As exams finish and holidays begin, a new group of student nurses is preparing for their own adventure in Zambia.
Check back regularly as the nurses contribute posts leading up to their arrival in Africa on January 15, 2012!
- Joel
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
This will change you
" Adventure is a path. Real adventure - self determined, self motivated, often risky - forces you to have first hand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagined it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of human kind - and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white."
- Mark Jenkins
Most of us have arrived at our final destinations home, or are at least homeward bound as I write this. It's been an incredible experience, not one easily described with words, or even photographic proof. So please bear with us when you see us, as we try to explain how nothing is really the same anymore.
Missing my makua sisters. Safe travels girls, see you all soon! <3
~Jess (L)
- Mark Jenkins
Most of us have arrived at our final destinations home, or are at least homeward bound as I write this. It's been an incredible experience, not one easily described with words, or even photographic proof. So please bear with us when you see us, as we try to explain how nothing is really the same anymore.
Missing my makua sisters. Safe travels girls, see you all soon! <3
~Jess (L)
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Snaps of Mongu
It has been two days since I left my heart in Mongu. As I sit at our hostel in Livingston I find myself reminiscing about all of the wonderful memories from our time in Mongu that was all too short. They say a picture says a thousand words, so I hope these tell you a little bit about what I saw and loved in Mongu.
heather.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Bye for now, Mongu!
Well I suppose since we have now finished in Mongu, it’s about time for my debut as an official blogger! I have definitely been putting it off… I have been having a hard time deciding what to say or how to say it, but here goes! I decided that I would like to share some of the things that I have learned during my short time here in Zambia, so:
1. Experience is what really makes you an expert! I have discovered this so many times since my very first day at Lewanika Hospital. I started off in OPD (the Emergency/walk-in clinic department) and sat with the clinical officers while they saw patients. A clinical officer has three years of formal training, after which they can assess, diagnose, refer, prescribe medications and perform procedures for all the patients they see – comparable to a doctor at a walk-in clinic at home. They are not considered doctors, however, and would have to complete seven more years of training in order to be one. I honestly couldn’t see any difference in what they do or know as compared to any doctor.
While in a remote village outside of Mongu, we also met the lone trained nurse (two years of school) and her three staff members, one of whom was a man who has no medical training of any kind, doing many of the same things that the clinical officers were doing in the hospital! While I certainly value the importance of learning and school and books, I found that some of these people, in particular the man in the village clinic, had developed an amazing sense of understanding people and their illnesses; he could pick Malaria cases out as if the diagnosis were written on their foreheads, and with great accuracy! Although we still have years of experience to gain, I’m grateful for our time here because it has given us a tiny bit of experience in ways and with people and conditions that we might never see or really understand at home.
2. Everyone deals with difficult situations differently. And along with that, different doesn’t mean wrong! At first I felt almost a bit angry at how indifferent or almost cold some of the health care workers could be at the hospital when dealing with hard cases, such as domestic or sexual abuse or dying babies. I started to realize that maybe they weren’t being cold or indifferent, but were dealing in their own ways with those difficult situations that they often see multiple times in one day.
Even in our own house in Mongu, I had brought the first season of the TV show Glee with me, wondering if that was maybe the most ridiculous thing I could possibly have included in my luggage… It turns out that it was a very useful tool for us to escape some of the stress of the day and get together as a big group to laugh and distract ourselves for 45 minutes! Some people need to be alone, some need to cry, some get angry, some get sick, some push their feelings aside for the moment to focus on the task at hand and some just need a big group hug! While I might not fully understand why some people react the way they do, we all have our own ways and I can respect that!
3. Be grateful – you have no idea how good you have it! Although this is not my first experience in a third-world country, I am always grateful for the renewed understanding of how lucky we are and how humble we should be for what we have. I could list about a gazillion things that we take for granted every single day that we should be grateful for, but I won’t! The difference for me being here in Africa is realizing how blessed we are to have the kind of access to health care, supplies, treatments and services that we do. Even if you have to wait a whole four hours in the walk-in clinic, just be grateful that you didn’t have to walk four hours to get to the walk-in clinic. At the rural clinic I attended, we talked to a young man maybe in his mid-twenties who was blind and had walked/been led hand in hand with his 10 or 11 year old little brother for probably an hour and a half just to have his eyes looked at to see if he would be a candidate for an eye surgery team coming in May (he most likely isn’t a candidate). They thanked us and then got up to walk hand in hand the same distance back to their rural village somewhere else, as if they had just come from around the corner. I love being reminded of how lucky I am and I wish that everyone could really experience these kinds of things to help us remember all those little luxuries that we don’t even think about.
It has been such an experience. Good, hard, sad, happy, all of the above! I have learned so many things, about myself and just human beings in general! Now that we have left Mongu, it seems like we blinked and it is over. I hope that I can always remember to be grateful and more understanding of all the different kinds of us that there are!
See you at home!
Shannon
1. Experience is what really makes you an expert! I have discovered this so many times since my very first day at Lewanika Hospital. I started off in OPD (the Emergency/walk-in clinic department) and sat with the clinical officers while they saw patients. A clinical officer has three years of formal training, after which they can assess, diagnose, refer, prescribe medications and perform procedures for all the patients they see – comparable to a doctor at a walk-in clinic at home. They are not considered doctors, however, and would have to complete seven more years of training in order to be one. I honestly couldn’t see any difference in what they do or know as compared to any doctor.
While in a remote village outside of Mongu, we also met the lone trained nurse (two years of school) and her three staff members, one of whom was a man who has no medical training of any kind, doing many of the same things that the clinical officers were doing in the hospital! While I certainly value the importance of learning and school and books, I found that some of these people, in particular the man in the village clinic, had developed an amazing sense of understanding people and their illnesses; he could pick Malaria cases out as if the diagnosis were written on their foreheads, and with great accuracy! Although we still have years of experience to gain, I’m grateful for our time here because it has given us a tiny bit of experience in ways and with people and conditions that we might never see or really understand at home.
2. Everyone deals with difficult situations differently. And along with that, different doesn’t mean wrong! At first I felt almost a bit angry at how indifferent or almost cold some of the health care workers could be at the hospital when dealing with hard cases, such as domestic or sexual abuse or dying babies. I started to realize that maybe they weren’t being cold or indifferent, but were dealing in their own ways with those difficult situations that they often see multiple times in one day.
Even in our own house in Mongu, I had brought the first season of the TV show Glee with me, wondering if that was maybe the most ridiculous thing I could possibly have included in my luggage… It turns out that it was a very useful tool for us to escape some of the stress of the day and get together as a big group to laugh and distract ourselves for 45 minutes! Some people need to be alone, some need to cry, some get angry, some get sick, some push their feelings aside for the moment to focus on the task at hand and some just need a big group hug! While I might not fully understand why some people react the way they do, we all have our own ways and I can respect that!
3. Be grateful – you have no idea how good you have it! Although this is not my first experience in a third-world country, I am always grateful for the renewed understanding of how lucky we are and how humble we should be for what we have. I could list about a gazillion things that we take for granted every single day that we should be grateful for, but I won’t! The difference for me being here in Africa is realizing how blessed we are to have the kind of access to health care, supplies, treatments and services that we do. Even if you have to wait a whole four hours in the walk-in clinic, just be grateful that you didn’t have to walk four hours to get to the walk-in clinic. At the rural clinic I attended, we talked to a young man maybe in his mid-twenties who was blind and had walked/been led hand in hand with his 10 or 11 year old little brother for probably an hour and a half just to have his eyes looked at to see if he would be a candidate for an eye surgery team coming in May (he most likely isn’t a candidate). They thanked us and then got up to walk hand in hand the same distance back to their rural village somewhere else, as if they had just come from around the corner. I love being reminded of how lucky I am and I wish that everyone could really experience these kinds of things to help us remember all those little luxuries that we don’t even think about.
It has been such an experience. Good, hard, sad, happy, all of the above! I have learned so many things, about myself and just human beings in general! Now that we have left Mongu, it seems like we blinked and it is over. I hope that I can always remember to be grateful and more understanding of all the different kinds of us that there are!
See you at home!
Shannon
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Truth be told
March 7th, 2011
Truth be told, I never imagined I would travel to Africa-- I considered Europe and Australia, but never a third world country. In fact, I hadn't considered joining this expedition until a few months before we arrived. Having a rather diminished bank account after four years of University, I figured that this would be a safe and affordable opportunity to fulfill my post-graduate needs before I begin my career.
Our final days in Mongu have arrived, and the weeks we've spent at Lewanika Hospital have flown by. The differences in healthcare and hospital conditions which were once shocking and eye-opening have become accepted as common place. I, as well as many others, have just become comfortable working within this setting and find it difficult to comprehend that we will soon be enjoying a carefree week in Livingstone.
I have always known that it takes a specific person to be a nurse-- someone with a compassionate heart, a caring soul, and nurturing nature. These are aspects of nursing that we are taught in class and that are continuously admired by stranger when we disclose our career choice. However, I never truly understood nursing the way I do now, as I have learned from the 16 women I have spent a continuous 888 hours with thus far. At times it has been challenging to be in one another's presence on such as constant basis; however, mostly it has been a saving grace. Having someone to play crib or Dutch blitz with, to go for a bike ride, to sit and read quietly...Someone who has witnessed the same tragedy, poverty, helplessness, and pain you have witnessed helps ease the sadness and provide comfort. I think it is safe to say that we have each had a turn to play the therapist, and that we have each had a turn to have our eyes opened to the hardships that plague countries less fortunate than ours.
Undoubtedly, the experiences we have had will change our perspectives of healthcare, change our hardened hearts, change our priorities in life, and change our relationships with one another-- forever.
leah
They Wait Patiently
Where do I begin … my practicum experience has been somewhat unique as I have spent much of my time in the community rather than the hospital. I had the privilege of working alongside some South African missionaries who have set up a camp here to reach out to the surrounding communities. Matoya camp has a school for children, a feeding program for vulnerable babies and their mothers, they employ many people from the community, and the nurse does much to aid in the health of everyone involved. Simply put this place is amazing, it is a beacon of hope for many. As the nurse was out of town on an outreach trip this last week I was asked to work at this camp and be available as health needs arose. Besides troubleshooting some minor problems I also went into peoples' homes located in some of the more poor areas of Mongu. On more than one occasion I would set out to see a sick child at home only to find that there were siblings at home in worse conditions than the one I had set out to see.
I have seen children whose eyes could not be opened due to infections and purulent drainage and the antibiotic these children need is not available in the hospital, or any pharmacy in town, but it may be available tomorrow, and so they wait. I have seen babies that are in the hospital due to excessive malnutrition, but the hospital does not have enough food to feed their patients, and the hours I spend walking around the city looking for the food these babies need is in vain, it is not available until next week, and so they wait. I took a sick child and baby to the hospital the other day, and was given priority over other patients who had been waiting, I was happy to skip the long lines to help these two brothers, although I was also saddened why it worked; the other children did not have a white nurse advocating for them, and so they wait. They wait patiently, and gracefully. They smile at the simplest of gestures, such as saying hello in their local dialect.
Their lives are simple, they live within walls of clay or bamboo, and under roofs made of grass, tin, or plastic, the floor is dirt. They may be poor, but you can see patterns in the sandy dirt left by their brooms made of grass, revealing that someone has swept today. Tiny footprints are remnants of children who may have been playing nearby, often their laughter and excitement to hold your hand is the best welcome to a family's house. They are resilient, their lives are full of heartache and pain, yet they have some of the most infectious smiles you could imagine. Clean laundry may be hung in a tree, or over a fence to dry showing that some of the days chores have been done. They work to eat, they eat to survive, if they cannot work, they often do not eat. They know that we afford a much different lifestyle, and yet they love us, they welcome us into their homes and offer us the best seats in the house. I hope that what I do here can contribute some means of comfort and rest and bring as much healing to their bodies and souls, as they have mine.
"Why Do You Cry? You're Just Leaving"
We leave Mongu the day after tomorrow and this fact causes my heart to ache. A friend of ours here, George, was talking with Heather the other day about people coming to Mongu to work for a period of time and then leaving. He said people are often sad when they leave and he asked, “Why do you cry when you leave? You're just leaving.”
This is true. I'm just leaving. I'm still okay (everything is intact, as far as I know), it's an expected departure, and it doesn't signal catastrophe or disaster. So what is it about Zambia, Mongu in particular, that has burrowed into my heart and holds me here? To help explain this, I want to share with you some of the people I've met here in Zambia.
The nurses, who get up each morning to work at the hospital, facing overwhelming needs and limited resources. Women, who sew beautiful handbags and sell them for about $4 Canadian, providing an income for their families. The Harbour Master here in Mongu, who is going to school to get his Masters in Transportation and Urban Planning to improve trade and living conditions on the land bordering the floodplains. Women in Kalabo (a town near Mongu), who commit to running a feeding program in their town on a volunteer basis, walking over two hours to visit one malnourished child in their home twice a month. A pharmacist, who despite his 5-year degree in pharmacology, works without pay at an HIV clinic in the mornings because the clinic serves approximately 30, 000 people. In the afternoon, he works at a different clinic for a salary. George, who visits schoolchildren and their families throughout the week, building relationships and support – so much so that more than 50 children will show up to play a soccer game that he organizes every Saturday. Their laughter and ease around him demonstrates how his thoughtfulness is empowering them, as they know they are believed in by a role model.
To me, it's easy to see why meeting these people has affected me. What's not easy to understand is why I can leave them at the end of this trip and go back to my “real life” and why they can't. This is the feeling of guilt that accompanies my heartache.
In many ways, I feel as though I've accomplished so little over the past 5 weeks. I haven't been able to “fix” or “solve” many difficult situations at all. Maybe part of the sadness is feeling that much is still unresolved.
But, regardless, we leave on Friday. I'm not sure if I will cry or not, but I am sure my heart will ache. Sorry, George, I am not sure if I can fully explain why.
-Miranda
This is true. I'm just leaving. I'm still okay (everything is intact, as far as I know), it's an expected departure, and it doesn't signal catastrophe or disaster. So what is it about Zambia, Mongu in particular, that has burrowed into my heart and holds me here? To help explain this, I want to share with you some of the people I've met here in Zambia.
The nurses, who get up each morning to work at the hospital, facing overwhelming needs and limited resources. Women, who sew beautiful handbags and sell them for about $4 Canadian, providing an income for their families. The Harbour Master here in Mongu, who is going to school to get his Masters in Transportation and Urban Planning to improve trade and living conditions on the land bordering the floodplains. Women in Kalabo (a town near Mongu), who commit to running a feeding program in their town on a volunteer basis, walking over two hours to visit one malnourished child in their home twice a month. A pharmacist, who despite his 5-year degree in pharmacology, works without pay at an HIV clinic in the mornings because the clinic serves approximately 30, 000 people. In the afternoon, he works at a different clinic for a salary. George, who visits schoolchildren and their families throughout the week, building relationships and support – so much so that more than 50 children will show up to play a soccer game that he organizes every Saturday. Their laughter and ease around him demonstrates how his thoughtfulness is empowering them, as they know they are believed in by a role model.
To me, it's easy to see why meeting these people has affected me. What's not easy to understand is why I can leave them at the end of this trip and go back to my “real life” and why they can't. This is the feeling of guilt that accompanies my heartache.
In many ways, I feel as though I've accomplished so little over the past 5 weeks. I haven't been able to “fix” or “solve” many difficult situations at all. Maybe part of the sadness is feeling that much is still unresolved.
But, regardless, we leave on Friday. I'm not sure if I will cry or not, but I am sure my heart will ache. Sorry, George, I am not sure if I can fully explain why.
-Miranda
Breadcrumbs
I witnessed the most beautiful thing today. Such a small thing really, but after a hard few days it gave me hope and something to cling to.
See, yesterday I tried to resuscitate a baby, and it didn't work. I found the baby taking one breath a minute, and it's heart rate was about half of what it should be. The baby had oxygen tubing in the incubator, but no oxygen was coming out. It was my first day in the post natal ward, and I was just about in panic mode when my teacher Mary came in. She got a doctor to come in, and just as he was about to turn away the baby took one deep shuddering breath. We rushed her to the operating room, which is the only place in the whole hospital that has pure oxygen. The baby was intubated,we breathed for her by pumping the ventilator, but it didn't work, the baby would not breathe on it's own. The baby had gone too much of the night without oxygen, and was now brain dead. Tiny heart still beating, we gave her back to the grandmother along with the news, as the other family burst into desperate, heart rendering wailing. Minutes later the heart stilled, and I fought to hold back tears. I thought I had cried all the tears one could possibly cry, but a few more defiantly spilled out.
That night I tossed and turned, counting into the thousands of rotations my noisy fan makes. I think it helped the family to see that in the end, we did everything we could to bring that baby back. Yet, in Canada I am sure this death wouldn't have happened. The baby would have been closely monitored in a special neonatal ward, the oxygen would be working, with emergency supplies at hand instead of one having to rush all over the hospital to find them. I miss happy endings. I miss being able to intervene and have 90%of cases turn out OK, instead of the other way around.
The next day, physically and emotionally exhausted I took my first sick day and slept the morning away. I thought I was getting so strong, but I just couldn't face another day with another innocent death. That evening it was my turn to cook supper for the group, so Jessica W and I went to the grocery store. While in there a man approached us and asked if we wanted a taxi. Wary now of being ripped off I asked him how much-our rent is high, taxi prices are high, vendor food is all higher than locals pay. Sometimes I get mad, other times I try to comfort myself that the money goes to people who are less fortunate. It's still leaves a bad taste in the mouth to feel taken advantage of though.
However, this doesn't happen ALL the time, and this Taxi driver proved it. He gave us a great rate. As we made our way out of the grocery store, laden with bags of food, a man approached and indicated that he was selling palm trees. The last thing I need is a palm tree, so I shook my head no and got into the taxi. I glanced over and saw the same man approach my driver, who had a bag of bread crumbs next to him. Curious (was he making stuffing that night? Why did he have those-a snack maybe?), I saw him offer them to the man, who cupped his hands together as the taxi driver piled the bread crumbs high. I saw that man beam a smile and turn to another gaunt-looking man and a boy, and share with them. Bread crumbs are probably the cheapest thing you could buy, and my taxi driver did not look near as well off (comparatively)as the other drivers we have used. His stereo did not work, he had no cell phone that I could call again. He could only afford to buy the cheapest thing, but that he happily shared with others.
It put a smile on my face.
See, I want to be like Jesus. I want to serve others, to love others, even when it's not easy and when it costs me. In my reflexive way of trying to defend myself from trying not to be taken advantage of, I missed out on an opportunity. My eyes were opened to how much the people here help each other, the caring that goes on here between people who have little to begin with. What would that look like if we did more of that in Canada? Single moms who need a babysitter for a night, children who have no money to play sports, elderly who can't clean as well as they used to. I am a student, I don't have much money, but there ARE things I can do, both here and in Canada.
So what have I learned here? I learned about breadcrumbs. A picture that I can smile about and clutch close to my heart.
~Hannah Viejou
See, yesterday I tried to resuscitate a baby, and it didn't work. I found the baby taking one breath a minute, and it's heart rate was about half of what it should be. The baby had oxygen tubing in the incubator, but no oxygen was coming out. It was my first day in the post natal ward, and I was just about in panic mode when my teacher Mary came in. She got a doctor to come in, and just as he was about to turn away the baby took one deep shuddering breath. We rushed her to the operating room, which is the only place in the whole hospital that has pure oxygen. The baby was intubated,we breathed for her by pumping the ventilator, but it didn't work, the baby would not breathe on it's own. The baby had gone too much of the night without oxygen, and was now brain dead. Tiny heart still beating, we gave her back to the grandmother along with the news, as the other family burst into desperate, heart rendering wailing. Minutes later the heart stilled, and I fought to hold back tears. I thought I had cried all the tears one could possibly cry, but a few more defiantly spilled out.
That night I tossed and turned, counting into the thousands of rotations my noisy fan makes. I think it helped the family to see that in the end, we did everything we could to bring that baby back. Yet, in Canada I am sure this death wouldn't have happened. The baby would have been closely monitored in a special neonatal ward, the oxygen would be working, with emergency supplies at hand instead of one having to rush all over the hospital to find them. I miss happy endings. I miss being able to intervene and have 90%of cases turn out OK, instead of the other way around.
The next day, physically and emotionally exhausted I took my first sick day and slept the morning away. I thought I was getting so strong, but I just couldn't face another day with another innocent death. That evening it was my turn to cook supper for the group, so Jessica W and I went to the grocery store. While in there a man approached us and asked if we wanted a taxi. Wary now of being ripped off I asked him how much-our rent is high, taxi prices are high, vendor food is all higher than locals pay. Sometimes I get mad, other times I try to comfort myself that the money goes to people who are less fortunate. It's still leaves a bad taste in the mouth to feel taken advantage of though.
However, this doesn't happen ALL the time, and this Taxi driver proved it. He gave us a great rate. As we made our way out of the grocery store, laden with bags of food, a man approached and indicated that he was selling palm trees. The last thing I need is a palm tree, so I shook my head no and got into the taxi. I glanced over and saw the same man approach my driver, who had a bag of bread crumbs next to him. Curious (was he making stuffing that night? Why did he have those-a snack maybe?), I saw him offer them to the man, who cupped his hands together as the taxi driver piled the bread crumbs high. I saw that man beam a smile and turn to another gaunt-looking man and a boy, and share with them. Bread crumbs are probably the cheapest thing you could buy, and my taxi driver did not look near as well off (comparatively)as the other drivers we have used. His stereo did not work, he had no cell phone that I could call again. He could only afford to buy the cheapest thing, but that he happily shared with others.
It put a smile on my face.
See, I want to be like Jesus. I want to serve others, to love others, even when it's not easy and when it costs me. In my reflexive way of trying to defend myself from trying not to be taken advantage of, I missed out on an opportunity. My eyes were opened to how much the people here help each other, the caring that goes on here between people who have little to begin with. What would that look like if we did more of that in Canada? Single moms who need a babysitter for a night, children who have no money to play sports, elderly who can't clean as well as they used to. I am a student, I don't have much money, but there ARE things I can do, both here and in Canada.
So what have I learned here? I learned about breadcrumbs. A picture that I can smile about and clutch close to my heart.
~Hannah Viejou
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Our final days at Lewanika
Hello again! I can't believe that tomorrow is already our last day of clinical. Although I've been homesick on and off for the whole trip (not really missing out on the Canadian winter, but the Canadian people!!) it feels like time has gone by so fast here. Every Zambian friend that I talk to and tell that I am leaving soon asks me to please remember them when I am gone. How could I forget? These people already have a place in my heart, have touched my spirit, and ultimately have changed my life. This is what Zambia does.
I just wanted to share my experience of yesterday and today on the maternity ward at the hospital. The maternity ward is for labour and delivery, as well as the recovery area once the woman has given birth. Yesterday Shannon and I were observing a woman give birth, and it was not the experience we had hoped for. Shannon was right in there trying to help with the delivery, but stepped back as soon as things started to take a bad turn and the other nurses came rushing in. The baby had gotten stuck on its way into the world, and when it finally was delivered it was limp and not breathing. Both Shannon, myself, and a couple other nurses rushed the baby to an incubator and began CPR on its tiny chest, suctioning the nose and mouth and just trying to get this babe to cry out. Finally, and God bless, it finally did. I did not panic outwardly in the moment, but on the inside I was terrified - begging and pleading that this babe would make it into the world. Somehow it did. But here, babies aren't always that lucky. As this baby lived, the baby in the next ward died. The life cycle can be cruel sometimes... Today, on the other hand, I was able to be a part of a wonderful birth. The woman arrived already 6cm dilated, and spent a couple of hours labouring on the ward until she was ready to give birth. After walking herself to the delivery room and getting herself up on the table, it was only about 10 minutes until her daughter took her first breaths. The mother was amazing - she worked so hard and was so focused on her child. The baby girl came out healthy and crying, just how it is supposed to happen. I was going to deliver the baby myself, with assistance of course, but the baby was coming so quickly that there was not enough time for the midwife to walk me through it. However, I was able to help, and to hold the babe after birth, and later walked with the mother back to her bed where she could cuddle and feed her baby. It was wonderful to have a good experience, and realize that yes health care is not as safe and as advanced as it is in Canada or other parts of the world, but sometimes it still works and things turn out wonderfully.
We will be spening the next week in Livingstone, vacationing next to Victoria Falls and enjoying all that nature has to offer. And before you know it, some of you will be picking us up from the airport as we head back home! Thank you again to all who have been reading the blog, and I hope it has been interesting and worthwhile to you. We have many more stories to share when we are back home -- these blogs really are just the tip of the iceberg.
Loving and missing you all back home, can't wait to see you soon <3
With peace and love, Melanie
I just wanted to share my experience of yesterday and today on the maternity ward at the hospital. The maternity ward is for labour and delivery, as well as the recovery area once the woman has given birth. Yesterday Shannon and I were observing a woman give birth, and it was not the experience we had hoped for. Shannon was right in there trying to help with the delivery, but stepped back as soon as things started to take a bad turn and the other nurses came rushing in. The baby had gotten stuck on its way into the world, and when it finally was delivered it was limp and not breathing. Both Shannon, myself, and a couple other nurses rushed the baby to an incubator and began CPR on its tiny chest, suctioning the nose and mouth and just trying to get this babe to cry out. Finally, and God bless, it finally did. I did not panic outwardly in the moment, but on the inside I was terrified - begging and pleading that this babe would make it into the world. Somehow it did. But here, babies aren't always that lucky. As this baby lived, the baby in the next ward died. The life cycle can be cruel sometimes... Today, on the other hand, I was able to be a part of a wonderful birth. The woman arrived already 6cm dilated, and spent a couple of hours labouring on the ward until she was ready to give birth. After walking herself to the delivery room and getting herself up on the table, it was only about 10 minutes until her daughter took her first breaths. The mother was amazing - she worked so hard and was so focused on her child. The baby girl came out healthy and crying, just how it is supposed to happen. I was going to deliver the baby myself, with assistance of course, but the baby was coming so quickly that there was not enough time for the midwife to walk me through it. However, I was able to help, and to hold the babe after birth, and later walked with the mother back to her bed where she could cuddle and feed her baby. It was wonderful to have a good experience, and realize that yes health care is not as safe and as advanced as it is in Canada or other parts of the world, but sometimes it still works and things turn out wonderfully.
We will be spening the next week in Livingstone, vacationing next to Victoria Falls and enjoying all that nature has to offer. And before you know it, some of you will be picking us up from the airport as we head back home! Thank you again to all who have been reading the blog, and I hope it has been interesting and worthwhile to you. We have many more stories to share when we are back home -- these blogs really are just the tip of the iceberg.
Loving and missing you all back home, can't wait to see you soon <3
With peace and love, Melanie
Monday, March 7, 2011
Almost leaving but never forgetting
We are nearing the end of our work at Lewanika Hosiptal. Today is Monday, March 7th. Our last day working on the floor: Wednesday March 9th. Then on Thursday we are hosting an appreciation lunch, for the doctors and nurses we have worked with. And then thats it. We pack up, clean house, and catch the bus to Lusaka and then Livingstone... so we can do a bit of sightseeing and lounging by the pool before we head back to Canada.
This experience has been amazing. It has been wierd to feel as though you are living out every cliche life could throw our way, know in advance about the situations we would run into and then be shocked by the way we end up reacting to them. Because really no matter how prepared you think you are in advance, you really don't know how you are going to react until you find yourself ... well... reacting.
Then you discover that all your preconceived notions, don't really matter anymore. Perhaps you never thought you would cry on the floor, or almost pass out (multiple times).... but once you have, there is no point in feeling ashamed (although, at first I did). And no point in wondering if you handled the situation badly because you did what you did for a reason, and you needed to do it... Of course you can still learn from it later.
A huge part of me thought that coming to Zambia would be about hardening my spirit . . . and my stomache. To see the difficult things, the trauma, the poverty, the neglect, blood, guts, pain and torture. Then to learn that life serves these things up and thats just life... "toughen up buttercup". Time to learn to silence the emotional response, the anger, the tears, the disbelief... become dessensitized to the heart break ( and no doubt, in small ways, I have).
But I think the bigger lesson has been to do somewhat the opposite. To learn of course when you need to be strong, wear your poker face, hold down your lunch, and do what needs to be done. The larger part though, has been to recognize when the "weakness of your emotional reaction" and the compassion of the human spirit actually makes you strong. Gives you the strength to work to change your circumstances and to stand up for what you know in your heart is the right thing to do. To use the fire that builds from the pain, to push through the difficult moments and the resistance.
Then, to find a graceful, caring way to be strong from a place of love. To advocate for the things that need doing, without stepping on toes and crushing people along the way.
To model and also encourage this newfound ability in those near you. To support the voice of the nurses, doctors, students and patients, and to help them to speak when they are unable to do so.
Lastly to remember, that just because someone is not caring for you, or supporting you, does not mean that you can't care for others. Because in the end the only way to care for yourself and be fair with yourself, is to speak up. Not shut up. To learn that caring for others really is an everyday act, of caring for yourself.
And that is a lesson I can bring home with me.
Regardless of whether I ever come back to Zambia (and I hope I do), Mongu will always hold a piece of my heart. Will always have an influence on the way I see the world around me, and how I treat it.
I owe such a huge thank you to all the Canadians and especially all the Zambians who made it possible for us to be here, and for supporting us on our journey.
So, thank you! And thanks for reading along, and reminding me that my thoughts are not just my own.
Missing those back home. Love always,
Jess (L)
This experience has been amazing. It has been wierd to feel as though you are living out every cliche life could throw our way, know in advance about the situations we would run into and then be shocked by the way we end up reacting to them. Because really no matter how prepared you think you are in advance, you really don't know how you are going to react until you find yourself ... well... reacting.
Then you discover that all your preconceived notions, don't really matter anymore. Perhaps you never thought you would cry on the floor, or almost pass out (multiple times).... but once you have, there is no point in feeling ashamed (although, at first I did). And no point in wondering if you handled the situation badly because you did what you did for a reason, and you needed to do it... Of course you can still learn from it later.
A huge part of me thought that coming to Zambia would be about hardening my spirit . . . and my stomache. To see the difficult things, the trauma, the poverty, the neglect, blood, guts, pain and torture. Then to learn that life serves these things up and thats just life... "toughen up buttercup". Time to learn to silence the emotional response, the anger, the tears, the disbelief... become dessensitized to the heart break ( and no doubt, in small ways, I have).
But I think the bigger lesson has been to do somewhat the opposite. To learn of course when you need to be strong, wear your poker face, hold down your lunch, and do what needs to be done. The larger part though, has been to recognize when the "weakness of your emotional reaction" and the compassion of the human spirit actually makes you strong. Gives you the strength to work to change your circumstances and to stand up for what you know in your heart is the right thing to do. To use the fire that builds from the pain, to push through the difficult moments and the resistance.
Then, to find a graceful, caring way to be strong from a place of love. To advocate for the things that need doing, without stepping on toes and crushing people along the way.
To model and also encourage this newfound ability in those near you. To support the voice of the nurses, doctors, students and patients, and to help them to speak when they are unable to do so.
Lastly to remember, that just because someone is not caring for you, or supporting you, does not mean that you can't care for others. Because in the end the only way to care for yourself and be fair with yourself, is to speak up. Not shut up. To learn that caring for others really is an everyday act, of caring for yourself.
And that is a lesson I can bring home with me.
Regardless of whether I ever come back to Zambia (and I hope I do), Mongu will always hold a piece of my heart. Will always have an influence on the way I see the world around me, and how I treat it.
I owe such a huge thank you to all the Canadians and especially all the Zambians who made it possible for us to be here, and for supporting us on our journey.
So, thank you! And thanks for reading along, and reminding me that my thoughts are not just my own.
Missing those back home. Love always,
Jess (L)
Friday, March 4, 2011
Two Little Lines
One Line-LIFE
Two Lines-Death Sentence
A man has just walked into the rural health clinic where Shannon and I are helping out for a week. He asks to be tested for HIV, so I get my supplies ready: gloves, a ball of cotton with alcohol on it, a needle, the reagent, and the test paper. I poke his index finger and squeeze a drop of blood onto the paper, and drop one drop of reagent on top. Then we wait. 15 agonizing minutes. I watch the blood move down the strip and see the first line appear, praying that it will stop there. Then the second line appears. I show him the paper where the two lines are, and ask the health care worker to explain that we need to do another test to confirm. The two lines appear again. What do you say to ease the blow? "I am sorry" just doesn't seem to cut it. Truly, I am sorry though. Sorry for his wife and two children who will now have to come in and get tested. Sorry for the strife that this will cause in his marriage. Sorry that his two little kids may lose their daddy before they are fully grown up. Sorry that there is a nation crippled by a 15% HIV rate, a nation where people are so scared of being on drugs for the rest of their life that they don't take the treatment that is offered, or come in too late.
This past week has been filled with interesting experiences, things I may never see in Canada. There is the toddler with a huge hookworm visible underneath the skin of his foot. He had no shoes to protect his feet from the hookworm that enters there, or to keep the flies off of the infected area. We gave him deworming tablets and antibiotics-I just wish I had some socks and shoes to give as well.
I gave many ladies the contraceptive depo-provera shot in the arm. One girl came and was told to come back when she has her period to prove in a little side room that she isn't pregnant. There have been cases when women want to terminate the pregnancy and swallow a month's worth of contraceptives in one shot and have died from the bleeding. Things I wouldn't normally think about. I test people for syphilis and do antenatal checks. I can now feel where a baby's head is, and count with my fingers from the navel to see how many weeks along a woman is in her pregnancy. I put my ear to a fetoscope that is on her belly and count the baby's heart rate. All is well with the baby, but the mother looks thin and tired. She has walked 2 hours to the health clinic, and now faces a 2 hour walk back. Other women walk as much as 4 hours-and will likely give birth at home, for who can walk 4 hours at 9 months pregnant and in labor? A ray of hope however; this clinic is to receive an oxcart and 2 oxen to transport women to the clinic in times like this.
Late in the evening Lihanna(the missionary nurse we travelled with) and I are called to the clinic. A woman has given birth on her front porch, but the placenta is not coming out. In the room that I just cleaned earlier that day a lone candle is burning (there is a light switch-but no light bulb), and seven women crammed in the dark room. They part a path for Lihanna and I . Lihanna instructs a woman to put the baby to mama's breast to stimulate the oxytocin necessary to birth the placenta (not culturally normal here-many women wait up to 24 hours to bath the baby in special herbs before breastfeeding, but it's best for baby to start breastfeeding immediately) I grab the birthing instruments and hold the flashlight while Lihannah gently pulls out the placenta, praying silently all the while. A retained placenta can be a serious thing, but luckily for this mama everything turns out well.
The next day we go visit the mom at home. I give out a baby blanket and toque, and get to hold this precious little bundle in my arms. Last night the women offered Lihanna and I the chance to name the baby (the second time now this has happened to me), but we decline. The mother did the hard work, that is her privelege.
Camping in the bush has been an interesting experience. We squat over a hole to do our business, and take bucket showers. The teenaged boys that travelled with us to do evangelism and put on soccor games do all the cooking over the campfire, and it is delicious. Fire roasted corn-mmmmmm!!! In the evenings we play card games of Scum and Speed and Cheat which the boys pick up quickly and enjoy. During the night I sort out where strange noises are coming from: 2 emaciated dogs linger by our camp site and bark for what we timed as more than an hour. The rooster starts up at 5 am for another hour and I dream of making chicken pot pie. But in the morning the sun shines, the tall grass gently waves and the thatch huts beckon in the distance.
I have thoroughly enjoyed my week-I have seen a side of Africa that I am lucky to have had the opprtunity to see!
~Hannah Viejou
Two Lines-Death Sentence
A man has just walked into the rural health clinic where Shannon and I are helping out for a week. He asks to be tested for HIV, so I get my supplies ready: gloves, a ball of cotton with alcohol on it, a needle, the reagent, and the test paper. I poke his index finger and squeeze a drop of blood onto the paper, and drop one drop of reagent on top. Then we wait. 15 agonizing minutes. I watch the blood move down the strip and see the first line appear, praying that it will stop there. Then the second line appears. I show him the paper where the two lines are, and ask the health care worker to explain that we need to do another test to confirm. The two lines appear again. What do you say to ease the blow? "I am sorry" just doesn't seem to cut it. Truly, I am sorry though. Sorry for his wife and two children who will now have to come in and get tested. Sorry for the strife that this will cause in his marriage. Sorry that his two little kids may lose their daddy before they are fully grown up. Sorry that there is a nation crippled by a 15% HIV rate, a nation where people are so scared of being on drugs for the rest of their life that they don't take the treatment that is offered, or come in too late.
This past week has been filled with interesting experiences, things I may never see in Canada. There is the toddler with a huge hookworm visible underneath the skin of his foot. He had no shoes to protect his feet from the hookworm that enters there, or to keep the flies off of the infected area. We gave him deworming tablets and antibiotics-I just wish I had some socks and shoes to give as well.
I gave many ladies the contraceptive depo-provera shot in the arm. One girl came and was told to come back when she has her period to prove in a little side room that she isn't pregnant. There have been cases when women want to terminate the pregnancy and swallow a month's worth of contraceptives in one shot and have died from the bleeding. Things I wouldn't normally think about. I test people for syphilis and do antenatal checks. I can now feel where a baby's head is, and count with my fingers from the navel to see how many weeks along a woman is in her pregnancy. I put my ear to a fetoscope that is on her belly and count the baby's heart rate. All is well with the baby, but the mother looks thin and tired. She has walked 2 hours to the health clinic, and now faces a 2 hour walk back. Other women walk as much as 4 hours-and will likely give birth at home, for who can walk 4 hours at 9 months pregnant and in labor? A ray of hope however; this clinic is to receive an oxcart and 2 oxen to transport women to the clinic in times like this.
Late in the evening Lihanna(the missionary nurse we travelled with) and I are called to the clinic. A woman has given birth on her front porch, but the placenta is not coming out. In the room that I just cleaned earlier that day a lone candle is burning (there is a light switch-but no light bulb), and seven women crammed in the dark room. They part a path for Lihanna and I . Lihanna instructs a woman to put the baby to mama's breast to stimulate the oxytocin necessary to birth the placenta (not culturally normal here-many women wait up to 24 hours to bath the baby in special herbs before breastfeeding, but it's best for baby to start breastfeeding immediately) I grab the birthing instruments and hold the flashlight while Lihannah gently pulls out the placenta, praying silently all the while. A retained placenta can be a serious thing, but luckily for this mama everything turns out well.
The next day we go visit the mom at home. I give out a baby blanket and toque, and get to hold this precious little bundle in my arms. Last night the women offered Lihanna and I the chance to name the baby (the second time now this has happened to me), but we decline. The mother did the hard work, that is her privelege.
Camping in the bush has been an interesting experience. We squat over a hole to do our business, and take bucket showers. The teenaged boys that travelled with us to do evangelism and put on soccor games do all the cooking over the campfire, and it is delicious. Fire roasted corn-mmmmmm!!! In the evenings we play card games of Scum and Speed and Cheat which the boys pick up quickly and enjoy. During the night I sort out where strange noises are coming from: 2 emaciated dogs linger by our camp site and bark for what we timed as more than an hour. The rooster starts up at 5 am for another hour and I dream of making chicken pot pie. But in the morning the sun shines, the tall grass gently waves and the thatch huts beckon in the distance.
I have thoroughly enjoyed my week-I have seen a side of Africa that I am lucky to have had the opprtunity to see!
~Hannah Viejou
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
No pain, no gain...
With my nursing heart strung up in pediatric and intensive care, I have spent much of my time in Mongu in the critical care unit. It is never overly busy, having just been established a few months ago and the nurses are still understanding the criteria of an ICU patient and when to transfer someone, but nonetheless there has always been work to do. One patient in particular has completely touched my heart, and I have care for her on and off the entire time here. After my first week with her it didn't look like she was going to make it, but a miracle happened over a weekend and she pulled through. This past week she wasn't looking well again, and miraculously she made it through another weekend. She has suffered through two surgeries now, and somehow this young woman has the strength I could have never imagined, and has pulled through some of the most horrific conditions. Knowing that she may pass at any time, I have made it my mission to give her the best care I can give when I am there, and advocate for her needs - the rest is in Gods hands. Today one of the doctors was assessing her, and it was heartbreaking to watch her face scrunch up and tears fall from her eyes (this girl never cries, she always is strong... so I knew when the tears came that this was serious). I convinced the doctor and nurses to go easy on her, even after laughing and stating that "surgeons are not meant to be gentle".... The only things within my power where to give her the most dignity possible, to keep her pain as minimal as I could, and give her comfort care (I washed her, changed the bed linens, rubbed lotion into her dry flaking feet). It was so hard to see her with so many tubes everywhere, and to know her prognosis was so severe, but it was also amazing to see the strength in her. That is one thing I have definitely noticed here -- everyone is so strong, and makes such an effort to pull through the tough times. Even as I was leaving the ward for the day, I saw a small child with half his face burned off which looked so raw and painful, but he was not crying. These patients are given absolutely nothing for pain either! I asked one of the doctors today for pain meds for my ICU patient and he said, "she does not need it, dont worry". Even after the weeks we have spent here, the strength of these patients still astounds me...... just sometime I wanted to share with you all back home.
Missing you all in Canada, can't wait to see you again,
Love Melanie
Missing you all in Canada, can't wait to see you again,
Love Melanie
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Half Way
I can hardly believe that we are more than half way through our trip..!..? Seriously where has the time gone? Well actually that is a silly question considering how much we have done while we have been here, but it still feels like things are moving too fast!
Since we arrived in Mogu, I have worked on the Male Medical/surgical ward, gone on safari, worked in the Intensive Care unit, toured the little Zambezi, celebrated many a birthday, and worked on the children's ward. We have explored the green market, the black market ( don't worry mom not what your thinking. I still have both my kidneys ;) and countless other small shops along the way.
In a sense, the newness of Zambia has begun to wear off. However it comes and goes in waves. At one moment I feel comfortable and the next some unusual situation comes up and smacks me in the face. As if to say, 'Hey! Don't forget where you are now!'. In a sense it is easier and harder in the same space. The newness and beauty has worn off a bit, the excitement about being in Africa. Then the reality sinks in about the world around you and the place we are living. Its not all sparkly and amazing. Sometimes being spotted from a distance as the 'makua' from Canada is exhausting. When you've had a hard day and you just want to be annonymous for a bit... ya.. good luck with that one. Holding it together sometimes is harder. Then again you arent able to dwell on things in the same way, and sometimes that's a blessing.
Really I can't explain what it is like to be here anymore. So I think I am going to stop trying. The reality is that my mind is working so hard to explain the everyday here. The medical world, the poverty, the politics. Sometimes My theories have changed, my thoughts switched directions before they even have a chance to leave my lips, before the sentence is typed, or written. And the truth is everything comes out more dramatic, or less than it is. And talk just begins to feel cheep.
Its easier than we make it out to be, but its harder than we let ourselves believe.
However, for some reason I am compelled all the time to try to explain away the things before my eyes, and I don't think I am alone in that sentiment. No one can really find the answers, but for some reason every once in a while we get caught up in trying.
So Ill stop talking now! Stop contradicting myself over and over, and maybe share some things worth more than words, which I know you have all been waiting for...
Pictures!
Here is a photo from the boat ride on the little zambezi!
Here is one of some of the girls on the boat
and here is a photo of the safari's resident hippo cuddling with a boat;)
and the children who chased us along the river bank as our boat pulled out on the little Zambezi:
Missing everyone at home! Love always,
Jess (L)
Since we arrived in Mogu, I have worked on the Male Medical/surgical ward, gone on safari, worked in the Intensive Care unit, toured the little Zambezi, celebrated many a birthday, and worked on the children's ward. We have explored the green market, the black market ( don't worry mom not what your thinking. I still have both my kidneys ;) and countless other small shops along the way.
In a sense, the newness of Zambia has begun to wear off. However it comes and goes in waves. At one moment I feel comfortable and the next some unusual situation comes up and smacks me in the face. As if to say, 'Hey! Don't forget where you are now!'. In a sense it is easier and harder in the same space. The newness and beauty has worn off a bit, the excitement about being in Africa. Then the reality sinks in about the world around you and the place we are living. Its not all sparkly and amazing. Sometimes being spotted from a distance as the 'makua' from Canada is exhausting. When you've had a hard day and you just want to be annonymous for a bit... ya.. good luck with that one. Holding it together sometimes is harder. Then again you arent able to dwell on things in the same way, and sometimes that's a blessing.
Really I can't explain what it is like to be here anymore. So I think I am going to stop trying. The reality is that my mind is working so hard to explain the everyday here. The medical world, the poverty, the politics. Sometimes My theories have changed, my thoughts switched directions before they even have a chance to leave my lips, before the sentence is typed, or written. And the truth is everything comes out more dramatic, or less than it is. And talk just begins to feel cheep.
Its easier than we make it out to be, but its harder than we let ourselves believe.
However, for some reason I am compelled all the time to try to explain away the things before my eyes, and I don't think I am alone in that sentiment. No one can really find the answers, but for some reason every once in a while we get caught up in trying.
So Ill stop talking now! Stop contradicting myself over and over, and maybe share some things worth more than words, which I know you have all been waiting for...
Pictures!
Here is a photo from the boat ride on the little zambezi!
Here is one of some of the girls on the boat
and here is a photo of the safari's resident hippo cuddling with a boat;)
and the children who chased us along the river bank as our boat pulled out on the little Zambezi:
Missing everyone at home! Love always,
Jess (L)
Monday, February 28, 2011
For the Fathers
The other day a few of the girls and I spent the day in Limilunga, at an infant feeding clinic. Despite the many heartbreaking and tear-jerking things we have witnessed so far in our trip, nothing prepared me for what I saw that day. A dad came in with his two children, a boy, about 3 or 4, and a baby girl around 1 year. As he spoke with the nurses about getting food for his youngest, his story started to come together, causing me to force back tears as we sat in the tiny office. The man’s wife had died 2 days prior, and he no longer had the means to support his daughter. While he told us of his hardships, he never once made eye contact with us; instead he focused on his two children, especially the baby girl who sat happily on her father’s knee. The man explained that without his wife, he could not care for his daughter and that he would have to take her to an orphanage in order for him to care for himself and his son. While he told us this, he continued to look at his daughter, but his face changed from loving-father to the most heartbroken and devastated man I have ever seen. The decision to give up his daughter was, I’m sure, the hardest decision he will ever have to make. His decision made me realize that he was the strongest person I have ever met.
I wish this man could know how amazing he is, for giving up his daughter so that she can lead a better life; one where she won’t be struggling day to day for food or clean water. And that because of his decision, his daughter will have the opportunity to go to school, something that may not have happened if he had tried to support both children. I can’t imagine the pain of having to choose one child over another, and I pray that the father will one day have the means to return to the orphanage and take his daughter home to reunite their family.
I would like to close with a big thank you to all the parents (especially the dads-that’s you Chris Malloy!) for all of the sacrifices you have made for us, and for the constant support you have given us. We love you all.
All my love to everyone back home,
Alexandra Malloy
I wish this man could know how amazing he is, for giving up his daughter so that she can lead a better life; one where she won’t be struggling day to day for food or clean water. And that because of his decision, his daughter will have the opportunity to go to school, something that may not have happened if he had tried to support both children. I can’t imagine the pain of having to choose one child over another, and I pray that the father will one day have the means to return to the orphanage and take his daughter home to reunite their family.
I would like to close with a big thank you to all the parents (especially the dads-that’s you Chris Malloy!) for all of the sacrifices you have made for us, and for the constant support you have given us. We love you all.
All my love to everyone back home,
Alexandra Malloy
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Pediatric nursing
I love kids.
There is something about the simplicity of life, the joy in play, and the innocent imagination of children that wraps me up and melts my heart. The children here are gorgeous and have my heart hopelessly trapped in their little fingers. As I bike the half an hour or so ride to Lewanika hospital I pass throngs of children calling out in their sweet high pitched voices "Makua!Makua!!! How are you?" They jump up and down in just barely contained excitement and collapse into giggles when I respond "I'm fine, how are you?", to which they respond "I'm fine, how are you"; this goes back and forth about 3 times. The little toddlers peek out from behind their older siblings back with big eyes, while nearby children come running when they see that I have stopped to say hello. When
I pull out my stickers I have about 20 children clamoring for one, which they proudly display on their foreheads. Sometimes, if I have enough time I'll pick up the older ones and twirl them around. The younger kids get over their fear and cling to my legs until I have one child hanging off every limb. I am getting STRONG!
At the hospital I am in both a piece of heaven and a personal hell. Strong words, I know, but I can't describe in words how helpless you feel when you gaze on a skin-and-bones baby that is struggling for every hard breath and passes away from malnutrition, knowing that another child will, if the last 3 week trend continues, pass away tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. And still, work goes on. You have to pull yourself together because the other 30 children need you, the families need you, and if you wallow in grief nothing would ever get done.
And so, Alexandra and I COVER childrens faces in sparkley animal stickers, blow up balloons and toss them around, sit on childrens cots and teach them how to make animals out of plastercine. Babies that have never seen a white person before cry at the sight of us, but we win their hearts over with blowing bubble after bubble after bubble. We hand out colored paper and crayons to the terribly bored children with their limbs immobilized in traction. When the hord of 8 nurses/doctor/students clad in white do rounds, Alex and I sometimes stand behind them and make funny faces at the overwhelmed child. Already some of them have learned to stick their tongue at the doctor! My favourite is greeting the children by waggling my eyebrows at them, and now they do the same back to me every time I see them.
I wish I could post pictures of some of the children. There's the little girl who dances with us/ The boy with his whole face burned after falling into a pot of scalding water-who can't see because his eyes are swollen shut but who delights in stroking the teddy bear I gave him-the first toy he has ever been able to call his own. There's the 13 year old who can't walk because a disease has attacked the bones of all 4 limbs, but loves having me sit with him and learning secret handshakes. There's the baby girl with a head the size of a watermelon from encaphalits, but smiles the sweetest smile when I stop to play peek-a-boo. There is the 12 year old girl who is so hard to look at as half her face is burned off, but who I tickle and hug to let her know that she is still loveable. I don't know the words to say this in her tribal language, but I think my touch communicates this-her laugh lets me know that I am loved as well.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking how hard it is to work here, catch myself getting homesick for the supplies and nursing ratio and policies of KGH. It's hard to smell stale urine every day, knowing there are not enough clean sheets to go around, to see bugs crawling on the walls, to not have pain medication ordered or available to children in agony. But then there are nurses who step in and clean along with us, doctors who have shown me how to palpate splenomegaly without needing to use an ultrasound. People are so resourceful around here and I am embarrassed at how much I waste back at home. I am learning so much here. My heart gets bruised at times, but it is growing and able to love more than I ever have before. And at the end of the day when my shift is over, I find myself wanting to go back to the pediatric ward and hang out with the children. Sometimes I do!
~Hannah Viejou
There is something about the simplicity of life, the joy in play, and the innocent imagination of children that wraps me up and melts my heart. The children here are gorgeous and have my heart hopelessly trapped in their little fingers. As I bike the half an hour or so ride to Lewanika hospital I pass throngs of children calling out in their sweet high pitched voices "Makua!Makua!!! How are you?" They jump up and down in just barely contained excitement and collapse into giggles when I respond "I'm fine, how are you?", to which they respond "I'm fine, how are you"; this goes back and forth about 3 times. The little toddlers peek out from behind their older siblings back with big eyes, while nearby children come running when they see that I have stopped to say hello. When
I pull out my stickers I have about 20 children clamoring for one, which they proudly display on their foreheads. Sometimes, if I have enough time I'll pick up the older ones and twirl them around. The younger kids get over their fear and cling to my legs until I have one child hanging off every limb. I am getting STRONG!
At the hospital I am in both a piece of heaven and a personal hell. Strong words, I know, but I can't describe in words how helpless you feel when you gaze on a skin-and-bones baby that is struggling for every hard breath and passes away from malnutrition, knowing that another child will, if the last 3 week trend continues, pass away tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. And still, work goes on. You have to pull yourself together because the other 30 children need you, the families need you, and if you wallow in grief nothing would ever get done.
And so, Alexandra and I COVER childrens faces in sparkley animal stickers, blow up balloons and toss them around, sit on childrens cots and teach them how to make animals out of plastercine. Babies that have never seen a white person before cry at the sight of us, but we win their hearts over with blowing bubble after bubble after bubble. We hand out colored paper and crayons to the terribly bored children with their limbs immobilized in traction. When the hord of 8 nurses/doctor/students clad in white do rounds, Alex and I sometimes stand behind them and make funny faces at the overwhelmed child. Already some of them have learned to stick their tongue at the doctor! My favourite is greeting the children by waggling my eyebrows at them, and now they do the same back to me every time I see them.
I wish I could post pictures of some of the children. There's the little girl who dances with us/ The boy with his whole face burned after falling into a pot of scalding water-who can't see because his eyes are swollen shut but who delights in stroking the teddy bear I gave him-the first toy he has ever been able to call his own. There's the 13 year old who can't walk because a disease has attacked the bones of all 4 limbs, but loves having me sit with him and learning secret handshakes. There's the baby girl with a head the size of a watermelon from encaphalits, but smiles the sweetest smile when I stop to play peek-a-boo. There is the 12 year old girl who is so hard to look at as half her face is burned off, but who I tickle and hug to let her know that she is still loveable. I don't know the words to say this in her tribal language, but I think my touch communicates this-her laugh lets me know that I am loved as well.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking how hard it is to work here, catch myself getting homesick for the supplies and nursing ratio and policies of KGH. It's hard to smell stale urine every day, knowing there are not enough clean sheets to go around, to see bugs crawling on the walls, to not have pain medication ordered or available to children in agony. But then there are nurses who step in and clean along with us, doctors who have shown me how to palpate splenomegaly without needing to use an ultrasound. People are so resourceful around here and I am embarrassed at how much I waste back at home. I am learning so much here. My heart gets bruised at times, but it is growing and able to love more than I ever have before. And at the end of the day when my shift is over, I find myself wanting to go back to the pediatric ward and hang out with the children. Sometimes I do!
~Hannah Viejou
Birthday in Zambia
Last Monday was an extremely special day as I celebrated my 22nd birthday with an amazing bunch of girls. After saying to the girls that I just wanted to have a low key night after such an adventurous safari, they all still surprised me anyways. Lynnelle, our master chef, somehow concocted a teriyaki stirfry…my fav… with our limited resources as the market is not stocked until Tuesday or Wednesday. It was a challenge I say with the power going out in the beginning every few minutes. We had a few scares but it always came back on. Our back up plan was to use the propane stove which we set by the open door while keeping the propane tank outside. As she cooked in the kitchen I got to be in charge of the IPod and played all my favourite songs. We danced and singed and just had a great time. All the while I was in the kitchen some of the other girls decorated the dining area. With a lovely construction paper place mat and crown I was set at the head of the table. On the light fixtures they hung balloons and when they ran out they blew up medical gloves. It was definitely a nurse’s bday.
I guess my biggest surprise came when Jessana came in saying “who is your best friend?” with a bag of flour in her arms. She was met with puzzled stares from everyone in the kitchen. Apparently the girls wanted to surprise me with FLOWERS but with shotty cell service and the message being passed between four people I ended up with some lovely white flour with flowers drawn on with a sharpie. It was quite priceless.
Fay, Mary and Jessica all joined us for dinner as we devoured Lynnelle’s cooking. And for dessert the girls also managed to get the icecream home before melting which was quite a miracle. All in all it was a fabulous evening as we ended off the evening watching another episode of glee.
Thanks everyone!
Gabby
I guess my biggest surprise came when Jessana came in saying “who is your best friend?” with a bag of flour in her arms. She was met with puzzled stares from everyone in the kitchen. Apparently the girls wanted to surprise me with FLOWERS but with shotty cell service and the message being passed between four people I ended up with some lovely white flour with flowers drawn on with a sharpie. It was quite priceless.
Fay, Mary and Jessica all joined us for dinner as we devoured Lynnelle’s cooking. And for dessert the girls also managed to get the icecream home before melting which was quite a miracle. All in all it was a fabulous evening as we ended off the evening watching another episode of glee.
Thanks everyone!
Gabby
The other side of the river:
"We've reached the Zambezi," my friend Tibour tells me over the loud hum of the boat engine behind us. I emerge from under my pile of protective clothing that I have draped over me to keep me from burning in the intense sun to take in the view. Miranda and I are on our way to Kalabo on the other side of the Zambezi to help Lihanna, a nurse from South Africa living in Mongu, start up a feeding program there for malnourished children. I wish I could post a picture to give an idea of what the flood plains look like, but even then it wouldn't do it justice. In every direction that I look all I can see is water, grass and sky. On the two hour boat ride that it took to get to Kalabo, only five minutes was spent on the Zambezi River. The rest of the time the boat navigated through the tall grass on watery roads that had been cut by the boats. It was beautiful.
Our time in Kalabo was short but we managed to do a lot. Our two full days that we spent there consisted of visiting the hospital, helping in an under five clinic, training volunteers to run the feeding program, launching the program and admitting the first 8 children and then visiting them in their homes. It was my first time actually going into a village and visiting people in their homes. Some families had cement houses, others had grass or mud houses. All the families that I visited took such good care of their homes and what little they had. Their house was clean, and yet their shelves were empty. One family that we visited had no source of income and so they ate only when they could find food. The baby that was on the feeding program was almost two years old and still unable to walk. His twin sister on the other hand was walking about the whole time we were at their house. It was heartbreaking to see, and yet we spent an hour laughing and talking under a tree outside their house. It always amazes me that I have found so much joy in the most bleak situations. I left that house feeling helpless, knowing that there was nothing that I could do to save them from their circumstance. We had given them a bag of powdered cow milk to feed the baby that was malnourished. At least we did something. I have learned to think more like the people here: do what you can with what you have, and pray for the rest. With the feeding program we trained the women that we had in the amount of time that we had, we took on the number of children that our supplies could feed, and we prayed that it would continue successfully.
-heather.
Our time in Kalabo was short but we managed to do a lot. Our two full days that we spent there consisted of visiting the hospital, helping in an under five clinic, training volunteers to run the feeding program, launching the program and admitting the first 8 children and then visiting them in their homes. It was my first time actually going into a village and visiting people in their homes. Some families had cement houses, others had grass or mud houses. All the families that I visited took such good care of their homes and what little they had. Their house was clean, and yet their shelves were empty. One family that we visited had no source of income and so they ate only when they could find food. The baby that was on the feeding program was almost two years old and still unable to walk. His twin sister on the other hand was walking about the whole time we were at their house. It was heartbreaking to see, and yet we spent an hour laughing and talking under a tree outside their house. It always amazes me that I have found so much joy in the most bleak situations. I left that house feeling helpless, knowing that there was nothing that I could do to save them from their circumstance. We had given them a bag of powdered cow milk to feed the baby that was malnourished. At least we did something. I have learned to think more like the people here: do what you can with what you have, and pray for the rest. With the feeding program we trained the women that we had in the amount of time that we had, we took on the number of children that our supplies could feed, and we prayed that it would continue successfully.
-heather.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
To Communicate Without Language
I've had some amazing experiences over the last couple of weeks and have worked with some fabulous professionals who do incredible things with the few resources they have. I'm learning a ton and while it's difficult at times, I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything in the world.
Last week I was out at Mutoya Camp. While there I got to help teach in the school: hand washing, teeth brushing and a little bit of music. The children are adorable and were definitely a highlight of my week. I got to help with a feeding clinic for malnourished infants and todlers which meant that I got to teach the moms about why babies cry and play peek-a-boo/make faces with the little ones. I also had the opportunity to do home visits. It was great to see everyday life and what it looks like here, I was also a little spoiled.
While at the camp I worked with individuals who could translate from Lozi to English for me so I was able to ask health questions, to teach and to connect. This week has been a lot more difficult. This week I'm in the ART (Anti-Retroviral Therapy) clinic, an area of the hospital that is packed starting at 08h00 every weekday. Everyone starts with their vitals being taken before continuing on for assessments, blood work, consults and medications for the coming days. I started off doing vitals. I've been taking vitals since first year, so the skill itself wasn't difficult, but it was difficult not understanding what my patients were telling me when I said "good morning" and they went into a big monologue. It was difficult wanting to connect with people and not really knowing how. It was difficult to be missing the stories and the art of nursing which I love, and having to find new and different ways to connect. Not only am I learning a lot about a disease I've rarely seen before now, but I'm learning to transcend an incredibly large language barrier. Recent cab rides and waiting for friends have turned into meeting new friends and having Lozi lessons. Eventually I hope to be able to say more than "Netewmezi" and "Mosile shwani."
Jess W
Last week I was out at Mutoya Camp. While there I got to help teach in the school: hand washing, teeth brushing and a little bit of music. The children are adorable and were definitely a highlight of my week. I got to help with a feeding clinic for malnourished infants and todlers which meant that I got to teach the moms about why babies cry and play peek-a-boo/make faces with the little ones. I also had the opportunity to do home visits. It was great to see everyday life and what it looks like here, I was also a little spoiled.
While at the camp I worked with individuals who could translate from Lozi to English for me so I was able to ask health questions, to teach and to connect. This week has been a lot more difficult. This week I'm in the ART (Anti-Retroviral Therapy) clinic, an area of the hospital that is packed starting at 08h00 every weekday. Everyone starts with their vitals being taken before continuing on for assessments, blood work, consults and medications for the coming days. I started off doing vitals. I've been taking vitals since first year, so the skill itself wasn't difficult, but it was difficult not understanding what my patients were telling me when I said "good morning" and they went into a big monologue. It was difficult wanting to connect with people and not really knowing how. It was difficult to be missing the stories and the art of nursing which I love, and having to find new and different ways to connect. Not only am I learning a lot about a disease I've rarely seen before now, but I'm learning to transcend an incredibly large language barrier. Recent cab rides and waiting for friends have turned into meeting new friends and having Lozi lessons. Eventually I hope to be able to say more than "Netewmezi" and "Mosile shwani."
Jess W
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Safari Weekend
This past weekend we got to go to a Safari resort in Kafue National park...which is about the size of Switzerland! The lodge we stayed at is not well known by tourists, so we almost had the whole place to ourselves. Unfortunately we had to take a 6 hour ride in a mini bus to get there (we were so squished in there, our shoulders were overlapping). Well worth the trip though! The resort was on the edge of the Kafue river and we went on a sunset boat ride as soon as we arrived there. We didn't get to see any alligators, but the sunset was phenomenal and there was a full moon that night too! All the outings included snacks and drinks, and the all-inclusive food served for breakfast/lunch/dinner was by far the best food I have tasted since I've been in Canada. We seriously stuffed our faces...there is really no fear of us losing weight on this trip lol.
Our accomidations were in separate huts near the lodge, but we had to be escorted to our rooms by guides after dark because wild animals often hangout nearby. The first night there I heard elephants trampling nearby in the middle of the night and heard growling (lion?) early in the morning. Oh and we met the hippo named Basil who hangs out in the lodge once in a while...somehow he believes it is part of his natural habitat? :)
I went on two drives the next day. The first was at 5:30 - 8:30am and we saw elephants, jackels, puku, antelope, multiple birds, buffalo, baboons, and wild dogs - which are super rare (only 3000 in the world, and only 300 in Zambia...and we saw a pack of 12!). One of the trails had Tsete flies (often spread Sleeping Sickness) swarming around us...to the point where I had to cover up so that only my face and hands were exposed because they bite hard! Lots of us got bit, but no one got sick!
On the second drive from 4:30 - 8:00pm we saw some of the same animals, but we also saw lots of zebra and even a cheetah - so exciting! In between the game drives I spent my time tanning by the pool...So it made for a very relaxing weekend!
~ Michelle
Our accomidations were in separate huts near the lodge, but we had to be escorted to our rooms by guides after dark because wild animals often hangout nearby. The first night there I heard elephants trampling nearby in the middle of the night and heard growling (lion?) early in the morning. Oh and we met the hippo named Basil who hangs out in the lodge once in a while...somehow he believes it is part of his natural habitat? :)
I went on two drives the next day. The first was at 5:30 - 8:30am and we saw elephants, jackels, puku, antelope, multiple birds, buffalo, baboons, and wild dogs - which are super rare (only 3000 in the world, and only 300 in Zambia...and we saw a pack of 12!). One of the trails had Tsete flies (often spread Sleeping Sickness) swarming around us...to the point where I had to cover up so that only my face and hands were exposed because they bite hard! Lots of us got bit, but no one got sick!
On the second drive from 4:30 - 8:00pm we saw some of the same animals, but we also saw lots of zebra and even a cheetah - so exciting! In between the game drives I spent my time tanning by the pool...So it made for a very relaxing weekend!
~ Michelle
Thursday, February 17, 2011
"Nothing could be worse than to fear that one had given up too soon..."
02/17/2011
"Nothing could be worse than to fear that one had given up too soon and left one unexpended effort which might have saved the world" - Jane Addams......
Food for thought I guess. Today was the last day of our first week working in Lewanika hospital, tomorrow we all go on safari in kofu national park (sp?)! It is a much needed vacation, after only one short week on the wards. It has been a struggle. An amazing learning experience, and a total warp on our thinking.
So much about the world is difficult and unknown. Never is that more apparent then on a ward you are unfamiliar with. Especially when it also contains a culture and language that is alien to you. It is strange to navigate our new terrain, I feel more expert and more novice at the same time. Like I have nothing and everything to give, and somehow I am confidently unsure of how to go about doing anything.
This is discouraging and difficult. When I feel that way, it makes me want to leave and never go back. Forget that a place I don't understand even exists. But we can't abandon that which we don't understand, for in the end it has so much more to offer us than the everyday routine we are used to. A few days ago I struggled with this, and with all of the uncertainty.
Hard things have taken place while we have been here. Things that make it very difficult for us to fill our role as nurses, in the way we have at home. Very hard to advocate for what we beleive is right, although perhaps sometimes we aren't always right either.. The worst though, is knowing that something more could have been done and wasn't. Or harder, that we could have done more but some how didn't or weren't able to. The trying gets exhausting, and the giving up, actually more exhausting...
Yet it is the struggle that builds strength ... and sometimes also apathy, or resentment. The later I try hard to escape.. and hopefully somehow grow some strength. (Proof of this would be great, any day now... )
And yet today I had a really good day on the ward. A great last day on my surgical rotation here. I had fun with the students, learned along with them, and accomplished more than I feel we had in the days before. And that was very cool. So despite all the difficulties. All the things we failed at. I am taking this one positive for me! And we have to remember to still have fun despite the struggle.
The girls all curl up in the evening and giggle through episodes of glee, blare music while doing the dishes, or have headlamp dance parties in our rooms (Kelso and Leah! ;) So we are all learning, and having fun. Although some duet or solo in glee might bring tears a little easier than it used to, thats ok. We are all ok, underneath it all.
Africa is hard, not in every way but in many, and in a strange sense it is softer because of this.
Thank you for all the support back home <3 Missing you all dearly.
~ Jess
P.S Safari tommorrow! Yeeeaahh! Might be out of touch for a few days as we are in the park till Sunday <3
"Nothing could be worse than to fear that one had given up too soon and left one unexpended effort which might have saved the world" - Jane Addams......
Food for thought I guess. Today was the last day of our first week working in Lewanika hospital, tomorrow we all go on safari in kofu national park (sp?)! It is a much needed vacation, after only one short week on the wards. It has been a struggle. An amazing learning experience, and a total warp on our thinking.
So much about the world is difficult and unknown. Never is that more apparent then on a ward you are unfamiliar with. Especially when it also contains a culture and language that is alien to you. It is strange to navigate our new terrain, I feel more expert and more novice at the same time. Like I have nothing and everything to give, and somehow I am confidently unsure of how to go about doing anything.
This is discouraging and difficult. When I feel that way, it makes me want to leave and never go back. Forget that a place I don't understand even exists. But we can't abandon that which we don't understand, for in the end it has so much more to offer us than the everyday routine we are used to. A few days ago I struggled with this, and with all of the uncertainty.
Hard things have taken place while we have been here. Things that make it very difficult for us to fill our role as nurses, in the way we have at home. Very hard to advocate for what we beleive is right, although perhaps sometimes we aren't always right either.. The worst though, is knowing that something more could have been done and wasn't. Or harder, that we could have done more but some how didn't or weren't able to. The trying gets exhausting, and the giving up, actually more exhausting...
Yet it is the struggle that builds strength ... and sometimes also apathy, or resentment. The later I try hard to escape.. and hopefully somehow grow some strength. (Proof of this would be great, any day now... )
And yet today I had a really good day on the ward. A great last day on my surgical rotation here. I had fun with the students, learned along with them, and accomplished more than I feel we had in the days before. And that was very cool. So despite all the difficulties. All the things we failed at. I am taking this one positive for me! And we have to remember to still have fun despite the struggle.
The girls all curl up in the evening and giggle through episodes of glee, blare music while doing the dishes, or have headlamp dance parties in our rooms (Kelso and Leah! ;) So we are all learning, and having fun. Although some duet or solo in glee might bring tears a little easier than it used to, thats ok. We are all ok, underneath it all.
Africa is hard, not in every way but in many, and in a strange sense it is softer because of this.
Thank you for all the support back home <3 Missing you all dearly.
~ Jess
P.S Safari tommorrow! Yeeeaahh! Might be out of touch for a few days as we are in the park till Sunday <3
Zambian Baptism
Have you ever been in an African rain storm?
We have had them almost every afternoon since we arrived in Mongu. Usually there is so much lightening we are worried about our power going out, but last Sunday night we embraced it.
As soon as we saw the penny sized raindrops falling down we ran outside! A good 15 minutes was spent in child-like play- cooling down and soaking up the rain. Within minutes our hair was soaking and puddles had formed...oh what fun it was!
We went back inside and proceeded to make a mess of the floors- but we didn't care. Floors can be cleaned. Hair can be dried. Clothes can be rung. We didn't care because our souls were rejuvenated!
Needless to say- no one felt the need to take showers this morning :)
Love Jessana
We have had them almost every afternoon since we arrived in Mongu. Usually there is so much lightening we are worried about our power going out, but last Sunday night we embraced it.
As soon as we saw the penny sized raindrops falling down we ran outside! A good 15 minutes was spent in child-like play- cooling down and soaking up the rain. Within minutes our hair was soaking and puddles had formed...oh what fun it was!
We went back inside and proceeded to make a mess of the floors- but we didn't care. Floors can be cleaned. Hair can be dried. Clothes can be rung. We didn't care because our souls were rejuvenated!
Needless to say- no one felt the need to take showers this morning :)
Love Jessana
Monday, February 14, 2011
Zambian Birthday!
Happy birthday to me!
It was my birthday last Wednesday (February 9th). And let me just say that it was one I will remember for a long time. I woke up to birthday cards from friends and family back home, much love to Jessana for lugging them over here for me! It was hard to read the warm wishes from loved ones so far away, and made me miss home a lot. But we kept busy at the hospital, and the girls over here made the day as special as could be for my 22nd.
It is tradition here in Zambia to call the person celebrating their birthday “the baby,” as their birthday celebrates their rebirth. Of course the girls loved this, and referred to me as the baby all day (along with taxi drivers, nurses, and anyone else who got wind of the occasion). It is also a tradition to bath the baby…in cold water…luckily, the girls couldn’t find a bucket to dump on me, I don’t think I would have appreciated the surprise cold shower. I also think the less-then-lukewarm showers at the Cheshire Home were sufficient in keeping with tradition!
Fay, Jess, and Mary were kind enough to get me flowers and a bracelet, and Lynnelle got me a massive bouquet. The girls and I went out for a birthday dinner, and they surprised me with a cake when we got home. My birthday reminded me of how amazing my friends and family are at home, for sending cards even though I’m an ocean away. I also realized just how lucky I am to be travelling with such an amazing group of women, who go out of their way to make my birthday special.
To all my friends and family back home, as well as “The Team,” I love you, you all made my day.
Lots of hugs and smooches to everyone back home, we miss you guys like crazy
The Baby
(Alexandra Malloy)
xo
It was my birthday last Wednesday (February 9th). And let me just say that it was one I will remember for a long time. I woke up to birthday cards from friends and family back home, much love to Jessana for lugging them over here for me! It was hard to read the warm wishes from loved ones so far away, and made me miss home a lot. But we kept busy at the hospital, and the girls over here made the day as special as could be for my 22nd.
It is tradition here in Zambia to call the person celebrating their birthday “the baby,” as their birthday celebrates their rebirth. Of course the girls loved this, and referred to me as the baby all day (along with taxi drivers, nurses, and anyone else who got wind of the occasion). It is also a tradition to bath the baby…in cold water…luckily, the girls couldn’t find a bucket to dump on me, I don’t think I would have appreciated the surprise cold shower. I also think the less-then-lukewarm showers at the Cheshire Home were sufficient in keeping with tradition!
Fay, Jess, and Mary were kind enough to get me flowers and a bracelet, and Lynnelle got me a massive bouquet. The girls and I went out for a birthday dinner, and they surprised me with a cake when we got home. My birthday reminded me of how amazing my friends and family are at home, for sending cards even though I’m an ocean away. I also realized just how lucky I am to be travelling with such an amazing group of women, who go out of their way to make my birthday special.
To all my friends and family back home, as well as “The Team,” I love you, you all made my day.
Lots of hugs and smooches to everyone back home, we miss you guys like crazy
The Baby
(Alexandra Malloy)
xo
Valentine's Day at Lewanika Hospital, Mongu
Today was our first clinical day at the Lewanika Hospital. We have our tentitive schedules for the upcomnig 4 weeks, and we rotate around quite a bit. This week I will be spending time in the intensive care unit. The patient I cared with today had a previous poisoning, and had to have surgery to fix her stomach from the damage. Currently the patient is receiving food through a tube directly into her intestine, as her stomach is left to heal. There was no prognosis communicated, so I plan to follow this patient and see what the doctor's plans are for the week. While re-starting an IV on the patient, I began to gain insight on how limited supplies really are here. The needles used to insert an IV are different than the ones in Canada - which retract the needle quite nicely to prevent the nurse from being poked - and of course no fancy dressings to keep the IV site clean. Instead the IV is just taped in place, and we hope that it won't get infected... Something I noticed today that really gave me a good feeling about my practice was the look of my patient after we washed and re-made the bed with clean blankets. We sat the patient up to assist with breathing and make feedings easier, and she/he looked unbelievably better when we were finished. I can't wait to follow the patient this week and see what happens, and also continue to open my eyes to the Zambian culture. I met a nurse from the US today who has been working here for 5 months, and she gave me some medical Lozi words (the local language) to help me communicate better with my patients - we will share the notebook around the house this week and hopefully will have a better grasp on Lozi soon! It's not as simple as the Zambians say.
At the end of the day a few of us also had a quick discussion about pain control. Pain medication is very limited here... my patient only had two days with pain medication post-operatively, and it is clear it is still very painful to move (there is a long abdominal incision healing still, the patient had surgery 5 days ago). Especially with having my own recent surgery this past summer, I had a hard time not having anything to give my patient as she/he grimaced in pain with even the slightest change of position. Life, and hospital work, just is not the same here as in Canada.
I love you and miss you all back home in Canada, and look forward to seeing you in 5 weeks. Until then, I will continue on with my practice and Lozi lessons! <3 Happy Valentines day to you all,
With love, Melanie
At the end of the day a few of us also had a quick discussion about pain control. Pain medication is very limited here... my patient only had two days with pain medication post-operatively, and it is clear it is still very painful to move (there is a long abdominal incision healing still, the patient had surgery 5 days ago). Especially with having my own recent surgery this past summer, I had a hard time not having anything to give my patient as she/he grimaced in pain with even the slightest change of position. Life, and hospital work, just is not the same here as in Canada.
I love you and miss you all back home in Canada, and look forward to seeing you in 5 weeks. Until then, I will continue on with my practice and Lozi lessons! <3 Happy Valentines day to you all,
With love, Melanie
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The road to Mongu!!
It is february 12th today and Leah, Kelsey, Shannon and I are sitting in an internet cafe in Mongu scrambling to get in touch with family and freinds before out taxi driver picks us up ( at a different internet cafe) in thirty minutes! This post might be kinda short as a result...
We arrived in Mongu (Western Province) on the eveing of February 10th... so that was... Thursday! We all pilled our luggage into the bus at chesshire home in kubalangua (through the back window since the back of the bus didn't open). Once the two back rows of seats were piled to the ceiling with bags, all 17 women, 1 driver, and 1 co- pilot were crammed into our bus we began our journey to Mongu! The girls were crammed in there, 5 people to a row of seats. In the very back where I was sitting, some of us perched on the back rest and the bags behind us. The windows were wide open, traffic pollution streaming into the cabin along with the "fresh air", however teh temperature was ok and we were all in high spirits.
A few hours later we had left the city behind us and entered kofu national park!! The entire area is a wild life reserve and I for one was determined to see a lion or an elephant... or a bird maybe? I stared out the window intently for 2 hours. Wind blowing in my hair, sun burning my face slightly and the heat radiating from the pavement. One of the girls announced she saw a deer, but I still hadn't seen anything :( well, excep for a volture!
Then suddenly spring bock or heart beasts or antelope ( I think they were one of those) began popping up all over the place! I was pretty excited and peered into the underbrush more intensly... and occassionally looking up into the trees... perhaps we would see a leopard?
Soon after we stopped for lunch so Shannon, Hannah, and I went to explore. Jess Barker warned us all to be careful, the last time they had stopped at this particular spot, there had been a pride of lions lying in the grass. Soon the girls and I spotted a baboon ni the tall grass!!! I actually managed to take a very grainy picture of it! :)
We finished all of our snacks and climbed back on the bus. On the road again, for who knows how many hours! Then suddenly the drivers said something at the front of the bus and everyone was scrambling to look ahead of the bus, then it was announced that there was an elephant on the road!!!
I stared straight ahead and could make out a dark shadow on the road ahead of us. \but it was huge! Shurely that was a truck and the drivers were confused? My mind raced to make sense of the scene in front of me, as we got closer my eyes adjusted and I made out the shape of two large elephants crossing the road!!! the bus slowed and we watched for a moment as these massive creatures wandered into the brush. Then suddenly another huge buck began crossing the road behind us, seperated from it's heard. It flapped it's ears slightly, in a sign of agitation and a few moments later our buss pulled away.
I was flabbergasted! Minutes later I had to check my camera again to see if it was true. had three elephants really just walked across the road in front of us!? The whole experience was kinda surreal and I am so excited to go on safari now!!
Anyways after an 11 hour bus ride we finally pulled into Mongu in the dark!
Runnning out of time, so I will leave it upto another one of the girls to continue the story from there. Needless to say it includes, frogs, cockroaches, and snake gaurds!
We are off to the wedding tonight. Hope you enjoyed the blog!! Thanks for reading
~ Jess (L)
We arrived in Mongu (Western Province) on the eveing of February 10th... so that was... Thursday! We all pilled our luggage into the bus at chesshire home in kubalangua (through the back window since the back of the bus didn't open). Once the two back rows of seats were piled to the ceiling with bags, all 17 women, 1 driver, and 1 co- pilot were crammed into our bus we began our journey to Mongu! The girls were crammed in there, 5 people to a row of seats. In the very back where I was sitting, some of us perched on the back rest and the bags behind us. The windows were wide open, traffic pollution streaming into the cabin along with the "fresh air", however teh temperature was ok and we were all in high spirits.
A few hours later we had left the city behind us and entered kofu national park!! The entire area is a wild life reserve and I for one was determined to see a lion or an elephant... or a bird maybe? I stared out the window intently for 2 hours. Wind blowing in my hair, sun burning my face slightly and the heat radiating from the pavement. One of the girls announced she saw a deer, but I still hadn't seen anything :( well, excep for a volture!
Then suddenly spring bock or heart beasts or antelope ( I think they were one of those) began popping up all over the place! I was pretty excited and peered into the underbrush more intensly... and occassionally looking up into the trees... perhaps we would see a leopard?
Soon after we stopped for lunch so Shannon, Hannah, and I went to explore. Jess Barker warned us all to be careful, the last time they had stopped at this particular spot, there had been a pride of lions lying in the grass. Soon the girls and I spotted a baboon ni the tall grass!!! I actually managed to take a very grainy picture of it! :)
We finished all of our snacks and climbed back on the bus. On the road again, for who knows how many hours! Then suddenly the drivers said something at the front of the bus and everyone was scrambling to look ahead of the bus, then it was announced that there was an elephant on the road!!!
I stared straight ahead and could make out a dark shadow on the road ahead of us. \but it was huge! Shurely that was a truck and the drivers were confused? My mind raced to make sense of the scene in front of me, as we got closer my eyes adjusted and I made out the shape of two large elephants crossing the road!!! the bus slowed and we watched for a moment as these massive creatures wandered into the brush. Then suddenly another huge buck began crossing the road behind us, seperated from it's heard. It flapped it's ears slightly, in a sign of agitation and a few moments later our buss pulled away.
I was flabbergasted! Minutes later I had to check my camera again to see if it was true. had three elephants really just walked across the road in front of us!? The whole experience was kinda surreal and I am so excited to go on safari now!!
Anyways after an 11 hour bus ride we finally pulled into Mongu in the dark!
Runnning out of time, so I will leave it upto another one of the girls to continue the story from there. Needless to say it includes, frogs, cockroaches, and snake gaurds!
We are off to the wedding tonight. Hope you enjoyed the blog!! Thanks for reading
~ Jess (L)
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Okay, okay...so I MAY have been putting off posting on this blog...I've never been much of a "blogger"...I feel so exposed, ha ha! All right, well here goes nothing...
As our plane began its decent into Lusaka it all finally began to feel real. Up until that point it seemed like a distant dream, not tangible by any means. Stepping off the plane your senses are immediately bombarded by this foreign climate; the air is thick with humidity, green foliage and palm trees flourish in every direction. It is a stark contrast from the grey, concrete jungle we have just spent a couple days exploring in London.
The first couple days here are relatively sedated. We settled ourselves in at the Cheshire home for disabled children in Lusaka. The nuns have been kind enough to rent out a room for us for only 75, 000 Kwacha a night ($15 CAN). There are kids running around everywhere! They are all so adorable; however, only a couple of them speak English and so there are a lot of hand gestures used! Getting around town has been an adventure, seeing as the cabs we take are just people’s cars which all seem to make rather ominous rattling noises that may or may not indicate engine failure... On that note, my cab was in a fender bender this morning (don’t panic Mom and Dad, I’m fine!). Let’s just say they don’t really partake in the whole exchange of information thing here. Instead, they scream at each other and someone drives away rather quickly.
Speaking of car accidents, Leah and I were at the Sunday market and a mini-bus was side-swiped by another car (which drove away of course). You wouldn’t believe the reaction the pedestrians had! About 30 people ran across the highway to see if they were okay, and the whole market by the road came to a standstill! In Canada I’m certain everyone would continue on about their day, assuming it was someone else’s responsibility. That is the beauty of this country though; there is a sense of connection between the people and when engaging with Zambians there is an undeniable sense of genuine interest in the interaction at hand. It’s so refreshing, seeing that in Canada we have the “stranger danger!” attitude, and, thus, you may be perceived as annoying to most people if you attempt to strike up a conversation with a stranger on the bus, etc.
On Saturday we were invited to the Zambike farm. It’s run by a group of young American men who employ a bunch of local Zambians to help build bikes and ambulance trailers that will later be sold/ donated to various NGO’s/ charities, etc. They have even perfected the art of the bamboo bike frame! Very cool looking! These bikes vastly improve the lives of their recipient, as they offer a low cost means of transportation, and the ambulance trailers allow for a speedy transport to the hospital in an emergency.
I had a super awesome time there! We played some beach volley ball, had a delicious braii (African for bbq), learned some African dance moves, played with some adorable little kiddies, and watched an amazing sunset from the roof-top deck. Life is good.
Our first day at the University Teaching Hospital (UTH) was a blur! I’ll paint a picture for you...Imagine a hospital built in the 1960’s, and has only had fresh coats of paint as a means of renovation. We were lucky enough to get the grand tour of the whole place, and let me tell you it is an absolute labyrinth! The Nurses here all wear the traditional starched white dresses and caps, or pressed shirt and pants for the Murses (male nurses- which is apparently more common here). Very professional looking...needless to say I felt a little out of place in my wrinkly blue scrubs!
Shannon and I had the opportunity to spend our three clinical days at the Cancer Center. It is the only one in the country, and is therefore quite busy! We spent a day on the chemotherapy ward, a day in consultation clinics, and finally a day observing the various diagnostic imaging machines (CT, MRI) and also Brachy therapy ( used to deliver localized radiation to the cancerous region...mainly oesophageal and cervical seen here). On that note, there is a ridiculous percentage of patients with advanced cervical cancer here, being that they simply do not have the same screening methods we have back home (get your pap’s ladies!!!). The staff was all so friendly and made such an amazing effort to include us and teach us all they could! It was a great experience, and I cannot believe how much oncology knowledge was packed into three days.
Tomorrow we leave for Mongu! We are all very excited about this as we will be driving through a game park on the 8 hour drive there. Crossing my fingers to see some wildlife (c'monnnn Lyger!!! hahaha). All right folks, I’ve got to skedaddle for now...
Much love from Africa...
Kelso
As our plane began its decent into Lusaka it all finally began to feel real. Up until that point it seemed like a distant dream, not tangible by any means. Stepping off the plane your senses are immediately bombarded by this foreign climate; the air is thick with humidity, green foliage and palm trees flourish in every direction. It is a stark contrast from the grey, concrete jungle we have just spent a couple days exploring in London.
The first couple days here are relatively sedated. We settled ourselves in at the Cheshire home for disabled children in Lusaka. The nuns have been kind enough to rent out a room for us for only 75, 000 Kwacha a night ($15 CAN). There are kids running around everywhere! They are all so adorable; however, only a couple of them speak English and so there are a lot of hand gestures used! Getting around town has been an adventure, seeing as the cabs we take are just people’s cars which all seem to make rather ominous rattling noises that may or may not indicate engine failure... On that note, my cab was in a fender bender this morning (don’t panic Mom and Dad, I’m fine!). Let’s just say they don’t really partake in the whole exchange of information thing here. Instead, they scream at each other and someone drives away rather quickly.
Speaking of car accidents, Leah and I were at the Sunday market and a mini-bus was side-swiped by another car (which drove away of course). You wouldn’t believe the reaction the pedestrians had! About 30 people ran across the highway to see if they were okay, and the whole market by the road came to a standstill! In Canada I’m certain everyone would continue on about their day, assuming it was someone else’s responsibility. That is the beauty of this country though; there is a sense of connection between the people and when engaging with Zambians there is an undeniable sense of genuine interest in the interaction at hand. It’s so refreshing, seeing that in Canada we have the “stranger danger!” attitude, and, thus, you may be perceived as annoying to most people if you attempt to strike up a conversation with a stranger on the bus, etc.
On Saturday we were invited to the Zambike farm. It’s run by a group of young American men who employ a bunch of local Zambians to help build bikes and ambulance trailers that will later be sold/ donated to various NGO’s/ charities, etc. They have even perfected the art of the bamboo bike frame! Very cool looking! These bikes vastly improve the lives of their recipient, as they offer a low cost means of transportation, and the ambulance trailers allow for a speedy transport to the hospital in an emergency.
I had a super awesome time there! We played some beach volley ball, had a delicious braii (African for bbq), learned some African dance moves, played with some adorable little kiddies, and watched an amazing sunset from the roof-top deck. Life is good.
Our first day at the University Teaching Hospital (UTH) was a blur! I’ll paint a picture for you...Imagine a hospital built in the 1960’s, and has only had fresh coats of paint as a means of renovation. We were lucky enough to get the grand tour of the whole place, and let me tell you it is an absolute labyrinth! The Nurses here all wear the traditional starched white dresses and caps, or pressed shirt and pants for the Murses (male nurses- which is apparently more common here). Very professional looking...needless to say I felt a little out of place in my wrinkly blue scrubs!
Shannon and I had the opportunity to spend our three clinical days at the Cancer Center. It is the only one in the country, and is therefore quite busy! We spent a day on the chemotherapy ward, a day in consultation clinics, and finally a day observing the various diagnostic imaging machines (CT, MRI) and also Brachy therapy ( used to deliver localized radiation to the cancerous region...mainly oesophageal and cervical seen here). On that note, there is a ridiculous percentage of patients with advanced cervical cancer here, being that they simply do not have the same screening methods we have back home (get your pap’s ladies!!!). The staff was all so friendly and made such an amazing effort to include us and teach us all they could! It was a great experience, and I cannot believe how much oncology knowledge was packed into three days.
Tomorrow we leave for Mongu! We are all very excited about this as we will be driving through a game park on the 8 hour drive there. Crossing my fingers to see some wildlife (c'monnnn Lyger!!! hahaha). All right folks, I’ve got to skedaddle for now...
Much love from Africa...
Kelso
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Yesterday was our first day emersed in the Lusaka hospital for our clinical experience. Many of us felt nervous, and unsure how to help, but as the day progress I think we all began to feel more comfortable where we stood. The Lusaka hospital is huge, but we divided into a few groups and each had an instructor nearby to watch over us. I was assigned to pediatrics, and spent thee first part of the day on the malnutrition ward, and the second part at the Maternal Child Health clinic.
The malnutrition ward is very hard for me to put into words. Imagine a large room with rows of metal cribs, babies crying, families chattering, crowding, heat, smells, bugs crawling on the flors, flies around the children and their bits of food... witnessing children carried into the ward that look to thin it astounds me that they are still breathing.... watching a babe lay limp and her eyes roll back while her mother changed her diaper, because she had no strength left... a small boy brought in with ribs not only showing through the skin but actually protruding, he was so thin. There must have been 30 or so families brining their malnourished children to the wrd for treatment, even though the ward was already full. It is hard to even imagine. Some of the children are frequent patients, as they begin to become nourished in the hospital they go back home where there is no food for them, and arrive back on the ward months later. These children usually suffer from a disease or condition that contributes to the malabsorption of food, such as HIV/AIDs, TB, or other parasitic illnesses. Children most acute are kept closest to the nurses, and are fed by nasogastric tubes (inserted through the nose, these tubes lead to the stomach and allow high-caloric feeds to be directly passed to the stomach). The feeds were made from sour milk, sugar, mineral/vitamin powder, water, and oil -- a mixture made up by the nurses every 12 hours. These sickest babes are too exhausted to eat anymore. The next row of cots has children who are starting to have more energy to eat, and the remanding two rows of cots the children are starting to eat and play again, almost ready to go home.
The majority of my day was spent in public health, helping immunize healthier babies, and make rounds on the pediatric wards to teach mothers the importance of vaccinating their children. I could not help with much of the teaching, since all was spoken in a Zambian dialect, but i was able to give injections to the babes brought into the clinic. About half the mothers bringing their babies in were younger than 20. The nurses in this clinic were extremly welcoming and happy to have me along with them, and we had an opportunity to sit and discuss some of the differences between Canadian and Zambian health care. They laughed and could not believe that in Canada, men and women are on the same ward and even in the same rooms! They had me repeat this to doctors that came in, to see their reactions. The also were shocked that I had never seen a case of TB or malaria in Canada. These are two very prevelent diseases here.
All in all it was a good day, despite the sweltering heat and surprises along the way. As we all came together at the end of the day, it seemed that everyone saw unbelievable sights and had new experiences. This is only the beginning of our journey here as nurses...
This Thursday we will be travelling to Mongu, our resting place for the next 5 weeks or so, and we will try to keep you readers as updated as we can on the sights we see here. Love and miss you all back home,
~Melanie
The malnutrition ward is very hard for me to put into words. Imagine a large room with rows of metal cribs, babies crying, families chattering, crowding, heat, smells, bugs crawling on the flors, flies around the children and their bits of food... witnessing children carried into the ward that look to thin it astounds me that they are still breathing.... watching a babe lay limp and her eyes roll back while her mother changed her diaper, because she had no strength left... a small boy brought in with ribs not only showing through the skin but actually protruding, he was so thin. There must have been 30 or so families brining their malnourished children to the wrd for treatment, even though the ward was already full. It is hard to even imagine. Some of the children are frequent patients, as they begin to become nourished in the hospital they go back home where there is no food for them, and arrive back on the ward months later. These children usually suffer from a disease or condition that contributes to the malabsorption of food, such as HIV/AIDs, TB, or other parasitic illnesses. Children most acute are kept closest to the nurses, and are fed by nasogastric tubes (inserted through the nose, these tubes lead to the stomach and allow high-caloric feeds to be directly passed to the stomach). The feeds were made from sour milk, sugar, mineral/vitamin powder, water, and oil -- a mixture made up by the nurses every 12 hours. These sickest babes are too exhausted to eat anymore. The next row of cots has children who are starting to have more energy to eat, and the remanding two rows of cots the children are starting to eat and play again, almost ready to go home.
The majority of my day was spent in public health, helping immunize healthier babies, and make rounds on the pediatric wards to teach mothers the importance of vaccinating their children. I could not help with much of the teaching, since all was spoken in a Zambian dialect, but i was able to give injections to the babes brought into the clinic. About half the mothers bringing their babies in were younger than 20. The nurses in this clinic were extremly welcoming and happy to have me along with them, and we had an opportunity to sit and discuss some of the differences between Canadian and Zambian health care. They laughed and could not believe that in Canada, men and women are on the same ward and even in the same rooms! They had me repeat this to doctors that came in, to see their reactions. The also were shocked that I had never seen a case of TB or malaria in Canada. These are two very prevelent diseases here.
All in all it was a good day, despite the sweltering heat and surprises along the way. As we all came together at the end of the day, it seemed that everyone saw unbelievable sights and had new experiences. This is only the beginning of our journey here as nurses...
This Thursday we will be travelling to Mongu, our resting place for the next 5 weeks or so, and we will try to keep you readers as updated as we can on the sights we see here. Love and miss you all back home,
~Melanie
Monday, February 7, 2011
Some things are universal.. others not so much!
Yesterday we got back to the place where we are staying in Lusaka, it's called The Cheshire house. The night before we slept over at the zam bikes farm. Basically Jess and Mary (two instructors we are here with) know these guys from the states who run a company that builds bikes in Zambia and employs many of the people in the surrounding village. They have a large house on a wide open property and so all 14 of us climbed in the back of a flat bed truck once again, and drove 45 min to their farm. Once there, we soaked up the sun, played vollleyball, climbed the tree fort and learned about their bike factory. We also admired their many fruit trees. They grow papaya, limes, lemons oranges... the list goes on!
IN the evening we had a braiil (which is an African BBQ) the food was amazing. The evening ended with african dancing, of course modeled for us by the zambians at the party ( as well as their adorable tiny children) It was lots of fun and by the end of the night my face hurt from laughing and smiling!
Later we started to figure out where all 17 of us would be sleeping so we went to explore the bed rooms. Leah pulled the pillow off one of the beds and we discovered a large lizard asleep underneath! We all laughed and I tried unsuccsessfully to catch it. This was all hilarious untill a few hours later when it was decided that I would be the one sleeping there!
Then on the way home we went shopping! All of us had our first hand encournter with bartering, Zambian style :) Many beautiful things were bought at the sunday market... along with a few things we probably didn't need! The prices atarted high and as soon as one thing was bought, it seemed we had a massive sign on our foreheads reading "I will buy anything you offer if you try hard enough"! However we all began to get the hang of their interactions, learned to say no, and thank you! The underlying feel of the interactions for me was always a firm urge to sell, but once you were also firm, even comfortable with what you wanted, things went much smother. I laughed with people and learned about their home towns, and I think spent a fair price on the things I bought. So I was happy, and had fun :)
After our shopping we returned from the zam bikes farm and began to prepare for a day at LTH (Lusaka teaching hospital). Some of us were sunburned ( me, just a little) and I think many were nervous about what we would encounter the next day. Fay, Jess and Mary did a great job of calming our nerves and assured us that we would be with one of them the whole time. I still woke up with sight butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
So this morning at 0715 Elvis and his crew of taxi drivers picked us up and drove us to the hospital. Our group was split into four and we all wandered off to find either the surgical, medical, pediatrics, or oncology ward.
I was on the surgical ward with Mary, Heather, Gabby, and Maranda. I must admit on our first tour I was taken back by the state of the hosipital, however I strongly beleived that I could handle it and everything would be fine... Turns out, my body disagreed with my mind intensly.
For the first hour and a half I was fine. One of the nursing students took us under her wing and taught us how to clean the treatment room, and then all of the stretchers. An hour and a half into our shift and I still hadnt been required to speak to a patient! Very different from what we are expected to do at home. After we were finished cleaning the bed frames then we joined the doctors for rounds and went bed to bed learning about the patient conditions and treatments. The routine in the morning was different for each of us. It is not to say that the patient's were not assessed or cared for while we were cleaning, simply that another group of people were responsible for that.
Many of the patients on the ward we were on had gaping open fractures, external traction, burns to more than 20% of the body, osteomyalitis and infected wounds.
Might I add, it was probably 25 degrees on the ward and the assault of smells we encoutered were totally foreign to me. I've always considered myself to have a horrible sense of smell, but it seamed that the heat had no mercy, and every sent was hightened and intensified.
My mind felt fine, I could handle the images, scents, sounds in front of me, or so I thought. For the next two hours I spent 2min on the ward and then 20 - 30 minutes recovering in the staff room as I fought my bodies urge to knock me off my feet. I felt like the hugest baby as I struggled to keep from fainting. Not to mention the wonderful nurses who came to check on me... which made me feel guilty.
Things got better around 11 3o, and we were only there till 13:00. So I guess the day went ok, I never actually passed out cold, although I was close many times.
It was a difficult day physically. It was also very interesting mentally. The sights we encountered were unlike anything I had seen at home. Wounds deeper than I had encountered before, burns covering surfaces that I hadn't imagined could peel away. I am not the most squeemish person however the open fractures were a sight I could have done without.
The people were so brave, crowded on the ward. Sometimes on mattressess on the floor. I watched as people grit through the pain of dressing changes without medication, watched the nurses fearlessly face conditions in which I would not have the slightest idea where to start.
All the while smiling and joking amongst each other; patients, families and staff alike... of course with a few exceptions. The doctors and nurses taught us as if they were investing in the future of their own staff. The kindness was incredible and of course very touching. Some things in nursing are universal <3
There was a moment I felt like crying, couldn't control my body and began to doubt whether it wasnt linked to the unconscious occurings in my mind. Questioned whether I was really ment to be there... Then a nurse came in to chat with me and teach me some of her language. And soon the moment was passed.
I love it here in a wierd way. It's awkward and hot at times, cold and crammed at others. But underneath it all I can't help but feel as though I am in the thick of things. That day to day life here is so much more eventful in a quite kind of way... in a sense a more colourful way.
I have barely begun to understand what life is like here, but I am starting to navigate my own. Tomorrow we have another day on the ward and I can only hope to learn even more in the morning, and perhaps hope that this time, my body will cope!
hope things at home in Canada are going well for everyone :) Thanks for reading, and for supporting us.
~Jess (L)
IN the evening we had a braiil (which is an African BBQ) the food was amazing. The evening ended with african dancing, of course modeled for us by the zambians at the party ( as well as their adorable tiny children) It was lots of fun and by the end of the night my face hurt from laughing and smiling!
Later we started to figure out where all 17 of us would be sleeping so we went to explore the bed rooms. Leah pulled the pillow off one of the beds and we discovered a large lizard asleep underneath! We all laughed and I tried unsuccsessfully to catch it. This was all hilarious untill a few hours later when it was decided that I would be the one sleeping there!
Then on the way home we went shopping! All of us had our first hand encournter with bartering, Zambian style :) Many beautiful things were bought at the sunday market... along with a few things we probably didn't need! The prices atarted high and as soon as one thing was bought, it seemed we had a massive sign on our foreheads reading "I will buy anything you offer if you try hard enough"! However we all began to get the hang of their interactions, learned to say no, and thank you! The underlying feel of the interactions for me was always a firm urge to sell, but once you were also firm, even comfortable with what you wanted, things went much smother. I laughed with people and learned about their home towns, and I think spent a fair price on the things I bought. So I was happy, and had fun :)
After our shopping we returned from the zam bikes farm and began to prepare for a day at LTH (Lusaka teaching hospital). Some of us were sunburned ( me, just a little) and I think many were nervous about what we would encounter the next day. Fay, Jess and Mary did a great job of calming our nerves and assured us that we would be with one of them the whole time. I still woke up with sight butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
So this morning at 0715 Elvis and his crew of taxi drivers picked us up and drove us to the hospital. Our group was split into four and we all wandered off to find either the surgical, medical, pediatrics, or oncology ward.
I was on the surgical ward with Mary, Heather, Gabby, and Maranda. I must admit on our first tour I was taken back by the state of the hosipital, however I strongly beleived that I could handle it and everything would be fine... Turns out, my body disagreed with my mind intensly.
For the first hour and a half I was fine. One of the nursing students took us under her wing and taught us how to clean the treatment room, and then all of the stretchers. An hour and a half into our shift and I still hadnt been required to speak to a patient! Very different from what we are expected to do at home. After we were finished cleaning the bed frames then we joined the doctors for rounds and went bed to bed learning about the patient conditions and treatments. The routine in the morning was different for each of us. It is not to say that the patient's were not assessed or cared for while we were cleaning, simply that another group of people were responsible for that.
Many of the patients on the ward we were on had gaping open fractures, external traction, burns to more than 20% of the body, osteomyalitis and infected wounds.
Might I add, it was probably 25 degrees on the ward and the assault of smells we encoutered were totally foreign to me. I've always considered myself to have a horrible sense of smell, but it seamed that the heat had no mercy, and every sent was hightened and intensified.
My mind felt fine, I could handle the images, scents, sounds in front of me, or so I thought. For the next two hours I spent 2min on the ward and then 20 - 30 minutes recovering in the staff room as I fought my bodies urge to knock me off my feet. I felt like the hugest baby as I struggled to keep from fainting. Not to mention the wonderful nurses who came to check on me... which made me feel guilty.
Things got better around 11 3o, and we were only there till 13:00. So I guess the day went ok, I never actually passed out cold, although I was close many times.
It was a difficult day physically. It was also very interesting mentally. The sights we encountered were unlike anything I had seen at home. Wounds deeper than I had encountered before, burns covering surfaces that I hadn't imagined could peel away. I am not the most squeemish person however the open fractures were a sight I could have done without.
The people were so brave, crowded on the ward. Sometimes on mattressess on the floor. I watched as people grit through the pain of dressing changes without medication, watched the nurses fearlessly face conditions in which I would not have the slightest idea where to start.
All the while smiling and joking amongst each other; patients, families and staff alike... of course with a few exceptions. The doctors and nurses taught us as if they were investing in the future of their own staff. The kindness was incredible and of course very touching. Some things in nursing are universal <3
There was a moment I felt like crying, couldn't control my body and began to doubt whether it wasnt linked to the unconscious occurings in my mind. Questioned whether I was really ment to be there... Then a nurse came in to chat with me and teach me some of her language. And soon the moment was passed.
I love it here in a wierd way. It's awkward and hot at times, cold and crammed at others. But underneath it all I can't help but feel as though I am in the thick of things. That day to day life here is so much more eventful in a quite kind of way... in a sense a more colourful way.
I have barely begun to understand what life is like here, but I am starting to navigate my own. Tomorrow we have another day on the ward and I can only hope to learn even more in the morning, and perhaps hope that this time, my body will cope!
hope things at home in Canada are going well for everyone :) Thanks for reading, and for supporting us.
~Jess (L)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Settling in Lusaka
Hello everyone! Day three in Zambia and I feel like I havent stopped sweating! The scenery here is amazing, and it has been sunny ever since we've been here (knock on wood, I prefer the sunshine to rain!) As Jess already said we still be going to a BBQ and volleyball game today. We plan to stay in lusaka for this week, and head to mongu thursday perhaps. The internet is very slow here and cuts out often so please be patient with our blogs! Love you all back home, and miss you like crazy.
~Melanie
~Melanie
Friday, February 4, 2011
"you know from the pounding in your chest that love is important"
It’s 9:00 am on Feb 5th and i’m sitting hunched over in Hannah’s bed. Kelsey’s computer is heating my legs and my back is cool from the wind outside our open window. I would climb into my own bed, but the power cord won’t reach 6 rows down to where my single bed is resting. .... Well here goes my first attempt to fit the first portion of our trip into thoughts. Then organized those thoughts into sentences. Needless to say, forgive me for my horrible grammar and one sided opinions!
We arrived in Lusaka and then completed the half hour high way drive in the back of a flat bed truck! As gabby updated everyone last night, we got many interested looks from the local people. I am still unsure if this is because 14 white girls was an unusual sight or if the sight of any fourteen people in the back of a flat bed truck would be unusual. Then of course the truck we are in broke down on the side of the highway and Jess came and quoted our favourite saying TIA (“this is Africa”). Although this was a minor inconvenience the people are resourceful, and quickly the entire front portion of the truck was flipped forward. The driver and some bystanders quickly got on cell phones (everyone has one) and the issue was solved in minutes.
Shortly after, we arrived at Chesshire House in Kabulonga. The catholic sisters run this home for physically disabled children, and have set us all up in one bedroom! All fourteen of us have single beds which are lined up side by side. I think we are all feeling a little like sardines, but we are also haveing tons of fun. Multiple girls have brought up how we feel like we are in summer camp The rest of the day is a blur of playing with children, napping, and getting used to our new setting. Fay graciously treated us for dinner at the Irish Pub where we had dinner, and by the time we were done the conversation at my end of the table was sparse. All of us tired and no longer feeling the need to fill empty spaces with idle chatter.
The first night in our “dorm” was really fun. All of us hung our mosquito nets and dragged the things we needed out of our over stuffed packs. Most girls dragged out their headlamps and I must say we looked like a sexy bunch ;) When the over head lights went out, the room seemed to be swimming with jellyfish, the underbellies of our mosquito nets illuminated with the glow of headlights. It was pretty cool.
Day two we went and toured the University Teaching Hospital (UTH) in Lusaka. This is the largest hospital in all of Zambia and contains the only MRI and CT in the entire country. Our guides were wonderful and shared with us details on each of their many departments. What we all assumed would be a short, half hour to fourty five minute tour, turned into a three and a half hours! We were all very grateful for the information, however personally I was a bit overwhelmed, hungry, hot and tired by the end of it.
The woman who showed us the tour of the paediatric wings, informed us before we walked in that “ we do not have the resources that you have in your countries, however we do the best we can with what we have.” This is definitely true, at first the difference in equipment is evident in the extra space they seam to have in the halls, however is even more obvious when faced with the patient to nurse ratio. Aprox 40 patients per nurse in each of the wards, except for the “high cost wards” which were mostly empty.
In the evening we went out for Mexican food and everything tasted amazing. Then all the girls caught taxis back to Cheshire home. I have no idea what the other girls experiences were like in the taxis last night, but Kelsey, Leah, Lynnelle and I had a fun filled ride home. Our taxi driver, Elvis, chatted animatedly with us, and shared his advice on life, Zambia, taxis, and Partying!
“Can I tell you,” he said in his beautiful Zambian accent, “ Life is a challenge. However you know from the pounding in your chest that the heart’s love is important. You must find someone to love to share the challenges of life”. I was sold! From now on we will be calling him everytime we need a taxi. He gave us hints on how to know when you are at increased risk of being pick pocketed, taught us not to get into taxis with two men in the car. And gave us general tips about going dancing! Not that we have been dancing, but you never know He finished his speech by telling us that “he must tell us, or we won’t know, but now we have a choice to follow his advice or not.” Really we don’t have much of a choice, you have to be safe, and so we are grateful for his words.
Today we are all going to the Farm where the Zambike guys live. We have been challenged to a game of Volleyball and our more talented women are ready to rock the court... or whatever you call it! Anyways, this has gotten extremely long.... thank you for taking the time to share in our stories and read what we write. There will be many more stories when we get home.
Loving it here, missing those I love.
~ Jess (L)
We arrived in Lusaka and then completed the half hour high way drive in the back of a flat bed truck! As gabby updated everyone last night, we got many interested looks from the local people. I am still unsure if this is because 14 white girls was an unusual sight or if the sight of any fourteen people in the back of a flat bed truck would be unusual. Then of course the truck we are in broke down on the side of the highway and Jess came and quoted our favourite saying TIA (“this is Africa”). Although this was a minor inconvenience the people are resourceful, and quickly the entire front portion of the truck was flipped forward. The driver and some bystanders quickly got on cell phones (everyone has one) and the issue was solved in minutes.
Shortly after, we arrived at Chesshire House in Kabulonga. The catholic sisters run this home for physically disabled children, and have set us all up in one bedroom! All fourteen of us have single beds which are lined up side by side. I think we are all feeling a little like sardines, but we are also haveing tons of fun. Multiple girls have brought up how we feel like we are in summer camp The rest of the day is a blur of playing with children, napping, and getting used to our new setting. Fay graciously treated us for dinner at the Irish Pub where we had dinner, and by the time we were done the conversation at my end of the table was sparse. All of us tired and no longer feeling the need to fill empty spaces with idle chatter.
The first night in our “dorm” was really fun. All of us hung our mosquito nets and dragged the things we needed out of our over stuffed packs. Most girls dragged out their headlamps and I must say we looked like a sexy bunch ;) When the over head lights went out, the room seemed to be swimming with jellyfish, the underbellies of our mosquito nets illuminated with the glow of headlights. It was pretty cool.
Day two we went and toured the University Teaching Hospital (UTH) in Lusaka. This is the largest hospital in all of Zambia and contains the only MRI and CT in the entire country. Our guides were wonderful and shared with us details on each of their many departments. What we all assumed would be a short, half hour to fourty five minute tour, turned into a three and a half hours! We were all very grateful for the information, however personally I was a bit overwhelmed, hungry, hot and tired by the end of it.
The woman who showed us the tour of the paediatric wings, informed us before we walked in that “ we do not have the resources that you have in your countries, however we do the best we can with what we have.” This is definitely true, at first the difference in equipment is evident in the extra space they seam to have in the halls, however is even more obvious when faced with the patient to nurse ratio. Aprox 40 patients per nurse in each of the wards, except for the “high cost wards” which were mostly empty.
In the evening we went out for Mexican food and everything tasted amazing. Then all the girls caught taxis back to Cheshire home. I have no idea what the other girls experiences were like in the taxis last night, but Kelsey, Leah, Lynnelle and I had a fun filled ride home. Our taxi driver, Elvis, chatted animatedly with us, and shared his advice on life, Zambia, taxis, and Partying!
“Can I tell you,” he said in his beautiful Zambian accent, “ Life is a challenge. However you know from the pounding in your chest that the heart’s love is important. You must find someone to love to share the challenges of life”. I was sold! From now on we will be calling him everytime we need a taxi. He gave us hints on how to know when you are at increased risk of being pick pocketed, taught us not to get into taxis with two men in the car. And gave us general tips about going dancing! Not that we have been dancing, but you never know He finished his speech by telling us that “he must tell us, or we won’t know, but now we have a choice to follow his advice or not.” Really we don’t have much of a choice, you have to be safe, and so we are grateful for his words.
Today we are all going to the Farm where the Zambike guys live. We have been challenged to a game of Volleyball and our more talented women are ready to rock the court... or whatever you call it! Anyways, this has gotten extremely long.... thank you for taking the time to share in our stories and read what we write. There will be many more stories when we get home.
Loving it here, missing those I love.
~ Jess (L)
The Adventure Begins
After meeting up with the rest of the gang in London we all flew in to Lusaka landing around 6:45am on February 3rd. As we staggered off the plane our eyes needed to adjust to the bright sun. The temperature was already at 20 degrees Celsius and it was a little bit muggy with some clouds in the sky. As we waited in line for our visa we all rehearsed our stories. “We are nurses from Canada going to VOLUNTEER in Mongu and we need a BUSINESS visa.” After gathering our bags we were greeted by Fay, Jessica, Mary, and Benjamin (our driver). We loaded the back of the truck with all of our bags making room at the back for ourselves. Picture a truck filled 50 pieces of luggage (hockey bags to backpacks) and 15 white girls going down the road. Many heads turned to see this sight and waved. Feeling like celebrities we all waved back.
About midway into our journey the roar of the truck engine died and we coasted to the side of the road. As Benjamin attempted to start the truck only the whine of the engine could be heard. Our experienced leaders showed no panic as they smiled and welcomed us to Africa. Eventually the truck started and engulfed Fay, Jessica, and Mary in black fumes.
We carried on our way to Chesire Home. This is where we will be residing for a week and a bit. We were greeted by the nuns and shown to our dorm. We made ourselves at home in the cute little room with 15 beds and a bathroom with 2 showers. From there we were left to explore. Traveling in groups we hit up the nearest ATM, food establishment, and grocery store. As some of us napped others went outside to play with the children that attended the school in the complex.
We took short taxi ride to an Irish Pub for dinner. The food was fabulous! A few dishes that we had were shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, burgers, and potato jacket. During dinner we all picked the brains of Fay, Mary, and Jessica asking questions of what we should expect for the next couple of weeks. Full and tired we headed back to our place. With a hospital tour scheduled for tomorrow, we all got ready to bed. We all finicked and fiddled with our bed bug sheets and mosquito nets and eventually got settled in so that Fay, Jess, and Mary could come tuck us in.
- Gabby
About midway into our journey the roar of the truck engine died and we coasted to the side of the road. As Benjamin attempted to start the truck only the whine of the engine could be heard. Our experienced leaders showed no panic as they smiled and welcomed us to Africa. Eventually the truck started and engulfed Fay, Jessica, and Mary in black fumes.
We carried on our way to Chesire Home. This is where we will be residing for a week and a bit. We were greeted by the nuns and shown to our dorm. We made ourselves at home in the cute little room with 15 beds and a bathroom with 2 showers. From there we were left to explore. Traveling in groups we hit up the nearest ATM, food establishment, and grocery store. As some of us napped others went outside to play with the children that attended the school in the complex.
We took short taxi ride to an Irish Pub for dinner. The food was fabulous! A few dishes that we had were shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, burgers, and potato jacket. During dinner we all picked the brains of Fay, Mary, and Jessica asking questions of what we should expect for the next couple of weeks. Full and tired we headed back to our place. With a hospital tour scheduled for tomorrow, we all got ready to bed. We all finicked and fiddled with our bed bug sheets and mosquito nets and eventually got settled in so that Fay, Jess, and Mary could come tuck us in.
- Gabby
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Almost gone...........
We are just about gone! Yippee!
Most of the group has already flown over the ocean. There are only a few of us left packing the remainder of our belongings into already overstuffed bags. It is amazing how much stuff a person thinks they need, even more amazing how much a person can shove into a bag when it is already full!
Some of the group decided to take a few days in London before heading on to Zambia- I've heard from them that they are tired and cold but safely in London and enjoying the adventure so far. There are 6 of us left in Canada and we have gone from counting the days to counting the hours until take off....we're at 48 exactly in case you were wondering. Tomorrow we brave the drive to Vancouver- sure hope the roads are good!
Someone asked me what we packed in our big bags for Zambia- the question is what did we NOT pack! Seriously, we packed enough stuff to supply a small orphanage and hospital! Some major things I remember are:
-clothes
-baby hats and blankets
-toys and art supplies
-TONS OF STICKERS!
-medicine
-wound dressing supplies
-suction tubing and neonatal resuscitation equipment
-glucometer testing strips and readers (to check blood sugar levels)
-gloves
-textbooks and other teaching materials
It was really fun to pack and at times we were overwhelmed at the generosity of everyone who donated stuff for us to take! A HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who gave!
And now we just wait for our plane to take off...with us in it of course! Then we will meet our fellow students in the London airport from which we will take off to Lusaka together. Fay, Jess and Mary are waiting for us there- last I heard they were even going to go grocery shopping for us ahead of time- oh the service we get from them :)
Looking forward to this great adventure!
~Jessana
Most of the group has already flown over the ocean. There are only a few of us left packing the remainder of our belongings into already overstuffed bags. It is amazing how much stuff a person thinks they need, even more amazing how much a person can shove into a bag when it is already full!
Some of the group decided to take a few days in London before heading on to Zambia- I've heard from them that they are tired and cold but safely in London and enjoying the adventure so far. There are 6 of us left in Canada and we have gone from counting the days to counting the hours until take off....we're at 48 exactly in case you were wondering. Tomorrow we brave the drive to Vancouver- sure hope the roads are good!
Someone asked me what we packed in our big bags for Zambia- the question is what did we NOT pack! Seriously, we packed enough stuff to supply a small orphanage and hospital! Some major things I remember are:
-clothes
-baby hats and blankets
-toys and art supplies
-TONS OF STICKERS!
-medicine
-wound dressing supplies
-suction tubing and neonatal resuscitation equipment
-glucometer testing strips and readers (to check blood sugar levels)
-gloves
-textbooks and other teaching materials
It was really fun to pack and at times we were overwhelmed at the generosity of everyone who donated stuff for us to take! A HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who gave!
And now we just wait for our plane to take off...with us in it of course! Then we will meet our fellow students in the London airport from which we will take off to Lusaka together. Fay, Jess and Mary are waiting for us there- last I heard they were even going to go grocery shopping for us ahead of time- oh the service we get from them :)
Looking forward to this great adventure!
~Jessana
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