Very often we hear our
elders talk about “good old days” and we too refer to a bygone period as a
golden era. But, without prejudice; it is untrue.
When I look back, many
things have changed since my childhood.
Some of them are quite significant too and I am happy about the change.
One such is invention of the disposable syringes.
I was a very obedient child
and never made fuss over going to school, not even once. But every year during monsoon, there was a
day, I didn’t want to go to school and my parents insisted that I should. Those days, cholera was very rampant and to
combat the epidemic, Government appointed sanitary inspectors (SI) visited
schools. The first time I saw an SI at
school, I did not panic like my seniors.
To me, he was just another visitor. But what I experienced that day, I
can never forget. I can feel the pain
even today.
My school authorities
welcomed the SI and soon after the morning assembly, set up a table in the
corridor. The SI with the help of an
assistant, (probably a nurse, I am not sure) placed a kerosene stove and boiled
water in a vessel for sterilization.. They
also kept some vials, cotton, a small bottle of antiseptic lotion and a large
syringe. The students were made to stand
in a queue and with the same syringe and needle, the SI injected all
students. He sterilized the needle once
in a while. The teachers not only
ensured discipline in the queue, but also used their authority to make sure
that everyone was inoculated. The nurse
helped in tucking the sleeves and applying antiseptic before and after
injection. While some students cried
after the injection was administered, some wailed in fear even before it was
done. Some bold students tried to break the queue and run away and the school
peon had to chase them and bring them back.
The needle after multiple
uses became so blunt, that it was very difficult for the SI to inject. Some
students bled as the syringe was drawn back and for some, the blood coagulated.
It was so painful and we could feel lumps in the muscle that remained sensitive
for almost a year till the next season.
Though there was no fear of HIV, most of us got a fever after the
ritual. After a year or two, if we had information about the deadly event, our
parents permitted to take leave from school.
Thank God! We have fine
disposable syringes now.
