Susu

I have to admit that I am glad it is Friday. This has been a busy, draining week for me. I wouldn't say that is a bad thing though. I learned a lot and got a lot accomplished and now I'm just tired. Nothing River #2 tomorrow can't help with. I was getting pretty down on myself this week. Patients seem to be being discharged but only a small few are being admitted. We are sending nine home tomorrow and that will give us only a handful of patients left. I was actually taking it personally at the beginning of the week, as random as that sounds. I see part of my job as being bringing the women in. Making sure they hear about us and know how to find help. Only being here a month I am still learning, yes, but I still felt like the low numbers were my fault. As the week went on and I spent one afternoon going around to the different radio stations and getting us slots for next week to go on air, I was starting to relax a bit. I felt like God was really starting to show me that: A. I am not here to do this alone and B. women will come, I just need to be patient. Another reason I was getting frustrated was because we had to cancel the screening trip that was going to go out this week because the screening car needed to be worked on...if anyone out there would like to donate a new vehicle for screening, please get in touch with me. :) There's my plug. The reason I say new is because the roads here are so bad and the places the screening trips need to go are even worse. You don't find many women in the cities. You need to go out into the small villages where the roads are, well...I'm going out on a trip in a week so I'll show you pictures when I get back. Anyway, canceling screening trips slows down the progress we make. I wrote about the advocacy program last week on here and as the women go home I truly believe they are going back and sharing their experiences here in hope of helping their friends. Even today I walked into the ward and there was a cluster of women talking with one of the nurses about a woman back in her village who is wet but she is so scared to come forward. They were all trying to tell this patient who knows the woman how she can go back and encouraging her to come out. The fistula women are the only ones who get one another. No one else can truly understand them.

Today we said goodbye to mama Finnah. This woman was so funny. She has been with us for a few weeks for surgery. She had her day of gladi gladi today and her 'pikin', daughter, came to pick her up today. I wish I had a picture of her hair but she always wrapped it up when a camera came out. She kept it braided in five neat rows. The top of the braids were black but between the braids it was silver. She is well along in her years. The longer she was here, the more silver came out. I finally asked her and yes, she dyes her hair.Her catheter came out a few days ago and she is dry! Whenever I see her she throws her hands up and says, "Tell God tenki!", and we do. Then she looks at me and says, "Shake yo body!", and we do. When she left today I cried. I cried, not because she was leaving, but I cried because of Mariama. Mariama is a seventeen year old patient. Finnah and Mariama both speak susu. Susu is not a dialect spoken by many in the Western Area of Sierra Leone. Finnah spoke susu, krio, and a few other dialects. Mariama only spoke susu. She was crying because the only person she could communicate with was leaving. Finnah went over to where she was sitting and wiped the tears off her face and put her arms around her. It was a great picture of the two of them and the bond they created in the short period of time they spent together.

Radio

Today I took a trip to Freetown. I always enjoy getting out especially when I can take a driver and not have to fight for a taxi or poda poda. Francis drove and Fatmata, one of the screening nurses, came with me. We were on a mission to get on the radio. First stop: SLBC. I have no idea what that stands for. Fatmata seemed to know everyone we met. One woman I was told was famous on the television in Freetown. I thought for a second if I should ask for her autograph but I held back. We found our way up three flights of stair to an office. We were talking with a man about doing a radio show to talk about fistula and get the word out about the AWC. We are scheduled for next Thursday for an "interactive show". I think that means people can call in and ask questions.

Next we hit Star Radio. I'm glad Fatmata was with me because there was no way I would go up to that place alone. We walked through a door which opened up into a small garbage dump then through another sketchy door and up some narrow stairs...good thing I trust my nurses. Star Radio already had a jingle done from before so we just paid for it to continue then got out of there.

Democracy Radio was our final stop. We will do another interactive session with them on Tuesday. I will go along as moral support but due to my lack of Krio I will not be speaking.

I hope the radio will bring in patients. Usually if you just walk outside you hear a radio blasting from somewhere. Sitting in a taxi, you can't get away from it. We are discharging our patients and not as many are coming in. I don't pray for more VVF patients but I pray that those who are wet and need help can find their way here.

Month One in Sierra Leone

Let me take a moment and reflect on the happenings of my first month in Sierra Leone...

• January 3rd I arrived. It’s not hard enough to just land and find your baggage in the midst of hundreds of people, but then having to get on a water taxi to get to the mainland. The adventure had only just begun...
• Was welcomed into an amazing group of people.
• Visited some of the most beautiful beaches around!
• Ate some of the greatest seafood!
• Was crammed and pushed and folded into poda podas and taxis.
• Sat in traffic...
• Sat in traffic...
• Sat in traffic...
• Met some amazing women with fistulas.
• Cried in front of my boss.
• Laughed.
• Stressed.
• Prayed.
• Sent away women in tears knowing where I was sending them was not where they wanted to go but knew there were no other options.
• Led my first staff meeting.
• Wanted a dog.
• Taught my first lecture on hyponatremia.
• Ate African food for lunch five days a week.
• Shook my tumba.
• Danced, and not just at gladi gladi.
• Watched season 1 of Bones.
• Got a job title.
• Questioned what I am doing here.
• Questioned why I ever questioned what I am doing here.
• Saw patients wet.
• Saw patients dry.
• Saw patients somewhere in between.
• Learned about #2 and #3 plugs.
• Slept under a mosquito net every night.
• Woke up at 0230 covered in mosquito bites.
• Breathed.
• Forgot to take my doxi for three days.
• Went to my first management meeting.
• E-mailed the girl in this job before me with tons of questions.
• Made some great friends.
• Took a shower for longer than two minutes in Africa.
• Ate haggis...twice.
• Learned to play carcassonne.
• Saw one monkey.
• Made my first roster.
• Fixed my first roster.
• Still fixing my first roster.
• Witnessed pure joy.
• Witnessed pure heartbrokenness.
• Ate my first lobster.
• Was woken up at 5am to be told there were no more diapers.
• Learning more and more what it really means to trust God.
• Walked into the ward and saw a patient standing directly in front of a large fan holding her shirt above her head.
• Watched an ultrasound.
• Saw brand new babies.
• Bonded with a nurse over scrubbing cabinets.
• Sweat.
• Got filthy from just siting in a car.
• Reunited with friends I had met on a ship last year.
• Joined two Bible studies.
• I think I may have quit one Bible study.
• Sat and talked with patients without using words.
• Heard awful screaming from the labor ward.
• Floated down a river into the ocean.
• Learned very small small krio.

And tomorrow I may be on the radio.

Two More...

The team house where most of us live. The bottom floor is where we eat together and the kitchen and laundry room. Soon we will have couches in there for a lounge as well.

I live on the second floor but I will be moving north in a couple weeks. There is a better view and a brighter room.

On the other side of the cement wall to the right, which you can't really see, is the maternity ward.

This would be why it takes so long to get anywhere. There is so much road construction and crazy drivers and unreliable cars which break down everywhere that to get anywhere is an all day ordeal.

One Photo

I've been trying to get pictures uploaded on her for the last few days. It took about ten minutes for this one. It's a start and I will try and do more later.

Here is a picture of a girl on the day of her gladi gladi surrounded by eight other patients awaiting their turn.

Burns Night

Who or what in the world is Burns night/Burns supper? I had never heard of this guy until a few days ago and tonight I had haggis for the first time, possibly the last. It's not that I didn't like it. It honestly didn't taste that bad but with every bite I had to consciously tell myself not to think about what I could possibly be eating. Jude, the manager of the clinic, is Scottish and she brought it back with her from her last trip home. It looked like a massive, massive sausage. When it was brought out it had to be walked around the table and we all stood in silence. Then Jude stabbed it with a dagger. Quite possibly the most random thing I have seen since arriving in Sierra Leone. After dinner Mikey read his poetry. Mikey isn't Scottish but I guess this is what you do at a Burns supper.

As random as this all was, this is something I really love about living in this sort of community. We all come from different places from around the globe and yet we all bring something so unique...and sometimes so strange. The funny thing is too, is that I was invited to another Burns supper/poetry reading tomorrow night. I'll have to let you know how that one goes...

Get Belly

There are two women on staff here who are trained to do advocacy teaching with the VVF women. I sat in on the first half of the day with them. Fourteen VVF women sitting in a circle talking, I felt like it was a support group, which it is in many ways. One thing I have noticed about Freetown is the large number of NGOs in the area. When you go out you can't help but pass numerous white land rovers will a different charity scribbled on the side. One of those charities is Health Poverty Action. To be honest I really don't know much about them but what I do know is that they have put together this great advocacy training program for the fistula women for when they return home. The women are taught how to advocate for other women they may find in the same situation they are in, leaking urine and alone. Not only are they taught what to do if they meet one of these women and where to send them, but they are taught what to do if they meet a woman who "get belly", is pregnant. If the woman is in labor and if they see the sun two times, one-night-two, and they still have not delivered, they must get them to a clinic or hospital where they have trained doctors.

While they were sitting in the circle, Florence had the women go around and say how long their labors lasted. I have heard these numbers before and see them daily as I enter them into the database in the computer, but to go around a circle and hear each woman say: two days, one day, three days, seven days, two days, four days, six days, ten days, three days, one day, seven days, four days, three days, two days... makes it so real. When she asked one woman how far it is from her home to the nearest health clinic of any sort, thirty miles was the answer. For most of us thirty miles isn't anything. That's a drive into Tacoma from Vaughn. Into Spokane from Coeur d' Alene. Imagine not having a car though. There is no way. And if you are in active labor...

After the training the women are given a book about Fata. It is written in simple language so some of the women can read it if they have had any schooling. Fata becomes pregnant and gets a fistula. It tells her story and it tells what needs to happen next and what could be done about it. The women can use it as a tool when they get back to their villages to help prevent fistulas.

This evening I was walking through the ward and I heard someone reading, slowly, but trying, and it was Mariama. Mariama is sixteen and only got her fistula two months ago so it is too early for her to have surgery yet. She will be with us until it is time though. She needs to be "built up" so she will be better physically for surgery. Vitamins, ensure and three meals a day will help with that. I sat with her outside for a bit this evening. I was trying to hear her story but the nurses who were translating for me got busy. I had her open her book on Fata and read instead. She speaks Mende and small small Krio but she knows her alphabet. She is slow reading but not bad. If she got to a word she didn't know she would spell it without any problem and usually figure it out from there. Such a beautiful girl. I'm sure I'll share more about her later.

Esther left today, the girl I wrote about two posts back. She wasn't able to sit in on the advocacy training so before she left I pleaded with her that if she heard of anyone with piss problems from obstructed labor to send them in. She said she would and I know she will. That girl is a strong one. So funny too. She was helping me with my Krio which is still non-existent. She is still wet but will be back in two weeks for a checkup. For now, it's back to school for her.