A "typical" day

Some people have asked us, “what is a typical day for yall?” I reply, “there is no such thing.” When we wake up in the morning, we usually have some sort of idea as to how we foresee the day going, but it inevitably is never what we have envisioned.

Today: We woke up, got dressed, made coffee and toast, had quiet time and read a devotional, and headed out the door to the clinic. That part of the day is usually pretty much under our control, but once we walk out of the door, anything can happen.

I headed into the Nursing Room first per usual. I greeted Doreen, the head nurse, and asked her to update me on the patients currently in the room. There was the usual malaria of course and one case of bad pneumonia. I then treated a pregnant woman who had a UTIand malaria, and also gave some maintenance medications to patients. Once that room slowed down a bit, I decided to sit with one of the providers, Alex. I’ve been wanting to sit with him and observe him seeing patients, but it has been hard to find an opportunity. When we have pharmacy students here, they spend a lot of time with the providers. We have some coming next month, so I am trying to get in some time with the providers while I can.

With Alex, I saw a few expectant mothers. He did some ultrasounds, and that was the first time I’d seen an ultrasound of a fetus in person. I thought it was fascinating and exciting, but the mother showed no emotion. I don’t know if that is a cultural thing, or perhaps she has already done this a few times and it is no longer exciting to her. I was excited enough for the both of us. I thought it was so fascinating to see a human body moving around inside another person and seeing the heart beating. The ultrasound here is not as clear as the ones you see at home, but you could still see the skeleton and outline of the body pretty well. After that patient, we saw a young girl, about 2 years old, who was having abdominal distention and abdominal pain. We did a scan of her abdomen and saw that her bladder was enlarged, and she was experiencing urinary retention. After some searching, we found a small enough catheter to do an in-and-out catheterization. It was successful, and the child seemed to experience some relief.

After seeing a few patients, I got a text from someone saying that they were in need of some financial assistance. I told them I would meet them at the house to talk about it. I got to the house, and while I was waiting for my guest, I heard a small voice from the back door. There was a young boy, about 9 or 10 years old, standing there in his school uniform. We exchanged hello’s and how are you’s , and I asked him how I could help him. I figured he was just going to ask if he could get some mangos from our trees in the backyard like all of the other children that have been coming by. Instead, he said in a small meek voice, “I’m hungry.” I asked him, “Did you not go home for lunch today?” All of the children have a break from 1-2pm to go home for lunch. He said his parents would not let him come home for lunch and that they have been beating him. He said that he was late coming home from school last night, and before he had a chance to explain, they beat him. He showed me his arm which had some cuts and bruises, and his upper thigh which had some long thin welts on it. I asked him what they were beating him with, and he said sticks. I looked him over, and nothing seemed to be broken, but we asked him if he had gone to the clinic. He said that he was refused. We asked him what clinic he had gone to, and he told us Masindi Hospital. We asked him if he knew about our clinic, MKMC, just around the corner. He said he did, so we told him to go there, and he will not be refused. Newman wrote him a note on some paper explaining that we wanted him to be seen and told him to give it to one of the staff. I gave him an apple, some carrot sticks, and some crackers to eat. We explained to him that it is NOT ok for people to beat him, and that if he does not feel safe to go for help. He thanked us and began to walk away. Newman left the house shortly after that in the car and said that he passed the boy on the road walking to the clinic. He picked him up and took him to see Nurse Doreen. Newman was then able to get a little bit more information since there were people there to translate. Apparently he lives with his grandmother and uncle and they were the ones beating him. Newman asked one of the male staff members who were leaving for the day to walk the boy home and see that he is ok.  

After all of that, my guest showed up to explain that she had no money for food for her and her children. I gave her a small loan in exchange for her doing our laundry the next time we need it done. On her way out the door, she saw a broken suitcase in a pile of things we have to donate. She said, “Ah! Trishy! Where can I get a bag like that?” I said, “Well, this one is somewhat broken, but you can have it if you want.” She replied enthusiastically, “Sure!” (The word “sure” here means, “Really?” or “are you serious?”) I said, “yes of course.” So, off she marched with broken bag in hand and smile on her face. The phrase “one man’s trash, is another man’s treasure” is so true here.

So, now it is about 4pm, and who knows what the rest of the day will be like. I still have some work to do that I was supposed to get done in these past few hours of visitors, and Newman I’m sure will be running around for a few more hours. And then the power will probably go out, as it has been the past few days between 5 and 8. And who knows what we will have for dinner. My guess is some combination of rice, an avocado, and maybe some beans.

So even with unpredictable days, we are so thankful that we have food, a job, and a safe home.