Hospital Tour

October 14, 2009

We got back to Gulu just fine yesterday, even though the bus ride exhausted me. I can’t say I will miss those long drives. Then I began back to work this morning. Because there had been no films there were quite a few patients to x-ray so I began right away. I had only been able to purchase two boxes of films, and with the load on this day, I knew they would not last long, but I began working anyway. I felt like the intensity of my demeanor turned up a little because of the patient load, but thats ok. I can’t do it all the time, but sometimes its really nice to be so busy and get the adrenaline running.

There were some frustrations, however, as patients do not wear identification. I had called the name of a patient and a certain man stood up, saying he was the one. With no patient identifiers, I took him at his word. Come to find out, he was not that patient, but the patient was really the one from the ward who had to wait all morning while we figured out the problem. I never saw the first patient again, which was even more frustrating. I don’t understand why he’d come get x-rayed for no reason, but then again, there are a few things here that I don’t understand. 

One blessing of this day, though, was that there seemed to be an extraordinary amount of patients who spoke English. It is such an incredible blessing every time it happens! I never would have thought that it would really make that much of a difference, but especially on busy days, it makes all the difference in the world. If nothing else, this experience has really made me more grateful for things in the US that I have taken for granted in the past. Being able to communicate with patients adequately is definitely one of those.

I had a patient come with an order for a hysterosalpingiogram. This exam, to test the patency of the fallopian tubes, is impossible to complete our department. I had to turn her away, but before that, I looked at the indication on the requisition. She has been married for one year and has been unable to conceive in that time. Immediately I understood the implications of that. This culture is very big on family. So much of people’s lives are centered around their families and the number of children a wife is able to ‘give’ to her husband ends up determining his place in the society. The more the better, and in the village, a man is not considered a man (able to sit in the counsel of the elders) unless he has children. Many children mean that your name will continue on, and that the legacy is bigger. So to read that this woman has been unable to conceive is no small thing. Her barrenness may become a source of shame and contention in her marriage if she is unable to carry a child. Even if the man is the culprit for the problem conceiving, the woman will still sustain the brunt of the shame. I pray that this particular woman does end up being able to conceive.

I took lunch at Cafe Larem and spent my time reading the New Vision (one of Uganda’s papers) and eating a delicious grilled cheese and tomato sandwich. I had seen a few other white people at the hospital earlier in the morning but only from a distance. But as I was sitting at the cafe I recognized one. I asked him if he was working at GRRH and he said for the time, yes. Normally they work at Gulu Independent, but had been doing some classes at GRRH in conjunction with the University. Nick, as he introduced himself, is part of a small group from a hospital in Manchester that is here on an exchange sort of program. It was a great conversation for me, as it afforded me an outlet to speak about the challenges of providing medical care here. And how being in a place like this makes us appreciate where we were able to work before. We also discussed the pain tolerance of people here, and how its so much higher than people in the UK or in the States. How if the people we would care for were asked to endure a fraction of what people here do, they would scream. Its incredible how different things are.

After I returned from lunch and we had given the results to patients, Charles began showing me around the hospital. I had never seen the other wards and was curious. We began at the TB ward, then to pediatrics, nutrition, medical and surgery. At the urging of Charles, I had brought my camera along. Some people wanted me to pay them for the photos I clicked, but Charles luckily explained that I was a volunteer and would tell their stories through those pictures. Most just asked me to bring them copies of the photos. I said I would try to do that. I would love to write about all of the wards and everything I witnessed, but that will have to happen at a later time. I’m still trying to process what I saw. I don’t know that I will ever fully be able to process it, but I will try. For their sakes, I will try.

I think I have come to realization that I have no idea what life is like here. I have seen a small portion of the sick and hurting, but those are only the ones who make it to this hospital. What about those who can’t get here for medical treatment? And in all honesty, part of me wants to see it as just the way life is here. Its easier to think of it that way. But a bigger part of me won’t allow it. One and a half year olds who barely weigh over 15 pounds is not life. That is horrible. And it just gets to me, because it seems like American lives are valued more than these precious ones here. It rips me up to think that way, and then to realize that maybe these beautiful Ugandan people would think that to be the case as well.