines and the only thing that kept me from having to go underground was my matric.

Every week, I had to identify each man and take him to the paymaster — that was my job.

While I was working there, I used to see these male nurses in the mine clinics.

They wore smart uniforms and I saw the work they were doing.

So, after some time, I asked them how they got into the profession and they explained about the nursing college.

I applied and was accepted.

I studied for 3½ years.

I then started working here at Livingstone in 1982.

I used to work all over in the different casualty sections.

Then, in 1991, I went to get an extra qualification in orthopaedics.

I always liked orthopaedics.”

Sihaam Jardien, outpatient nurse:

“I started my nursing career in ICU, actually.

That’s how I met a lot of the doctors, because they were rotating through ICU.

And I loved working it, but I missed that patient contact; that interaction.

The patients came through.

They went out and you never knew what happened to them afterwards.

I decided to give up working shifts and just focus on community nursing.

That’s my passion.

I am now completing my master’s degree in community nursing.

I’ve always been a person who studies.

My family knows that about me so they never complain about the extra hours I have to put in.

My thesis is on perception of nurses towards use of the Road to Health card (RTHC) as a means of detecting childhood malnutrition.

I love that book, it’s such an empowering tool.

And what I wanted to find out is if people are plotting children in the book when they visit the clinic and if not, why not?

Do they not know how?

Is there just not enough time in the busy clinics?

The book is actually the whole reason I wanted to continue with my studies.

I had this kind of full circle moment that really cemented everything I was learning.

A 10-year-old girl came into the clinic with a minor complaint.

She was so beautiful and growing so well.

The mom said to me ‘Suster, hier’s jou kind’ [‘Sister, here is your child’.

She had recognised me.

When I looked in her RTHC, it was my handwriting from 10 years before.

I had delivered that baby as a student nurse.

I had taught the mom how to use her RTHC, and all that bedside education and information I had given that day on when to get vaccinated and when to take the child to get checked, the mom had taken to heart and it had made a real difference to that little girl’s life.

That is why I do what I do.”

Sipho Vena, laboratory messenger:

“I drive in and out of Port Elizabeth from Uitenhage every day.

Last year, while driving to work, I was in a bad accident.

The car rolled.

I hurt my neck and my shoulder badly.

I had to get treated in hospital.

When I returned to work, I was initially just inside the lab doing light duty but I wanted to be back on my feet, walking the hospital corridors again.

That’s what I like most about my job.

I collect specimens from all over the hospital, and then sort and package them inside the lab.

Some specimens have to go to the main lab in Port Elizabeth so we have to get them ready for the courier.

I want to study further.

My dream is to one day be a lab technician.”

William Kivedo, mortuary porter:

“When I was much younger, I watched a lot of detective movies.

And that was my very first job out of school — I became a trainee private detective.

The very first night I was on duty, I was nearly killed.

Six bullets almost went through me.

I had gone on to the premises with just a photo looking for this guy, not realising someone was after me.

I quickly went back to the place I was stationed, but then a van pulled up.

This guy started shouting at me, asking me why I was there, and pointing a gun at me.

I managed to talk my way out of that.

This year, I have been working at Livingstone for 36 years.

I started here in 1984.

I had just turned 25 the year I started working here.

I was a junior porter for six months, and as a junior porter I had 56 guys reporting to me.

But I don’t like being in charge.

I’m a flexible guy.

I can work in a team, I can work independently, but to be honest I’m old school.

Us old-school guys have a certain way of doing things.

I have worked in every department as a porter.

This is my second year of working only for the mortuary.

I work mostly night duty and it suits me because I have more time for my family.

I’m very surprised to find myself working here for 36 years.

The job I had just before this, I only worked there for one day.

One single day.

But working at Livingstone has always been something else.

You really just can’t compare it to any other hospital in the country.

There’s no place like it.”