Thursday – June 2nd: Today we went to a clinic in Nyamwegabira, run by the Catholic Church (See the video clip here). The clinic is comprised of two buildings, a maternity ward and a general treatment building. In order to run ultrasound and computer equipment, power is an obvious concern. When we asked what the energy situation was like, the response was “Very good.” When we really pressed to determine the definition of “very good” Sr. Helen revealed that the clinic loses power approximately two days every week. I think for Paul, he got his first real sense of how everything is relative. If we lose power two or three times a year, and for more than an hour or so at a time, we begin to grumble about the hardship and imposition of such unstable power. For these people, who not many years back had no power, not having power 30% of the time is considered “very good.” I guess also from the perspective of the many neighboring locations that are not on a grid and have no power other than battery and the occasional solar power setup, this really does constitute very good power.
The two delivery rooms are very small such that both could fit into a large school or work office. The setup consists of a bed, some surgical tools in a bucket of water, and a rubber ball to chew on (in the absence of pain killers). Paul’s only exposure to medicine has been the ultra sterile, well-accoutered, hospitals within the States. When he saw these conditions he stated that he could “hardly imagine how they can work like this especially when contrasted with the immaculate, white operating rooms and troves of technology in the States.” I do not want to imply that everything is terrible here, as it is not, but instead to give an accurate perspective of how different things are here. The people are incredible, and they can do extraordinary things with very little, but the disparity and the poverty is overwhelming and shocking when you allow the comparisons room in your consciousness.
The highlight of many days was getting to hold healthy newborn babies. This baby is actually the daughter of the smiling nurse seen in the background. Now that my youngest child is four, I guess I am allowed to start becoming nostalgic about holding such delicate, precious, innocent life.
There is one aspect of medicine in Uganda, which far exceeds our methods in the States. Many of the clinics have their own technicians who can analyze blood samples and give a diagnosis within minutes. We came to appreciate this fact. At breakfast, as seen in the picture, Allan was looking a bit haggard. On the drive over the van was absent of the normal banter. Allan did not exhibit his normal light-hearted character. Instead, he lay on the back seat drowsing in and out of sleep, obviously not feeling well. While Paul and I tested signal strength and internet upload speeds, Allan was tested for and diagnosed with malaria. He was started on a course of drugs within minutes and then went out to the van parked under a large tree in an attempt to sleep off the misery. I didn’t have the heart to take a picture of him during such misery.
The next day, as he started to feel better, I didn’t feel such remorse (as you can see from the associated picture).
Within a few days, Allan (AKA – the mayor of malaria) was doing much better and almost back to “normal.”
