In stitches

Well this week I feel like the hospital has become my second home. Monday I decided to visit the hospital as I’ve had an unhappy tummy for a few weeks and the antibiotics I had last month don’t seem to have cleared it up. I got to the hospital for 9am, being a Monday it was extremely busy, standing room only. After joining the huge queue to get my blood pressure and temperature taken, I sat reading my kindle for 2 hours. I eventually got to see a Dr and attempted to explain my symptoms, he didn’t understand when I said that I thought the bug was still in my system from the last time. So I tried to be more technical and say that the bacteria were still there ?

 I was then sent to the lab to have some blood taken and give a sample for analysis. Usual story, struggled to find a vein. Tried my left arm, then my right and eventually my right wrist where they managed a measly 2ml, enough to rule out Malaria. The other sample was more difficult as when you got to go, you got to go, but at that precise moment I didn’t need to go. Long story short, the toilet (yes they have got ONE at the hospital after all) was very clean and sample was given for analysis. Another 2 ½ hour wait and the results concluded that I have parasites in my tummy. Another hour wait to give the Dr the results and then on to dispensary, where they guy thought I was crazy as I’d clocked that I had been prescribed 4 lots of meds and he had only given me 3, after a long battle in broken English he found the 4th packet which turned out to be the most important of the lot !!

Tuesday saw my second and unfortunately third visit to the hospital this week. I offered to help out my fellow volunteer to run an ICT course in Jirapa for some teachers to learn the basics. After the course I was leaving the District office when my moto slipped on the sand and my left elbow helped me stop. Fortunately there were a few officers there to ‘clean me up’. This in itself was quite an ordeal, first was the gentle cleaning with the Kleenex and water then came a marvellous idea from another officer of pouring ‘spirit’ on the wound, I nearly shot through the roof and had to kerb any obscene language at this point. I got back on my moto and rode back to Nadowli where my housemate continued to help clean me up. It was then that I was able to look in the mirror to see for myself what damage I had done, I realised that the hole in my elbow was actually more than the graze I had first imagined. We decided a trip to the hospital to see if they actually do stitches was in order. Very kindly the Director sent her driver to pick us up.

On arriving at the hospital at about 4.30pm there was another long wait as there were no Drs or Nurses around. An assistant assured me she had asked for a Dr after I showed her my arm. Eventually two very nice ladies appeared and said that it needed sutures. Being the wuss that I am I had to ask if they would use local anaesthetic, seeing my face obviously a picture, the assistant replied we don’t use any. I was pleased to find out that they do use anaesthetic, so after the local had taken effect and she had SCRUBBED out the wound, the stitching began. Only the thread kept snapping, lots of attempts and copious amounts of their laughter later, I eventually had two stitches in place and the most useless dressing known to man. Come back in two days to have the dressing changed.  By the time I returned home the dressing had come off, so a few strips of micropore and Bob’s your uncle as they say. No, it came off again an hour later and to my horror one of the stitches had also come undone.

So another phone call to the Director, as it was now too dark to walk, the very kind driver arrived to take me back to the hospital at 8.30pm. This time I took the sterile kit I brought with me from England that has a suture needle and silk in. When we arrived the waiting room was empty and there was no-one around so we sat and waited. Eventually a guy came through a door my face lit up only to be told that the blood transfusion had finished, obviously I looked like a Dr with my huge bandage wrapped around my arm. After about ½ hour a young girl appeared to go and find my records, while she was gone I discovered they were still on the table where the Nurses had left them earlier in the evening, without any mention of my earlier visit recorded. Finally a guy appeared in blue scrubs and came and looked at my arm. It needed to be stitched again. He called for a nurse and I gave them my kit, they proceeded to stitch me up with their kit and again the thread broke so to my kit where he managed a stitch and then dropped the needle on the floor. Another stitch was needed, so back to their thread. I just hope it stays together this time. We’ll see when I go to get the dressing changed, I daren’t peel it off in case !!