Simple Joys

Sometimes it’s the smallest things that bring the greatest joy. This weekend, Laura, Beth and I headed into town to celebrate Beth’s birthday. We enjoyed a spa day and a special meal with our friend Lisa. Beth and I then spent the night in town with Lisa. Simple joys: high-speed internet, hot shower, soft towel, fellowship with friends. An even greater blessing: We are enjoying an unexpected rain storm. It’s pouring outside—it’s been months since we’ve had this much rain!!

Link

Sorry for the very long post I just wrote. I wanted to portray my full experience from the visit.

Bethany has been much better than I have been about blogging. Feel free to catch up on some of our goings-on at her blog: http://bsfitz4.wordpress.com/

"Being a Nurse Is a Very Hard Job"

Tuesday morning, Bethany and I headed to the village clinic to observe the nurse. Bethany had thought it may be a good use of her time while the kids were at school. The nurse was excited to see us. She had us sit while she finished cleaning and then gave a short lesson to the mothers present about the importance of vaccinations. She then invited us into her examination room and called in a mama who had been waiting around. The nurse translated this woman’s story for us: Mary’s (a made-up name) husband had been sick a while back. He was diagnosed with TB and given medication, but he never seemed to get better. Mary was now sick. She wanted to be tested for HIV. The nurse drew a blood sample and then sent Mary out to wait.

 

The nurse then took us outside to weigh the babies. Each mother pulled out a custom-made bag specially designed for the scale hook and then set out undressing her baby. She put her child in the bag (similar to a pair of overalls with really long “handles”) and hung him on the hook. The nurse had us try to figure out the child’s weight. It was always exciting when she agreed with our guess. One child, a 6-week old, weighed on 3 kg. The nurse reprimanded the mother (still a child herself). Apparently this mother refused to breast-feed her baby. Instead, she was feeding her porridge, water, and cow’s milk! The poor baby looked so pathetic and sickly.

 

Back in the exam room, the nurse added new babies to her records and administered vitamin A and worms tablets as needed. She took time to talk to each mother—so many were so young! She spent a bit longer talking to a young mother who stood with a baby on her hip. The nurse later explained this young girl was HIV-positive and had confessed to not taking her meds. Her excuse? She wanted to die. The nurse’s eyes filled with tears: “This is a very hard job.”

 

The next patient came in for family planning. The nurse led us all to the operating room. She had the woman lie down and told Bethany and me to come close. She was going to put an implant in the woman’s arm, and we were going to watch.

 

Wait a second!! This was SO NOT what I had bargained for. Regardless, the nurse proceeded ahead with her “simple” procedure. (Note: If you are in the medical field, please forgive my ignorant medical mumbo-jumbo.)

 

Gloves on. Disinfect area. Dry area. Fill syringe with 2 cc’s lidocaine, 2 cc’s sterile water—total: 4 cc’s. Insert very long needle into skin … At this point, Bethany has backed to the wall and sunken to the floor … Pull needle out and insert again. Pull out ridiculously thick needle … Bethany’s head is down. Is she okay down there? … Insert first implant into arm. Repeat with second one … Is it just me or is it hot in here? Just look away, Rachelle … Tell woman the procedure is over and have her poke the 2 implants in her arm … I need air!!

 

I finally break out of the room and sit on the porch outside. Air is wonderful! I drink some water. Thankfully, I’ve averted passing out. Bethany stumbles out of the room. I stand up to meet her and we collapse on a bench. She closes her eyes and leans her head on my shoulder. This is not good—we’ll never make it back to Tumaini like this!

 

The nurse comes out and starts fanning Bethany. She then grabs her by the arm and nearly drags her to her home behind the clinic. We burst into her living room, greet the man sitting there, and then collapse on the sofa. The nurse plugs in the fan, directs it toward Bethany, and has Bethany lay down. Then she propels me out of the room and back to the clinic. There’s another family planning procedure to perform.

 

And before I know it, I’m back in the operating room observing another procedure. This time, I shamelessly pull out my water and gulp some down. As the needle pierces the skin, I back away toward the wall, making my excuses that I really don’t need to observe the procedure again. The nurse understands. I make it through.

 

Soon, we’re back in the examination room. The first mama returns to have her blood tested, and Bethany arrives amid much laughter. The nurse pulls out the HIV strip test. We sit and wait a few minutes. The nurse tells the woman to return tomorrow for another test. When the woman is gone, the nurse explains, “When one line appears on the test, it is negative. When there are two lines, it is positive.” There are two lines. The nurse looks at us again with tears in her eyes and repeats, “Being a nurse is a very hard job.”

 

Bethany asks her how often she administers an HIV test. “Every day,” is the reply.

 

“How often is the test positive?”

 

“Every day.”

 

What a day. What an experience. It was definitely eye-opening to me. I’m glad for our visit. I think our presence encourage the nurse. She definitely challenged me in her love and compassion for her patients.