I’ve been able to spend some time in our clinics, following our staff around.
I got to see a brand-new, soft, clean Sudanese baby - skin smooth and silky like chocolate milk.
I observed as a group of patients waiting under a tree listened to a health education message about STIs and engaged in some lively discussion on the topic.
I saw a man the day before he died from a gunshot wound from an ambush on the road just outside the town I was in and a woman with a gunshot wound in her hand, the consequences of a roudy dispute where a gun was too close at hand.
I watched as one of our staff dressed the severe burn on the entire back of a woman who fell on a fire during an epileptic seizure.
I got to see a very beautiful, but nasty schistosomiasis parasite under the microscope in the lab. I met some giggling girls splashing in the stagnant river/swamp water and watched as one of our staff explained about the dangers of getting schistosomiasis.
I got to listen with a stethoscope to a baby's raspy breathing due to pneumonia, and played with babies waiting in queue for their vaccinations so that we don't see them later in their lives as victims of polio or a measles outbreak.
And I stood in on a children’s club under a tree as they sang songs about peace and loving each other, after learning about hand washing.
It’s encouraging to see on this end that some things are indeed working, and the services are being delivered. It’s easy to get all tied up in politics and donor reports and emails and meetings in
1 comment:
it's GREAT testament to you that after so many months in such trying conditions you see beyond the vast number of negatives to what it is that this work is all about (as if sitting in my comfy chair in moscow, or even running around from government building to government building in tashkent is even remotely similar!). but i do know that the exhaustion isn't just physical... so, i repeat - it takes an extraordinary person, with great commitment, heart and patience to do what you do. keep it up!
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