E, D and I emerge from our respective mosquito net cocoons, have a quick bite to eat and are soon headed back to the hospital and clinic.
Our first stop is an 8am briefing with the medical officers, 2nd and 3rd year medical officers (in training) and physicians forming an antagonistic, inward-facing square in the room. Patient conditions are reviewed and ‘discussed’.
Our first stop is an 8am briefing with the medical officers, 2nd and 3rd year medical officers (in training) and physicians forming an antagonistic, inward-facing square in the room. Patient conditions are reviewed and ‘discussed’.
Open communication is lacking – I am the opinionated silent fly on the wall.
I shadow D. E is doing his rounds with specific patients. I recognize kids and parents I saw yesterday. I wonder whether their nights were comfortable. Two of the children that E & D helped Thursday have passed away during the night. Others have been down-/upgraded and have been moved. Most beds are occupied.
Why don’t the parents flag Doc D down and wrest him to take a look at their child? Have they tried this before to no avail? Are they excruciatingly patient and willing to wait? Have they lost hope? Have they exhausted their alternatives?
We walk through the wards and D helps where he can. Some parents seem stoical.
D works alongside a medical officer in training – I’m told by D he asks the right questions and is doing very well. I’m encouraged. Another sign of progress: E’s church from the US has managed to secure remuneration for the translators through the rest of the calendar year. This is very good news. D and I sit in on the meeting where this is conveyed to the group and also meet the pink-shrouded team – who to this point have been more or less volunteering their services to the clinic. This group of seven is making a difference.
I shadow D. E is doing his rounds with specific patients. I recognize kids and parents I saw yesterday. I wonder whether their nights were comfortable. Two of the children that E & D helped Thursday have passed away during the night. Others have been down-/upgraded and have been moved. Most beds are occupied.
Why don’t the parents flag Doc D down and wrest him to take a look at their child? Have they tried this before to no avail? Are they excruciatingly patient and willing to wait? Have they lost hope? Have they exhausted their alternatives?
We walk through the wards and D helps where he can. Some parents seem stoical.
D works alongside a medical officer in training – I’m told by D he asks the right questions and is doing very well. I’m encouraged. Another sign of progress: E’s church from the US has managed to secure remuneration for the translators through the rest of the calendar year. This is very good news. D and I sit in on the meeting where this is conveyed to the group and also meet the pink-shrouded team – who to this point have been more or less volunteering their services to the clinic. This group of seven is making a difference.
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