Bill Hulme, Tom Ingram, and David Lonsdale-Eccles
share their experiences of Shangri-La
On arriving in Lhasa, we found that our more cynical suspicions
of "Shangri-la" were sadly confirmed. The city, which at one time
comprised Tibet's religious core of the Potala palace, the Barkor
square, Jokang temple, and a few houses, has been transformed in
40 years into a massive patchwork of Chinese style, bathroom tiled
buildings sprawling for miles along the valley. Traditional Tibetan
buildings have made way for neon lights and brothels lining the
holiest pilgrimage routes throughout the city.
A&E departments
An Italian non-governmental organisation, Comitato Internazionale
per lo Sviluppo dei Popoli (CISP), has set up and partly funded
the foundation of Tibet's first emergency departments. The scheme
has been running now for three years, and the prevailing attitude
of the local doctors was that the Lhasa accident and emergency ward
was the best in Tibet. This was soon put to the test as the casualties
started to roll in by foot, taxi, or ambulance. We were soon hedging
our bets on whether it would be another nomad who had been fighting
with a knife, a prostitute deliberately overdosing on Tibetan medicine,
or someone who had been in a road traffic accident.
The Chinese and Tibetan staff dealt with these tasks in a confident
manner, but we soon realised that sometimes their prioritising of
them was somewhat different to ours. We were once left dumbfounded
when we found that a penetrating stab wound had been immediately
stitched up without attending to the patient's airway, and by then
the patient had stopped breathing and was beyond resuscitation.
The CISP doctor and nurse have given regular training on the job
plus advanced trauma life support and advanced cardiac life support
training sessions on many occasions over the years, but it seems
that this practice is not fully implemented yet.
Healthcare system
China is now considered the focus of the communist system since
the collapse of the Soviet Union. We therefore imagined a healthcare
system based on universal access and equality for all citizens.
It was a surprise that it is in fact a completely private system
where even the most basic investigations and treatments are paid
for in cash and on the spot. Unconscious patients had their pockets
searched for enough money to pay for an x ray film, or they
simply did not receive one at all. The prices of some of these interventions
were often in excess of what a rural worker would earn in six months,
and so many could not afford even the most basic levels of care
necessary to keep them alive in the department. Half of doctors'
pay comes directly from prescribing and carrying out procedures,
and many patients with seemingly trivial illnesses were admitted
to the ward at Rmb200 a night (£15), with intravenous antibiotics
at extra cost, which would drain the resources of a family for weeks.
This may explain why many Tibetans seek help from traditional herbalists
in Lhasa.
The charity initially wanted to supply the hospital with previously
lacking reliable water, electricity, and heating supplies, whereas
the hospital directors requested 40 ambulances with satellite tracking
for Lhasa's 200 000 population, in addition to a computer network
and computed tomography scanners for the department. The Italian
doctor present eventually managed to formulate a plan for an emergency
medical care system throughout Tibet, with promises of high tech
equipment to follow at a later stage. When we were there medical
equipment worth $100 000 was delivered to NagQu district hospital
to set up an emergency room, which also required painstaking training
of the staff in trauma management. In the past, ventilators and
high tech scanning equipment donated to Lhasa hospital by Japanese
companies, but the erratic power supply and lack of trained technicians
left them collecting dust after a few weeks. Money is not everything
We have come to the conclusion since our brief stay of seven weeks
in Lhasa and in NagQu district hospital that funds alone will not
completely cure the problems facing the healthcare system in Tibet.
Life expectancy in Tibet is only around 45 years; death is usually
caused by trauma, ischaemic heart disease, and "sky disease" (stroke).
These can largely be attributed to preventable risk factors such
as diet, smoking, and undiagnosed hypertension. Hygiene conditions
have definitely improved in the larger settlements in the past 40
years, but it is still common practice to defecate in the street.
The biggest impact on overall health and life expectancy has been
basic healthcare and public health interventions to reduce smoking
and improve the diet. Facilities such as computed tomography and
magnetic resonance image scanning, so sought after in Lhasa, have
little impact in a country where most die without ever reaching
any hospital or clinic, which could be three days away. The hospitals,
in trying to catch up with the rest of China, need to have basic
hygiene and sanitation inside their buildings and a health policy
that tackles the widespread poverty, poor diet, and lifestyle outside.
CISP is now trying to work on the next Stage - the aim is to improve
the treatment of victims of accidents, poisonings, and fights by
managing those who would die without basic trauma care. Instead
of merely throwing money at the problem, training staff on the ground
and allowing affordable treatment to the poorer people by means
of basic, robust equipment seem to be far more effective. It seems
that the existing health system caters only for the newly emerging
upper classes and has forgotten the remaining population, which
needs equal priority in all aspects of medicine.
It is obvious that China faces problems caused by the strain on
resources that results from its huge population. Cooperation with
other countries in trade and help in building its infrastructure
might ensure that all have access to basic care and also provide
an invaluable lesson for all parties concerned.