{"id":2781,"date":"2025-05-04T09:08:34","date_gmt":"2025-05-04T07:08:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/?p=2781"},"modified":"2025-05-04T09:13:44","modified_gmt":"2025-05-04T07:13:44","slug":"serbias-crisis-no-emergency-medical-protocols-a-familys-loss","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/2025\/05\/04\/serbias-crisis-no-emergency-medical-protocols-a-familys-loss\/","title":{"rendered":"Serbia\u2019s Crisis: No Emergency Medical Protocols \u2013 A Family\u2019s Loss"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The lack of emergency medical protocols Serbia led to a nine-year-old girl\u2019s tragic death\u2014just days before Christmas. She dreamed of Santa Claus, but a systemic failure stole her future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Due to the absence of emergency medical protocols in Serbia, a nine-year-old girl\u2019s life was tragically cut short\u2014just days before Christmas. She dreamed of Santa Claus, but a systemic failure stole her future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was only nine years old. She dreamed the dreams all children do, eagerly awaiting Santa Claus, who was supposed to arrive in just two days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t get the chance to write her first poems, though she often said she\u2019d become a poet one day. She didn\u2019t finish learning her division tables, but she knew how to share a smile with everyone around her.”
“Her drawings adorned the walls of her home\u2014colorful worlds where there was always room for dragons, unicorns, and kind hearts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was one of those children whose gaze made you wonder how so much tenderness and wisdom could fit into such a small being. She loved to ask \u201cwhy?\u201d\u2014not out of stubbornness, but from a genuine thirst to understand the world. She had plans: to learn to play the guitar, to write a book, to master making \u201cthat strawberry cake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But above all, she had a life ahead of her. One big, unopened gift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In those days, she was writing a letter to Santa Claus. The Christmas tree was already decorated, a paper snowflake taped to the window. She didn\u2019t ask for much\u2014just a book and a plush horse. And one New Year\u2019s Eve she could stay awake to see. She was happy, excited, and she believed\u2014because she still believed in miracles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On December 28, 2024, while others were planning where to ring in the New Year, she was at a small celebration with her uncle. They didn\u2019t have much, but they had each other\u2014and enough reasons to laugh. They listened to music, lit sparklers on the balcony, and made plans to toss a coin for luck at midnight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She ate something sweet, maybe too much, but who counts at the end of December? Her uncle remembers how she hummed a melody he didn\u2019t recognize, how she lit sparklers and tried to catch the mist of her breath in the cold air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That evening, they watched a cartoon together, and then she slipped under the blanket and whispered, \u201cJust one more story, then I\u2019ll sleep.\u201d She laughed, tired from a day full of play and twinkling lights. Then she fell asleep\u2014peacefully, with a faint smile, as the glow of the Christmas tree lights danced across the ceiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing that day hinted at an ending. Everything smelled of beginnings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around five in the morning, a sharp pain in her stomach woke her. She didn\u2019t cry; she just quietly got up and stumbled to the bathroom. Soon, the sound of vomiting echoed. Her uncle first thought it was spoiled food or too many sweets, until he saw her return\u2014pale, hunched, clutching the wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Halfway back to bed, her body simply gave out. As if someone had switched off the light inside her. She collapsed to the floor without a sound. First her knees buckled, then her shoulders. Then silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her uncle rushed to her, calling her name. She didn\u2019t respond. She was breathing, but faintly. Her eyes were half-open, as if she were slipping away even while still there. He tried to lift her, to get her back to bed, to bring her back to life with trembling hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, come on, sweetheart, just lie down\u2026 come on\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But she couldn\u2019t. Her head slumped onto his shoulder. And then panic set in. His hands were too slow, the phone too far, the light too dim, time too sluggish. Everything went quiet\u2014not the quiet of fairy tales, but the quiet that tells you something is irrevocably changing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In those moments, when your child lies helpless on the floor, unable to speak their own name, you don\u2019t think. You don\u2019t look for blame. You don\u2019t check the time. You just call for help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her uncle grabbed the phone. His fingers shook as he dialed 1-9-4. That was supposed to be the number for salvation. The number that doesn\u2019t ask questions\u2014it just comes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because that\u2019s what we all believe: that somewhere, there\u2019s a system. That behind the line, there\u2019s someone trained, ready, obligated to help. That there\u2019s a state that doesn\u2019t ask if it should help, but comes because it must.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But they didn\u2019t know the system didn\u2019t exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The doctor on the line asked questions\u2014not to understand the child\u2019s condition, but to find reasons not to send a team. Each follow-up question felt like a pre-prepared filter for refusal, not an attempt to help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoes she have a fever?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did she eat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow many times did she vomit?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she heard that the child was lying on the floor, unable to stand, barely responsive, she didn\u2019t take it as a call for urgent action. She took it as a complication disrupting her routine. Instead of treating the information that the child \u201ccan\u2019t move\u201d as critical, she asked a question that explains everything:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, how are you going to transport her? Taxi, car\u2026 Why are you asking me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no medicine in those words, no empathy. Just the defensive wall of bureaucracy. Instead of seeking a solution, she sought an excuse. As if she weren\u2019t speaking to a desperate man holding a helpless child in his arms. As if the distraught citizen were the problem, not a symptom of a system that had crumbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then, her uncle broke. Not because he was reckless, but because he no longer knew who to turn to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause you\u2019re the emergency service!\u201d he shouted. \u201cBecause you take money from people who pay taxes to this damn state! If I were some bastard from the SNS, you\u2019d have come, wouldn\u2019t you? That\u2019s the trick, isn\u2019t it? Does a child have to die on the floor?! Does a child have to die?!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t cursing. It was collapse. The cry of a man who no longer begs, because he knows there\u2019s no one to beg.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In that moment, he wasn\u2019t just an uncle. He was every citizen who ever called the state\u2014and got silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, a male voice came on the line\u2014a doctor who, by all indications, had no idea what was happening on the other end. The uncle, at the edge of his strength and sanity, repeated the question that had gone unanswered from the start:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust tell me how to transport her. I can\u2019t move her. The child is lying down. She can\u2019t stand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He paused, as if searching for air he could no longer breathe. And then, broken, he erupted in despair:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI told your colleague\u2014if I were some bastard from the SNS, you\u2019d have come! But like this\u2014who gives a damn! You didn\u2019t come for my dead mother! If I were someone from the party, someone with a position\u2014you\u2019d have come!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then\u2014the response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One sentence, delivered almost mechanically:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSir\u2026 sir, you\u2019re a bastard even without the SNS. Have a nice day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Click. The line went dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Maybe that man truly didn\u2019t know. Maybe no one told him that a little girl lay on the floor, unable to speak, move, or breathe properly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But that\u2019s the tragedy. In that sentence. In that hung-up phone. In the absence of any basic human response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That morning, it wasn\u2019t just the system that failed. Empathy failed. Professionalism failed. Responsibility failed. Healthcare failed. The state failed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everything failed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The phone slipped from his hand. He didn\u2019t have the strength to pick it up. He no longer knew who to call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was half-past five in the morning. The child lay on the floor, barely conscious. Her head rested on his arm, her breathing shallow, her body cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around them\u2014silence. Walls. Darkness slowly losing its battle with the gray of dawn. And in his mind\u2014chaos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He racked his brain for names. Who could come? Who has a car? Who\u2019s awake at this hour? Should he call a taxi? Can a taxi driver take a child who can\u2019t sit up? Who do you turn to when the system hangs up on you?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Helplessness wasn\u2019t a word then. It was the room. It was everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somehow, they managed to get her to the hospital. To the doctors. To the system that was supposed to pick up where the emergency service left off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it was too late.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The girl passed away that same day, in the afternoon. While others walked through holiday crowds and planned their New Year\u2019s celebrations, one family was left with nothing. No meaning. No answers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And no child who just wanted to stay awake for New Year\u2019s Eve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this country, you can pay taxes, believe in institutions, teach your child to call 194 in an emergency\u2014and still be left alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This wasn\u2019t an accident. This was the consequence of a system that doesn\u2019t exist. The consequence of laws that aren\u2019t enforced. Of a ministry that, for five years, hasn\u2019t issued the regulations the law demands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is the result of a state that hasn\u2019t written down when a life must be saved\u2014so today, no one has to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this country, if you\u2019re not \u201csomeone,\u201d your child can die on the floor. And the only response you\u2019ll get is\u2014click.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After New Year\u2019s, the family gathered what little strength they had left. They turned to a friend, a lawyer, believing that at least in the justice system, someone would say, \u201cThis shouldn\u2019t have happened.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then came the first response\u2014an internal review report from the Emergency Medical Service.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What they read wasn\u2019t insight. It wasn\u2019t an investigation. It wasn\u2019t the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a second blow. A second death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because a family dies again when they realize the state won\u2019t stand with them. That the system isn\u2019t there to protect citizens and patients\u2014but to protect itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The report contained no admission of error. No compassion. No names. Just cold bureaucratic language in which a child isn\u2019t a child, but a \u201ccall,\u201d and an uncle\u2019s panic\u2014\u201cdifficult communication.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t matter that the child lay on the floor, unable to stand, that help was refused. What mattered was that protocols were \u201cnot formally violated.\u201d What mattered was that the system didn\u2019t admit it failed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because if it did\u2014it would have to change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, instead of justice, the family got a report that silenced them. Instead of accountability\u2014blame-shifting. Instead of acknowledgment\u2014a cold document stating that \u201call procedures were followed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the procedure, let us remind you, didn\u2019t even exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When a Report Seeks Excuses, Not Truth<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The internal review report didn\u2019t provide answers. It didn\u2019t bring clarity. It didn\u2019t reveal the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It delivered another slap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of recognizing failure, the report tries to mask it\u2014to cover up the doctors\u2019 responsibility and turn a desperate man\u2019s frustration into a problem that needs \u201ccommunication improvement.\u201d In that document, the child didn\u2019t die due to systemic neglect. She died because the caller \u201chindered communication.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because when a system wants to preserve itself, truth is the first thing erased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The internal review not only ignores the core issue but attempts to discredit the uncle\u2014a man who, at dawn, holding a lifeless child, begged for help. They call him agitated, aggressive, as if emotion in such a moment is inappropriate. As if he should have stayed silent and waited, accepting without reaction that the system wouldn\u2019t send a team\u2014while the child died on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This narrative isn\u2019t a mistake. It\u2019s a strategy. Deliberate and cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Because admitting fault would mean admitting the system doesn\u2019t work. And that\u2019s what this system fears more than any death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of addressing the fact that the doctor refused to send a team despite serious symptoms, the report carefully chooses words to protect the institution. Not a single point acknowledges professional failure. Instead of confronting the mistake, it offers a \u201crecommendation for communication improvement.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Moreover, the doctor\u2019s own statement makes it clear that consulting a colleague wasn\u2019t for clinical purposes but solely to \u201ccalm the caller\u201d\u2014as she herself put it, \u201cusing male authority.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite this, the internal review report includes the phrasing:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt cannot be determined with certainty whether a team would have been dispatched after consultation with a colleague.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This artificially creates room for doubt, even though the doctor\u2019s own statement shows the consultation wasn\u2019t even attempted to reassess the medical decision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In other words\u2014the system claims it doesn\u2019t know if it would have helped, even though all evidence shows it never intended to try.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

So, the problem isn\u2019t that the child didn\u2019t get help. The problem is that someone demanded too loudly that their child not die.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But what really happened isn\u2019t in the report.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This isn\u2019t analysis. It\u2019s an excuse. It\u2019s an institutional shield placed over its own mistakes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While the family buries their child, the system writes reports to bury responsibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Voices of Justice\u2014Stories That Must Not Remain Untold<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

*This is the fourth story in the series \u201cVoices of Justice\u201d, through which the Right to Life Movement \u2013 MERI documents the testimonies of families who lost their loved ones due to systemic failures in emergency services\u2014and due to the silence that kills.*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This story comes from Belgrade. It is not backed by cameras, political positions, or famous names\u2014just one child. One letter to Santa Claus. One number that didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Read the first story<\/a>, about the death of Stevan Tomi\u010di\u0107 from Ba\u010dka Palanka, to whom an emergency team was not sent despite multiple calls for help, here:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Read the second story<\/a>, about the death of Merita Bekirovski and the beginning of the fight that sparked an entire movement, here:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Read the third story<\/a>, about Marinko Rudakov, who was left without help because they don\u2019t respond after 7 p.m., here:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If we stay silent, there will be more. If we write, we remember. If we speak, we fight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The lack of emergency medical protocols Serbia led to a nine-year-old girl\u2019s tragic death\u2014just days before Christmas. She dreamed of Santa Claus, but a systemic failure stole her future. Due to the absence of emergency medical protocols in Serbia, a nine-year-old girl\u2019s life was tragically cut short\u2014just days before Christmas. She dreamed of Santa Claus, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2791,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_eb_attr":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[48],"tags":[26,30,39,25,28,38,31,55],"class_list":["post-2781","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-english","tag-healthcare-system-serbia","tag-justice-denied","tag-lives-lost-to-silence","tag-medical-negligence","tag-right-to-life-movement","tag-serbia-healthcare-crisis","tag-systemic-failure","tag-voice-of-justice"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2781","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2781"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2781\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2793,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2781\/revisions\/2793"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2791"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2781"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2781"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pokretmeri.org.rs\/home\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2781"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}