In the quaint, chilly village of Bhawali, in Nainital district, nestled amongst pine trees, a 104-year-old government-run hospital treats tuberculosis (TB). With close to 150-functional beds, the TB Sanitorium perched on top of the hill, is now a fading glory. An elderly staffer wonders who would want to visit this remote hospital. He eagerly introduces you to the nurse-on-duty, who promptly brings out a face mask, your only shield against Mycobacterium Tuberculae.
In the male ward, a sixty-year-old old man gasps for breath, holding the oxygen mask as he acknowledges our presence. "This is the emergency ward," points out the nurse. "However, we have no ventilators. For any critical case, we refer them to district headquarters at Haldwani or further to Delhi," she says.
In the neighbouring dormitory, young men in their mid-twenties are withering away on cots. "Average weight of a patient who comes here is between thirty to forty kilos. No more," says the nurse.
Patients from as far as Mumbai or Delhi, who know of the facility, seek admittance in hope of a quicker recovery. Ram Yadav, in his late forties, sits upright on his bed, and folds his hands in greeting. A native of Haldwani, the capital of Nainital district, downhill. He contracted TB when working in Mumbai. "I lived and worked in cramped conditions of a restaurant kitchen in Colaba. After contracting TB, I returned home and then landed in this hospital. We have the best rehabilitative facility in the hills. I could not bear the heat of plains anymore. It would worsen my illness," Yadav said.
Fresh mountain air helps in curing TB, explains Dr Ajay Sharma, in-charge of Community Health Centre at Bhawali. "Growth of the disease stalls in cold temperatures. The construction of the hospital at this height was a very well thought of idea. This was way back in 1912."
The elderly staffer says in the 1970s, the operation theatre (OT) was abuzz. "Master surgeons operated on numerous cases a day" he says. Behind the main building, the OT has now been shut for over 40 years. Through glass windows, you can see rectangular glass boxes in a neat row. Lungs of all shapes and sizes float precariously in formalin-based solution. Half white, half black, leathery in appearance, with holes in them, reminiscent of an erstwhile patient's infection stand testimony to surgeries that occurred half a century ago.
Alongside is a 3-month-old fetus. "Many years ago, the surgeon aborted the fetus of a TB-infected woman, and saved her life," the staffer reminisces.
Diagnostic machines once worth a few crores are gathering dust. "Only two of eleven sanctioned doctor posts are filled. They are physicians. No surgeons come here. Neither are there many technicians. My brother, who was an X-ray technician here, died of TB in 2009," the staffer says.
A dainty green and white structure, the 'Kamla Nehru Cottage,' appears. Former Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru's wife Kamla Nehru was admitted in the hospital in 1935, between March 10 to May 15. Nehru visited his wife six times in the hospital. She later was fit enough to travel to Switzerland, where she breathed her last.
Other cottages, close to twenty of them, are in shambles now. "These are private paid cottages replete with a patient room, an attendant room, kitchen and the works. They are crumbling. No one has paid attention to their upkeep," says the staffer.
Thirty-year-old Raju, resident of Okhla in New Delhi is staying with his TB-struck wife Seema, for a month now. Seema looks happy. "The hill air is helping her recover. The TB medication is extremely harsh. The hot weather in Delhi made it impossible for Seema to sustain the medicines. She would turn nauseous and throw up. That is when doctors suggested admitting her here," said Raju.
Twenty lakh persons are detected with Tuberculosis in India every year, but few know of this quaint retreat that aids recovery.
