How many oxygen cylinders can you buy?

Social Media in times of Covid have allowed people to help each other, exchange notes, pass on information and share their experiences. Some posts have been chilling while others inspiring. It is too early yet to assess the impact. Are these posts demoralising people or helping them retain their sanity? Are videos of people dying in hospitals, dead bodies lined up at crematoriums or burning helpful and what psychological impact do they have on people and especially children?

For the moment, however, social media is all people have to vent their frustration, ask questions and sometimes suggest solutions. This week we looked for a few personal experiences that people have shared. We reproduce them as they appeared.

These anecdotes first appeared on social media:

Rituparna Chatterjee, freelance journalist

Those who don't know anything about the struggles involved in procuring oxygen, I hope this grim account helps. Hospitals have put the onus of arranging oxygen on patients. Critical patients are on 24- hour O2 support. A 40-50 litre cylinder will last the night. But the refill is a nightmare.

Oxygen plants generally do not refill individual cylinders, they do so only for hospitals. And hospitals will not take your private cylinders; or if they do, there's a strong chance that they will misplace it.

Cylinders of 10 litres are being sold for Rs.25,000-30,000. The bigger ones for Rs. 60,000-80,000. It takes a minimum of 24 hours to refill a big cylinder. Oxygen plans in Faridabad insist on local identity cards. Black marketeers insist you buy a new cylinder instead of refilling the old one.

Which means if a patient is on O2, like my mother is, every day you are being pressurised to buy a new cylinder instead of refilling. Where do you store? How much can you spend?

Many gas filling agencies are frauds, or they will not refill or they insist on payment in advance and then block your number. I lost Rs 12,000 to one. You are basically running behind time. You have to refill before your cylinder runs out. And every day you fall a little behind.

Sewa agencies which help in refilling as volunteer service, won't do it every day for one party. So, every day you have to look for new places to refill. Lines start early in the morning and takes up the entire day.

I am sorry for this dismal thread, but in the past few days I saw two persons die in front of my eyes at the covid ward. The son of one and I spent nights outside our respective hospital rooms discussing the situation, swapping leads, helping each other out, sharing. On the last day he ran around the ward begging for a spare cylinder.

I am filled with rage, despair and hopelessness at this healthcare system where a doctor says, "Take Remsdesivir, but we don't have it, see how you can arrange." A vial now costs Rs.45,000 in the black market. This is murder, there is no other word for it.

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A luckier victim gave vent to his feelings in the following post:

“Since I've processed some of the grief of losing my father tragically to this virus, seen my mom struggle in the hospital...and now seeing her recover slowly, helps me breathe peacefully last.

Politics is governance, and all of the issues that we are facing right now are directly related to governance. If only, we had a more competent government, there would be thousands of lives saved. Thousands of families intact with their loved ones.

I wish nobody has to experience the helplessness of seeing your loved one breathe their last from a thousand miles apart, or frantically scramble for oxygen, medicines and hospital beds. Appreciate your loved ones as MUCH as you can, every day. Time waits for no man.”

(If you have experiences to share, write to us)