Bahama Drama

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The Price of a Heartbeat

The Price of a Heartbeat

​It’s all about the money. 💰

​We say those words so often they’ve started to lose their sting, until it’s your father, your sister, or your best friend gasping for air in the backseat of a car outside a locked glass door.

​Just ask the families across Nassau and the Family Islands who have watched the “second hand” of life run out while they were being asked for a credit card. Imagine the agony of watching a loved one die in real-time, not because the medicine didn’t exist, but because the bank account didn’t have enough zeros.

​Whatever happened to the Hippocratic Oath?
​Every doctor stands before their peers and promises to “do no harm.” But what happens to that oath when you work for an institution that measures a life by a deposit? Does the oath break when the door stays shut? Does the soul of our medical profession wither when we prioritize the ledger over the pulse?

​That is something we truly need to sit with.
​Last week, a man, someone’s son, perhaps a father, a neighbor, died of a heart attack. He didn’t die because his heart was too weak; he died because his pockets weren’t deep enough to get him through the door to the professionals who could have saved him.

​In a country as small and as tight-knit as ours, how did we let “insufficient funds” become a death sentence? We are better than this. We have to be. ​Because the next time the clock starts ticking, it could be any one of us. 🇧🇸💔

Bahama Drama says:

Y’all ain’t got no love for a life over money 💰

Sad… 😭

The Price of a Heartbeat

​It’s all about the money. 💰

​We say those words so often they’ve started to lose their sting, until it’s your father, your sister, or your best friend g
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