Clinic Stories

The other night a girl came in that had poisoned herself -- a newlywed married for 2 months! Tons of people came with her, and I was asking around, and apparently that's what the girls do when they have "domestic issues." We tried to give her an alkaline IV solution because she seemed acidotic, gave her glucose, aspirated her stomach, etc.

The next morning she was conscious and better. I had everyone leave the room and then asked her, "Did you drink the bad stuff?" She said yes. When I asked her why, she said, "My husband and I were mad at each other." I was fascinated. I asked her if he hit her and she said yes. I was just TRIPPING out that in the states that is mandated reporting, but oh, no, that is the answer I expected, and the answer everyone around me knew. Whoa. But there were lots of people around, and this one man I could tell was sharp, understanding my questions, and answering them, following my train of thought. I said so to Allyson. I found out a few minutes later he is the kebele chairman -- basically the mayor for this area, a man I have been wanting to meet and that I will be working closely with. I was excited to see he was sharp, and now after this experience, I can ask him questions about it, and it will be a great lead in to psycho/spiritu-o/wholistic health care.

Weekend Call

So I guess its us- Allyson and I- on call this weekend.  The nurse that was supposed to do it had a family emergency.  I hope I hear them if they knock on my door at night....this new house has such nice doors and windows, they seem pretty sound-proof! 

 

Well Friday night I was in bed reading- 11 pm, and they knocked.  This better be a real emergency, I thought.  People that live close to the clinic just show up for any old thing, they're abusing us, and we're going to get burned out, and then we'll leave and close the clinic, then what will they do??  Thus the uglyness of my own thoughts as I pad out to the veranda to greet the guards. 

 

"There is an emergency.  A baby.  Diarrhea."  He's being nice, he knows I don't want to be bothered.  "Should I tell them to come back tomorrow?"  Aaahhh, long sigh, I wish I could get out of this, hmm, ok, I'm coming.  The moon is full and its a bright night, I notice the acachia tree outside my veranda window against the sky.  Allyson and I agreed that we would go together if they called us at night, but I'm sure she's sleeping, and I know how to treat diarrhea, I can't bring myself to call her.  And the night is bright and friendly, I don't mind being out alone.

 

The woman is sitting on the clinic veranda holding a girl.  I'm still muttering to myself that if its not a true emergency, I will send her home without treating her and she can come back in the morning-  if we turn them away once or twice, word will spread that they can't take advantage of us like that...

 

My thoughts are interrupted by my own voice greeting her, and she is friendly and greets back.  How old is her baby?  When did the diarrhea start?  Let's see it- ok, yes, watery, right on her mom's dress.  I feel the girl, and she is hot, and her pulse feels fast.  She hands me the little girl's clinic card and I unlock the door and let them in- she is sick enough to be seen.  I am not being taken advantage of, I am being called to help a girl who is quite sick.  It is more of an inconvenience for them to walk her from home to the clinic than for me to drive half a kilometer to the clinic to see her......

 

The girls mother carrys her in, accompanied by another woman.  They answer my questions articulately, and I have the subconscious gratification of language working- they understand me, I understand them, we are communicating- connecting.  I check her pulse, temp, lungs, she is sick, but we have the meds she needs.  I give her a phenergan injection and instruct them to give her her first dose of Bactrim when they get home with her.  They nod and understand, they are following me.  They pay and take the medicine and I'm closing the clinic.  The guard, Teneshu (pronouned Tennis Shoe), is kind and says to me, "You are tired.  You went to the funeral today and now you have to work at night."  He had seen me in the community earlier that day.  I appreciate his words.  I lock the door and notice again the moonlight, and there is an amazing view of the lake from the clinic.  My moody thoughts are gone, and I am reminded again that I love these people.