This is a new one: We started today with two circumcisions.
Never thought those words would come out of my mouth, but that’s what happened.
Two motorcycles picked us up at the house around 8:30, and we piled on three to a bike. About 8km of dirt roads later, we were at the village clinic and Evans, the Clinical Officer in Charge (similar to a PA) was waiting for us.
It was day two for us at the clinic, so the basic orientation process was already completed. Two wide-eyed boys wearing shorts and flip flops, one eight and one six, sat with their father outside the “injection room.”
I’ll spare you the details, but the eldest bravely went first. When it was all over, he still hadn’t shed a tear. What a brave kid! He gave a smile to his little brother a look only a older sibling can give – that “I did it and didn’t cry – now it’s YOUR turn” stare. The younger boy was just as brave.
Evans had Emily and I give the boys their requisite tetanus shots. It was the first injection I’ve ever given.
Evans then taught us how to give other kinds of injections, and we spent the next two hours giving patients injections of quinine (for malaria) and antibiotics for various infections.
Meanwhile, a four year old in the next room went into febrile convulsions. We learned how to handle those, talked about possible causes, and waited for the convulsions to subside.
Shortly after 2:30pm a woman who had been in labor since 9am that morning was due for another exam. We were told we could observe the delivery, and I was quite excited. In the delivery room, there was a basic green hospital bed that had no sheets, pillows or blankets. The room had a light socket but no light bulb. An orange bucket sat under the bed, and an IV rack sat beside it – still holding the previous patient’s IV bag. On the other side of the room was an old crib – lined with a piece of torn packing foam. An old baby scale sat in the corner under a heat lamp that didn’t work. Nothing in the room required electricity. There were no towels, no nurses, nothing.
The woman came in alone, and looked confused as to what three Americans were doing there. We smiled at her, and she didn’t seem to mind our presence. She climbed up onto the bare mattress and lay down. Evans checked her out (she was dilated to 8cm) then looked at us and asked who was going to “be the midwife,” and Emily and Dami both pointed at me.
Evans didn’t say too much too her, and he didn’t really react when her contractions began to get severe. He told me to put on a pair of gloves, and the delivery began. He stood by to offer guidance and direction, but I was amazed by how much het let me handle it. The only time her really stepped in was when we realized that the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. Evans jumped into action, unwound the cord, and then stepped back. When the baby came out, she landed in my arms. It was a beautiful baby girl.
We had nothing to wrap her in, so I held her for a moment and waited for her to cry. She did. A nurse came in with a large scarf, and I wrapped her in that. The nurse smiled at me and told me to “finish the job.” I cleaned her up a bit, and patted her back until she coughed. A friend of the mother’s appeared in the room with another piece of fabric, and I handed the baby girl to her.
I’m still so overwhelmed I hardly know what to say.
I absolutely loved it.
Despite no electricity, light only from the room’s window, no sheets or towels or blankets…it worked.
The room was a mess, and I looked a mess, but it was wonderful.
What a way to end a “work” day. I’m exhausted and emotionally drained but I can’t wait to go back to the clinic tomorrow for more! Strange, I know.
Now’s it’s just after 9pm and I could fall asleep.
It’s a clear night, and on our way back to the house we’re staying in, we saw the most spectacular night sky we’ve seen since we’ve been here.
I didn’t recognize a thing, and it felt wonderful.
Sounds like a fantastic day, one of those days you'll look back on years from now and remember as one of the best.
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