February 17th, 2010 Posted in Uncategorized | No Comments »
So, I really haven’t talked about what daily life is like here. The day
starts for me when the sun wakes me up, around 0615. We do a ward round at
7, which usually lasts 2-3 hours with out current patient load. We then
return for breakfast, which is usually fruit and sago pancake or bread. On
weekdays, we usually do another ward round at 1100, which is usually
shorter, and then have lunch, which is usually similar to breakfast. The
afternoon is often free, unless we have a very sick patient or something
else going on. Today, I supervised the school children while they watched
the Planet Earth videos from the discovery channels. Yesterday afternoon,
I went paddling in the canoe with Dr. Valerie. They carve their canoes out
of tall, narrow trees. They are narrow enough that my hips barely fit
inside, so you can imagine how easy it would be to tip out! We actually
managed not to fall in the river, which is good since there can be some
crocodiles in this area.
At four, we walk through the hospital and check on the patients. Sometimes
we see new patients that have come in during the afternoon. Some days we
do scans with the new ultrasound machine. Yesterday, we did a paracentesis
(putting a needle into a belly full of fluid). There is usually a little
free time afterwards before dinner. Between about 630 and 700, the main
generator comes on, which is the signal to go over for dinner. We eat,
then usually have a little time for e-mail and such before our final walk
through the hospital at 900. This can be short or long depending on the
patients. We have had several sick ones, so I have been there almost to
1100 at times. Then, I come back to the doctors house and have a
shower. The shower is a bucket shower. You fill a bucket up at the tap,
then pour the bucket into another one with holes that is suspended from the
ceiling. You then stand under it, turn the valve, and shower. It’s quite
efficient actually, but it was made for much shorter people! I have to
duck my head quite a bit to wash my hair. The big generator is shut off at
1000, so I usually shower in the dark or with flashlight. Then, I go back
to the girls dormitory, crawl under the mosquito net and sleep.
Today, I delivered a baby before ward rounds. Rather, I caught the baby as
it came flying out when no one was ready. This was the mother’s fifth
baby. We knew she had progressed into the second stage of labor and were
discussing who was going to deliver it when the mother said it was
coming. I barely got my gloves on and the head was coming out. I put some
pressure on the head to slow it down, as mom had just had a big bowel
movement. Dr. Valerie wiped the stool away and I let up and the rest of
the baby flew out with no help necessary from me. It was a very healthy
baby boy.
We have also had a difficult time with one of our patients for the last few
weeks. Morea is an eleven-year-old boy who presented with profound ascites
(lots of fluid accumulates in the belly, making it very tight and
distended). This is not uncommon with the endemic TB in the area, so we
began treating him for TB ascites, but he did not improve. He has a
history of hepatitis, but he was not jaundiced (yellow-orange) like we
would expect with liver failure. Despite TB treatment, antibiotics, and
drugs for amebic disease, he made no improvement. We finally did a
paracentesis to try to relieve his discomfort. We dipped a urine test
strip in the fluid, which showed no white blood cells (a good thing). The
fluid was colored by rifampin from the TB treatment but was otherwise
pretty clear. This would fit with TB ascites, but he should have been
improving based on the staff’s experience. We did an US which showed a
normal-looking liver, a very large spleen, and no other abnormality. A
malaria test was negative.
Poor Morea has been absolutely miserable, having trouble keeping down food
and water due to the pressure in his belly. Yesterday he asked us to do
another paracentesis to relieve the pressure. You know a child is really
hurting when he asks for you to put a needle in his belly. His parents are
very invested in him, and it is always difficult to watch their sorrow. We
know that we have exhausted all our treatment options. Without even basic
laboratory tests and a CT scanner, it is difficult to make a
diagnosis. Last night, we typed up a letter or referral for him to go to
Port Moresby. Often the parents will not take them because it is very
expensive to take home a dead body. Thus, often they will simply take
their relative home to die. This set of parents is very invested in their
child and decided to make the trip and see if anything can be done. The
father is a teacher, so they are a little more educated and have a little
more money. We all gathered to pray over him before they left
today. After we prayed, the father started to tell us thank you for all
that we had done to try and help his son, and he started sobbing. It is so
hard to watch a parent grieve for their child. I can’t even begin to
imagine how difficult it has been for them to watch him suffer so much and
to know that he may not survive. It brought tears to my eyes and Dr.
Valerie’s to watch them cry for their child. We said another prayer for
them, too, then took a few pictures of him sitting on Dad’s shoulders as
they left for the boat to Kerema. It is very sad. We all hope that with
better diagnostics that the staff in Port Moresby might find a treatable
cause, but his disease process is likely to be significant based on the
profound ascites. Dr. Valerie talked with them, and Morea said that he
knew about Jesus. She talked with his father about talking with him,
seeing if he had any little things to confess or talk about, since he may
not survive. We hope that the whole family has been able to feel the love
of Christ through the staff while they were here.
Additionally, I thank everyone for their prayers for my safety, as they
were put to the test. They have a contraption here called the Flying Fox,
which is pulley and handle that allows you to glide along a wire down into
the river. It’s good fun. Unfortunately, I had enough sunscreen and sweat
on my hands that I slipped off in the process of launching and fell about
15-20 feet into a shallow river. I landed on my back and went all the way
and hit the bottom of the river, which fortunately was soft mud. I had
missed the bank by only about one foot. I have a bruised back and had a
headache for the first day but am otherwise alright. During low tide, I
looked at the river bottom, and there were several tree trunks and branches
around where I landed but I had somehow missed hitting them and only landed
in the mud. God truly does watch over his sheep! Thank you again for all
your prayers!