I Run From Clowns

Of the things in life that make me uncomfortable, the one thing I did not expect to encounter in Africa was a clown. There is a volunteer group in town from somewhere in Europe that goes to hospitals and does clown things. They have long white lab coats, red noses, crazy hair, and other various creepy things. I can’t give you a good description because the two times they have come to the hospital I have suddenly had an urgent task elsewhere and have disappeared. Some of the children scream. I don’t know if its because they’re having an appropriate reaction to clowns, or because the clowns are white. Sometimes small children are completely terrified of white people and scream and scream while their parents laugh. It's sad.  

The buses that drive all over town that are completely packed are all decorated with various sayings and pictures. Bob Marley is represented on several. There is one that has Apple logos all over it and “Instagram!” on the back. One had Chris Brown and Rihanna gracing the rear windows. Jason Aldean, Eminem, Obama, Mother Mary… a great variety.

We went on a home visit out in the village with the people who deliver water filters. It was so much fun, I like sitting and being with people in their yard. Goats, children, straw mats, clay hut. The kid who had been sick with a GI disease that was the reason for the water filter delivery was doing much better. It was fantastic, he was chubby and smiling. The kid’s older brother was sitting inside their hut, meticulously covering his school notebook with a sheet of dirty newspaper. I have never seen a child fold such precise corners. His dad told him to come see the white people. He stood up and walked out and had the worst bowlegs I have ever seen. They had never gotten it corrected. He was 10. What do you say to a family that asks you to fix that? How do you explain Rickets and growth plates and insanely extensive surgeries?

This has been a good experience, I have learned a lot. However, I am now attempting to make my way back and have some tickets bought. Remember the plane that broke down while we were trying to get the PA students here? Well that airline is still not flying and that was the one my ticket was on. The other airline flies once a week, thankfully on the same day my original ticket was for. The price is now more than doubled. The agenda for tomorrow includes going to the two ticket offices and asking nicely for a refund and for a cheap ticket. Friday is the day for beggars anyways, so I might do a little of that as well.

 

Friday

God is good! I got a full refund on the one ticket and the new ticket for only a little more expensive than is normal. The Swahili speaker who was with me played bad cop. I didn’t play good cop so much as just stood there and smiled and was thankful. Also, the one office had air conditioning, so waiting was just fine with me.

We ultrasounded a lady today... “Congratulations, you have twins!” She sighed. We asked why. It was her second set of twins, which is actually common here. There was a lady at clinic the other day who had 11 kids, including 3 sets of twins. Think about what your life would be like with 3 sets of twins and 5 other children.

A gentleman came in yesterday with a bunch of fluid in the sac around his heart. We used the ultrasound and very, very carefully jabbed an 18g needle down in that and pulled out 300mls of bloody fluid. The fluid was pulled out in 10 ml increments, because that was the biggest syringe we had, and squirted into a rinsed out Mountain Dew bottle. Actually the hospital doesn’t have any syringes that big, we had to send a student to go buy them from a pharmacy down the road. The patient did great and is going home tomorrow.

Another kiddo today woke up out of the coma he had been in the past 3 days, which is always super amazing to see. This particular child had probably 5 or 6 different types of string tied on his limbs, neck, and around his waist. His family had been having trouble affording the medicine, because they had spent so much on “local healers,” I believe is the politically correct term. Whenever you ask the moms about it, they get ashamed and say the grandmother did it. It’s very annoying when they can’t buy medicine, which is very cheap here, because they have spent it all already. Then when the child doesn’t get better, they finally come to the hospital.

After 7 weeks, I now know when it is truly hot. It’s when your forearms sweat. Sweat is a normal, all day occurrence. But let’s get real. Forearm sweat is gross. Today, for example, we packed 9 people in an office about the size of a sardine can. Just kidding, but it’s probably about the size of a queen-size mattress. There is a desk, a bench for ultrasounds, the ultrasound cart, a folding chair, and a cabinet thing already in there. One of the PA students and I were perched on the bench, the doctor behind the desk, a patient sitting on a folding chair that we magically pulled from behind the cupboard. The other PA was behind the door unfortunately, and as his 2 concerned family members came in, they slammed the door open. Another doctor arrived with a question. The janitor also came in, squishing the PA and shoving the second doctor behind the door, then closed the door. There is a window, but no breeze. There’s no fan in that room. We were doing our best Southern lady impressions with EKG books, fanning for all we were worth and watching forearm sweat pop out. Then as the patient and his family were leaving, the next set of 3 people came crowding in. That didn’t count because the door was open and there was movement. Oh, can we talk about the complete lack of waiting turns here? There is no concept of lines, queues, numbers… nothing. It’s called whoever is fastest and loudest and gets their booty in the door first. Patients will come in 3 at a time and just stand there and listen to your entire conversation with the first one before you realize it’s not their family. #nohippa. It makes me so annoyed at clinic. I kick out all the fast moving young people and call the sweet 74 year old post stroke who has to have 2 people help her hobble in. They don’t get angry, they’re cooperative. Or maybe they are angry and I just don’t know angry words or swear words in Swahili, so I just smile and shut the door.

I read this from Jude recently: Be merciful to those who doubt; save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.

It reminded me of this quote by Charles Spurgeon:

“If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.”

What would that look like in our lives?

Love you all and see you soon, Lord willing and the plane don’t break.