WHY does a tragedy have to happen before the government acts? The question was put on Wednesday by DISY deputy Christos Taramountas, who is acting as lawyer for the family of Eleni Zachariou, who died after a procedure went wrong at a private gynaecology centre in Limassol.
How often have we said ‘the government must act before a tragedy occurs’? How often has the government procrastinated, stalled, postponed action on an issue? Too often.
Today’s autopsy will shed light on what caused Zachariou’s death. Its results will to a great degree determine the action taken by the Health Ministry, the Medical Association and the police.
It may well emerge that Zachariou’s death was a tragic occurrence caused by factors beyond the control of the doctors involved. It may not. But whatever the coroners’ conclusions today, the government medical services have some very uncomfortable questions to answer.
The centre that carried out the procedure was not licensed under the current law governing private clinics. So far, the authorities have been unclear as to its exact status. Health Minister Dina Akkelidou on Wednesday suggested it had been licensed under an old law but had not come into line with new regulations imposed in 2001. Others have suggested it was never licensed in the first place, while others still have argued it escaped the regulative net by operating as a gynaecological centre rather than a fully-fledged clinic.
Whatever the situation, the medical services knew that something was wrong. The Inspector of Private Clinics, Constantinos Mallis, had apparently written to the doctor running the centre ordering him to close it down back in May. When nothing happened, he had then formally asked – through the Attorney-general’s office – for police to intervene. Police, however, were then called off the investigation by a second letter from Mallis asking them to suspend their investigation.
This situation has come to public light because somebody died. What is worrying is the government’s own admission that many other clinics are in a similar situation. One official at the Health Ministry said that enforcement of many provisions laid out in the 2001 law had been put on hold until the end of this year, while Akkelidou admitted there were many clinics still unlicensed under the new law.
It may be that the government machinery was dealing with the issue… in its own time. But that’s not good enough. We’re not talking about licences to run a kiosk: we’re talking about clinics and medical centres, which literally deal with cases of life and death. The authorities have known since May about this particular case; yet by late November, the process – though under way – had failed to close the clinic.
Surely things are the wrong way round. As soon as there is a problem, a clinic should be closed until it fulfils the conditions for safe operation, then licensed and allowed to reopen; it should not be allowed to continue practising until the authorities get round to closing it down.
The only hope is that this tragic case will shock the authorities into a more active approach. People are going to clinics every day, putting their lives in the hands of doctors and nurses, who they assume are licensed and qualified. They are entitled to the protection and the control of the state authorities. Perhaps the government will now get its act together… or will we have to wait for another tragedy?
