The Real Africa

Again I apologize for the back blogging.

A week and a half ago, I had my first face to face encounter with someone with HIV, and it was a horrifying experience. I was on my first day of medical home based care, which I was already nervous about. The most medical training I've had is my mom's stories from the ICU. Another volunteer and I headed out along with two women as interpreters, and our trusty medical bag. We arrived at the girl's house (which was basically a shack) and there she was sitting on a tarp in the yard. When I saw her, I almost started crying. She was about 5'9" and 85 pounds, max. She was literally skin and bones, except for her feet. They were so swollen, it looked like she was wearing combat boots with toes.

We sat down next to her and took out her chart (a notebook that is split into two columns: problem and action). The chart explained that she had TB, and that she had been having diarrhea. Under the action column it kept saying "told her to go to the clinic". I asked her if she had ever gone and she said no. When I asked her why, she told me she had no money, and was to weak to walk the 3 blocks. She also told me how hungry she was and that her mom gave her very little food, and would not give her a mosquito net. When I confronted the mom, she informed me that there was no money for food or mosquito nets. I gave the mom a bag of maize, which is basically like corn meal, but after that we didn't know what to do. So finally, I was like, "Fuck it, I am calling a cab and we will take her to the clinic ourselves". Obviously, she was never going to go and if the two of us went with her, she would probably get helped quicker.
The cab came, and it took both me and the other volunteer to get her up and into the car. The mom wanted to stay home, but we told her that she had to come or I would take the maize away. Now, I know that sounds harsh, but this woman did not seem concerned in the slightest that her daughter looked like she was going to die any minute. She didn't have any other children to take care of , and no one else was home. She just didn't want to go. Finally, she got into the cab and we left.

We arrived at the clinic and it was insanely crowded. Now when I use the word "clinic", I use it very loosely. There are no doctors, just nurses and a clinical advisor. There is dirt everywhere, cockroaches everywhere, and there was a faint smell of vomit. We found a nurse and told her we needed a clinical advisor. it took a few minutes, but we were finally aloud to see him. He ran a couple of tests on her and told us that not only did she have TB, but she was HIV Positive, and the swelling in her feet was a result of a malignant cancer. Basically, she was dying and that she had to go to the hospital so that they could make her more comfortable. I had to put my sun glasses on because I started crying.

They told us to put her into a bed until the ambulance arrived. Again, it took both me and the other volunteer to move her from the adviser's desk to the bed. When I pulled back the sheets to get her into the cot, I found a dirty scalpel blade lying right next to her feet. I seriously started gagging. I thought I was going to throw up right there next to the bed. We got rid of it, and got her situated in bed. We told the mother we were leaving, and to stay with her daughter. Se the told me that she did not want to wait anymore and that she was coming back with us. This is when I lost it. I started yelling at her, not caring if she could understand me or not. I told her that she was her mom and that she was responsible for her. That she couldn't just leave because she was tired and wanted to go home.

I finally got back to the house and had a severe melt down. Jamie and Gemma, my project managers comforted me, and told me that I did the right thing. Overall, it was a very tough day, but one where I think I made a difference. Not all days are like that though. Sometimes I go to the clinic and have a great time. I meet some really great people, and some adorable kids.

Check out this picture: