Dear friends,
Hope this finds everyone doing well and enjoying whatever it is that you’re doing!
Since my last post, I’ve been busy immersing myself in various clinical experiences, doing 7k races through Malawian brush land and villages, sailing, eating sugarcane, hanging out with my local friend and his cute children, “helping” harvest rice and doing Ashtanga yoga on my front porch with my roommate Rushina.
The setup here is really nice. I live in a house with one of my friends from school, Rushina, a UNC MD/PhD student. We live in walking distance from the Tidziwe Center, which is a building that has a lab, office space, some clinics and a wonderful library with a lot of good medicine books. It’s the home base for the UNC Project. Kamuzu Central Hospital, the hospital that I’m working at this week, is also within the same complex. It’s very convenient because I’m able to walk to work.
My first couple of days was spent working in an STD clinic which was pretty interesting. I was actually able to communicate with a lot of the clients since they could speak English. Most people had so much pride about their HIV serostatus which was surprising but I guess it makes sense given the context. If they were nonreactive, they made it a point to let me know. There’s one young couple in particular that stands out in my mind. They had taken a three hour bus ride to come to the clinic. The 24 year old wife had her hair carefully done and wore a beautiful traditional outfit. When I was going through the history and asking about HIV testing, the husband looked at me and said, “Dear Madame, we are a God fearing, Christian couple and we don’t have HIV. I want you to know that.” He made us do an HIV test on both of them (even though his wife didn’t want her finger to be pricked) just because he wanted us to know their status. He told us, “We are proud and want everyone to know our status. We have nothing to be ashamed of.” Even though AIDS is so rampant here, the stigma associated with those who are HIV positive is overwhelming.
I also found myself shocked by the number of coffin making shops in town. On my drive to Bottom Hospital, another hospital that I worked at last week, I was horrified by the number of shops there are that make coffins. One street is lined with these shops. There’s one after another. It’s a popular livelihood, making coffins, since so many people are dying every day.
I don’t want to end on a dark note since there’s plenty of lightness here. So I’ll just say that with all of the death, havoc and chaos that the HIV epidemic is wreaking here in Malawi, the people are very resilient indeed. Just today I was in the admitting room of the hospital, working with an AIDS patient whose condition was drastically deteriorating. Amidst her gasps of pain, horror and misery, a group of four women encircled her and sang a beautiful song of prayer in Chichewa. I got the chills from hearing the patient’s gasps of agony but hearing the comforting, spiritual voices of these women gave me the chills in a way that I’ve never felt before. Something about their voices lifted my hope for my patient. And then a young gentleman who worked in the laboratory whom I had met while retrieving the patient’s CBC results came to the bedside of this patient. I looked at him inquisitively, wondering why he had come. He looked at me and said, “Dear Madame, I learned of this patient. I want to pray for this patient because God can help, I have seen it and I know.” These little gestures like seeing patient’s family members praying for and caring for the patients make all the difference. Medically, there are only so many things that can be done to increase a patient’s chances of survival. I feel comforted when I see a family member holding the hand of a patient or softly singing songs of prayer to lift their spirits. I also feel comforted as I work alongside doctors, clinical officers and nurses who don’t “knock off (leave to go home)” unless they are sure they’ve done all they can for their patients. These small acts of compassion bring a sense of hope amidst a sea of chaos.
Signing off until next time,
Sima
Hope this finds everyone doing well and enjoying whatever it is that you’re doing!
Since my last post, I’ve been busy immersing myself in various clinical experiences, doing 7k races through Malawian brush land and villages, sailing, eating sugarcane, hanging out with my local friend and his cute children, “helping” harvest rice and doing Ashtanga yoga on my front porch with my roommate Rushina.
The setup here is really nice. I live in a house with one of my friends from school, Rushina, a UNC MD/PhD student. We live in walking distance from the Tidziwe Center, which is a building that has a lab, office space, some clinics and a wonderful library with a lot of good medicine books. It’s the home base for the UNC Project. Kamuzu Central Hospital, the hospital that I’m working at this week, is also within the same complex. It’s very convenient because I’m able to walk to work.
My first couple of days was spent working in an STD clinic which was pretty interesting. I was actually able to communicate with a lot of the clients since they could speak English. Most people had so much pride about their HIV serostatus which was surprising but I guess it makes sense given the context. If they were nonreactive, they made it a point to let me know. There’s one young couple in particular that stands out in my mind. They had taken a three hour bus ride to come to the clinic. The 24 year old wife had her hair carefully done and wore a beautiful traditional outfit. When I was going through the history and asking about HIV testing, the husband looked at me and said, “Dear Madame, we are a God fearing, Christian couple and we don’t have HIV. I want you to know that.” He made us do an HIV test on both of them (even though his wife didn’t want her finger to be pricked) just because he wanted us to know their status. He told us, “We are proud and want everyone to know our status. We have nothing to be ashamed of.” Even though AIDS is so rampant here, the stigma associated with those who are HIV positive is overwhelming.
I also found myself shocked by the number of coffin making shops in town. On my drive to Bottom Hospital, another hospital that I worked at last week, I was horrified by the number of shops there are that make coffins. One street is lined with these shops. There’s one after another. It’s a popular livelihood, making coffins, since so many people are dying every day.
I don’t want to end on a dark note since there’s plenty of lightness here. So I’ll just say that with all of the death, havoc and chaos that the HIV epidemic is wreaking here in Malawi, the people are very resilient indeed. Just today I was in the admitting room of the hospital, working with an AIDS patient whose condition was drastically deteriorating. Amidst her gasps of pain, horror and misery, a group of four women encircled her and sang a beautiful song of prayer in Chichewa. I got the chills from hearing the patient’s gasps of agony but hearing the comforting, spiritual voices of these women gave me the chills in a way that I’ve never felt before. Something about their voices lifted my hope for my patient. And then a young gentleman who worked in the laboratory whom I had met while retrieving the patient’s CBC results came to the bedside of this patient. I looked at him inquisitively, wondering why he had come. He looked at me and said, “Dear Madame, I learned of this patient. I want to pray for this patient because God can help, I have seen it and I know.” These little gestures like seeing patient’s family members praying for and caring for the patients make all the difference. Medically, there are only so many things that can be done to increase a patient’s chances of survival. I feel comforted when I see a family member holding the hand of a patient or softly singing songs of prayer to lift their spirits. I also feel comforted as I work alongside doctors, clinical officers and nurses who don’t “knock off (leave to go home)” unless they are sure they’ve done all they can for their patients. These small acts of compassion bring a sense of hope amidst a sea of chaos.
Signing off until next time,
Sima
1 comment:
Dear Sima
This is VJ Velu from the RTP Rotary Club. We enjoyed reading your BLOG. Keep up the great work and please brings tons of photographs back for our International Community Service Archives. Video Clips too..if you have any.
Looking forward to your Club Visit with more updates..
Good Luck
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