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.
