Crazy Women, Boiled Peanuts, and Marriage Proposals

Thursday, September 23

            The little boy with malaria came for his last infusion of quinine. After the drip was finished, his mother brought him out to the nurse’s station and asked me if I could watch him while she ran home. I nervously nodded my head in agreement. As soon as she stepped out of the hospital, he began bawling. I picked him up in an effort to comfort him, and discovered that his whole backside was soaked! I tried to shift him around so I wouldn’t get too wet, only to discover that aside from his shoes, there really wasn’t a dry place to hang onto. I set him down to walk around, hoping that would distract him, but nothing worked. Not even eating his cookies. When I tried to pick him up again, there was a giant string of saliva trailing from his mouth to his finger. I quickly set him down and whipped out my “in case of emergency only” toilet paper.  This definitely qualified as an emergency. I wiped him down, and then drug him with me to dispose of the well used paper. When his mother finally returned, I deposited the still screaming boy in her arms. She asked me if he’d been crying long. I let her know that, yes, he had been crying the whole time she’d be gone.

                On Monday a little boy came in with a fractured wrist. He was quite a handful! He didn’t want anything to do with the clinic at all. Outside he was just as happy as can be, but as soon as his dad brought him inside, he would start screaming and fighting. I couldn’t even keep his arm still long enough to get his pulse. However, when he came back on Thursday to get the cast put on, he was a totally different little boy. He munched silently on his biscuits the whole time we were putting on the plaster. Dr. Trixy was showing me how to do a cast, so the little boy had to sit there longer than usual, I’m sure. After I was done with the plaster part, Dr. Trixy told me to trim up the cotton sticking out on the ends. The scissors were well past their prime, and years of use had dulled their abilities. That coupled with my being left handed and unable to operate right handed equipment made it impossible for me to complete the job. Fortunately Helen was there, so she took over and lovingly coaxed a few more cuts out of the old scissors.

                The clinic’s final patient of the day was a woman who had an abscess on her right breast. Since she was going to have to be put under for the procedure, Trixy sent her over to the hospital so we could keep an eye on her after the fact. Lea and Trixy had both gone to the clinic to get supplies so I was alone when she came wailing up the ramp. As soon as I saw her I headed in to get a bed ready for her. When I came out she had plopped herself in a chair, and was holding her breast, sobbing. I kept trying to ask her if she wanted to go and lay down, but she was so loud she couldn’t hear me. She was making such a commotion that two guys from the clinic came up to see what was going on. Between the three of us we still couldn’t communicate to her that she should come inside.

When Lea came back, she ushered the woman inside. After Lea gave her a dose of Ketamine, she started getting very worried about the procedure. We waited for quite a while but she didn’t go to sleep. Trixy and Lea finally figured out that the dose they gave wasn’t enough, so Lea gave her a second dose. That was when things got interesting. She was still very worried and began talking very loudly, “You kill me!” She kept saying it over and over again, occasionally punctuated by snapping her fingers and clapping. We tried to reassure her that this was a simple procedure and she would be just fine in a few hours, but it didn’t really make a difference. She was getting more animated and sat up on the edge of the bed. “YOU KILL ME,” she screamed and slapped her hands on her chest. Suddenly, she stood on shaky legs and started running at Lea. As she ran her skirt started falling off, so with one hand she was holding her skirt and the other was held over her head in a threatening fist. Lea was ready for her and caught her wrists before she could do anything. Soon the patient seemed to forget what she was doing, and turned to back to her bed. She sat down on the edge and just stared at the floor. As soon as she flopped back onto the bed, we snapped into action. Lea and Trixy started draining the wound while I took her blood pressure. It seemed like the abscess was an endless fountain of puss- it just kept draining and draining and draining. When it finally quit draining Trixy flushed it with copious amounts of water, then packed and bandaged it.

Trixy had us read up on post- Ketamine care, so we would know what to expect when our patient woke up. Basically, it said that she would be just as bad coming out of it as she was going into it. The book was absolutely right. Cherilyn and I were visiting out on the breezeway when I heard her yelling. We tiptoed up to her door and timidly cracked it open. I opened the door just wide enough to peek around it and see what she was doing. She was sitting up, yelling and clapping again. Cherilyn and I looked at each other, wondering what to do. We walked up to her bed in the hopes that we could convince her that trying to get up would be a bad idea. It was no use; she was ready to get up. When she tried her legs, they wouldn’t hold her and she collapsed between the beds. I went and asked Lea what she thought we should do. She came, but there was really nothing we could do ‘til she woke up more. She would lie on the floor ‘til she mustered enough strength to sit up, then she would sit, clap a few times, yell at us, which would take all her strength and she would just flop back onto the floor. She repeated this several times, and every time I was braced for her to just crack her head on the floor. I was thinking to myself, “If she cracks her head open, we’re going to have to put her back under to sew her head up, and then it’s just going to be this same thing over again.” Thankfully she didn’t split her head open, and we weren’t stuck in a chronic loop of putting her under and patching her up. When she was finally able to stand, she teetered over to the corner where Cherilyn, Lea, and I were huddled. She was shouting at Lea, and asking her questions. Then when she got right up to us, she was totally silent. She just stared at us, one at a time. It was so creepy! Then without warning she took a handful of Cherilyn’s shirt and started pulling. To an onlooker, we would have been quite a humorous sight: Cherilyn trying to keep what was left of her shirt, our patient trying to gather more into her hands, Lea trying to pry the patient’s fingers off the shirt, and me holding onto the patient so she wouldn’t go toppling over. She eventually got tired of us and went back to sleep.

Sabbath, September 26

                I worked the day shift on Sabbath. We didn’t have any inpatients, so I was hoping for a quiet day.  When Christiane brought me the hospital keys, she also brought me the news that I had a patient waiting for me. My heart plummeted to my toes. I really had no idea how to consult a patient for anything besides an irritated eye. I took the keys from Christiane and began dragging my led feet up the ramp to the hospital. To my relieved surprise Christiane was right behind me. She took the girl into a room to do the consultation, while Cherilyn and I tackled the other three patients who had appeared out of nowhere. Cherilyn consulted two men with finger troubles.

A portly man elbowed his way up to the nurse’s station and informed us that he needed his bandages changed. Pronto! Cherilyn asked me if I could do that. “Sure.” I answered confidently. I took his bad of supplies into the nurse’s room and told him to go into the next room and wait for me. “A basic dressing change,” I thought to myself, “How hard could it be?” I was about to find out. I gathered everything I would need and headed to his room. I removed the old dressings, and discarded them.  “You’re going to get cotton, right? You’re using WAY too much iodine!” Unfortunately, I wasn’t taking care of your average Joe patient; I had drawn the one with chronic wounds, who had seen the bandage changed hundreds of times. “I’m going to a specialist. You know, I’m a sickle cell patient.” Finally he became so exasperated with teaching me how to change his dressing that he decided I was a hopeless case. “Go get the black sista, she know how to do this.” By this time, I too was getting frustrated. “No, she’s busy.” I told him. When I finally finished with his bandages, Cherilyn told him what he needed to pay for the service. He wouldn’t pay it. “Let me talk to the black sista. You charge too much!”  When Christiane finished with her patient, she came to help our little friend. He immediately began complaining to her about the bad job we’d done with his dressings and how much we were trying to overcharge him. Christiane inspected the bandages, and was satisfied with my job. She informed him that he would pay what we asked, and then asked him, “If you are so good at changing bandages, why do you still come to the hospital? Why don’t you just do it yourself?”

               

By the time all of our patients had left, I was frustrated, and close to tears. I felt like I had failed. When the patients came, Christiane and Cherilyn snapped into action- giving advice, taking temperatures, and doing assessments. While I, on the other hand, could hardly fudge my way through a bandage change, even with the help of the patient and another nurse giving suggestions. When I got back to my apartment, I had a good long talk with God. After pouring my heart out, I felt tired and fragile, but better.

Monday, September 28

Lea, one of the other nurses invited me over to see where she lived. She led me though a muddied car repair lot, up steep muddy roads, down slippery driveways, and across several courtyards before we arrived on her doorstep. It was a beautiful home, snuggled next to several other matching homes. While there, she showed me pictures from her ascent of Mount Cameroon. When I was getting ready to go she asked if I could find my way back to the clinic. The trip up there had seemed pretty easy, so I told her I would be fine. I slipped and slid out to the road and headed down the hill. At the first road that branched off, I realized that I hadn’t seen anything we walked by, instead I had been watching my feet so I wouldn’t slip and fall. I picked the road that seemed most likely to go to the main road, but after about 200 feet I decided that it was the wrong choice. I found the right road and headed down with a spring in my step and a smile on my face.

Tuesday, September 29

            I went out and bought honey as a special treat for us. It tastes more like molasses than like the honey we have in the states. But even if you don’t like molasses the label makes up for the taste.

The best choice, best quality

Highly Medicinal extra pure

Yadikwa Honey Helps For The Following

Example:

1.       Stomach Ulcers

2.       Weakness or General Fatigue

3.       Poison

4.       Fire or Boil water

5.       Weak Sexual Power

6.       Gastric

7.       Cough

8.       Malaria

Yadikwa Honey is the best!

Basically, anything that ails you, Yadikwa Honey will cure!

The highlight of our day was when Bill brought our fist packages from Union. Thank you everyone!

Friday, October 1

A little girl came in Thursday night with malaria. About midnight, Lea and I got up to start her second

Quinine drip. At about 2:30 A.M., Lea called me to come and help with baby Tressy again. Her fever was terribly high, so we gave her some PCM, to try to bring it down. About 3 A.M. Tressy’s mother laid down on the other bed and began shivering, she had malaria too. I went and got her a sheet to cover up with, and some coartem to battle the malaria. We stayed with them, checking temperatures, and giving meds until about 4:30. When we all got up at 6:30, Tressy’s mother was feeling much better, but Tressy was still feeling quite nasty.

Sabbath, October 2

        Thankfully, I was able to go to Church this Sabbath. I started out on my mile long trek shortly after nine, so market was in full swing when I passed through it. Maneuvering through all the taxis, ditches, people, and food is much easier on Tuesdays when I am not wearing heels and a long skirt.

               

                The singing at church is amazing! During song service everyone sings at the top of their lungs, and it is a beautiful sound. They are so loud that I know, no matter how loud I sing, no one will ever hear me, so I sing my heart out. After church we go around and shake everyone’s hand and then visit a bit before heading back down the hill. Two girls introduced themselves to me, and the pastor volunteered them to cook some real Cameroonian food for Cherilyn and me. I hope they do!

               

                After lunch we got a new patient. Her veins were extremely difficult to find, so after a few unsuccessful tries, Cherilyn asked me to come and try. I told her I’d try, but no promises. To myself I was thinking, “This poor patient, we’re going to poke her to death and still not have an IV in. If Cherilyn can’t get it, I’m probably not going to be able to either.” Trixy found a needle with a catheter for me to use. When she handed it to me, I had to play with it for a minute to even remember how to use it. I got a huge flashback on my first stick. YAY!

Sunday, October 3

            After restarting our patient’s IV twice, I went outside and visited with her sister, Seraphine. She tried to teach me some French, but after a few minutes of my horrible pronunciation, she gave up. She loves to eat boiled peanuts, so every time someone walked by selling them, she would buy them. She told Cherilyn and me that we are too skinny! She is going to fatten us up while we’re here, so our parents won’t even recognize us when we get home. So all day she fed me boiled peanuts. At first, they didn’t taste too bad, but the more I ate the worse they got. I was so relieved when we had finished our bag! A few hours later she waved down a little boy who was selling them. When I saw what she was buying I made myself scarce. I thought for sure I’d been gone long enough for them to have polished off the bag, but when I returned they handed me half a bag, telling me they’d saved them for me. Thank God for big scrub pockets, so I was able to sneak them away to Cherilyn, who loves them!

 Monday, October 4

            It was a little chilly when I was sitting out on the breezeway at the hospital. Tressy’s mom came out to talk with me for a few minutes. She shivered and asked how I was able to stay out in the cold so long. I told her that while it was a bit chilly here, it can get really cold where I live. She then asked, “You come from China, because you look very Chinese?”

Thursday, October 7

            I admitted a patient to the hospital with malaria. When she first came in there wasn’t a bed ready so I asked her to sit in the waiting area while I made one up. When I got back to her she was sprawled, face down on the floor. I tapped her on the shoulder and told her that her bed was ready and she could go lie down. I went to the nurse’s room to gather my supplies for her IV, and when I returned she was still in the same place, on the floor. I helped her up and to her room. Seeing her lying there reminded me of years ago, when one of my friends had a hypochondria attack out in the hall, and had to be carried back to her room.

                I was so excited when I got her IV started and all of her meds running. It was my first completely solo IV!

Tuesday, October 12

            Monday evening while we were eating our dinner, Trixy poked her head in the window to let me know that Cyril was planning to write me a love song. Cherilyn and I had a good laugh about it, but didn’t really give it anymore thought.

               

Since this was my week off I slept in too late to go to worship. When Cherilyn came back to our apartment she was laughing almost uncontrollably. “I have something for you!” She said. This is what she gave me:

From Cyril

Moriah I love you. Moriah the first time that I saw you, my heart was filled with joy and that small, lovely, gentle voice from our Father in Heaven said that this should be my life’s partner. This should be the person I can put my trust in. We can live together as a family, acquire wealth, have children and live happily. Moriah will you marry me? Will we live together and see our children’s children? Please accept. Let me fulfill God’s in our life. Moriah when will we get married? Moriah you are the most beautiful lady in the world. Moriah I am in love with you. Are you also in love with me?  

                If you were wondering, my name is underlined on purpose. He wrote the song, but didn’t know how to spell my name, so left blanks where it should go. Today when he came to deliver the note, he asked Cherilyn how to spell it, and then inserted it into the blanks.

               

After I knew Cyril was gone, I went to the market for our weekly shopping spree.  It’s getting to be more enjoyable now that I know the vendors that I buy from. One woman, when I walked by her shop, called me by name, came out and visited for a few minutes then gave me a hug before going back to work.

Wednesday, October 13

                I was just finishing my breakfast when Cherilyn came in and handed me my second love song from Cyril. I thought she was joking, but no, it was real. He was actually planning on singing this one to me, so I’m very glad that I didn’t make it to worship.

               

Cherilyn asked me to come up to the hospital and help her look for veins on our newest patient. It took us about 15 minutes, and two tries to find a vein that we could get an IV in, but Cherilyn got it.