The other day a few of the girls and I spent the day in Limilunga, at an infant feeding clinic. Despite the many heartbreaking and tear-jerking things we have witnessed so far in our trip, nothing prepared me for what I saw that day. A dad came in with his two children, a boy, about 3 or 4, and a baby girl around 1 year. As he spoke with the nurses about getting food for his youngest, his story started to come together, causing me to force back tears as we sat in the tiny office. The man’s wife had died 2 days prior, and he no longer had the means to support his daughter. While he told us of his hardships, he never once made eye contact with us; instead he focused on his two children, especially the baby girl who sat happily on her father’s knee. The man explained that without his wife, he could not care for his daughter and that he would have to take her to an orphanage in order for him to care for himself and his son. While he told us this, he continued to look at his daughter, but his face changed from loving-father to the most heartbroken and devastated man I have ever seen. The decision to give up his daughter was, I’m sure, the hardest decision he will ever have to make. His decision made me realize that he was the strongest person I have ever met.
I wish this man could know how amazing he is, for giving up his daughter so that she can lead a better life; one where she won’t be struggling day to day for food or clean water. And that because of his decision, his daughter will have the opportunity to go to school, something that may not have happened if he had tried to support both children. I can’t imagine the pain of having to choose one child over another, and I pray that the father will one day have the means to return to the orphanage and take his daughter home to reunite their family.
I would like to close with a big thank you to all the parents (especially the dads-that’s you Chris Malloy!) for all of the sacrifices you have made for us, and for the constant support you have given us. We love you all.
All my love to everyone back home,
Alexandra Malloy
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Pediatric nursing
I love kids.
There is something about the simplicity of life, the joy in play, and the innocent imagination of children that wraps me up and melts my heart. The children here are gorgeous and have my heart hopelessly trapped in their little fingers. As I bike the half an hour or so ride to Lewanika hospital I pass throngs of children calling out in their sweet high pitched voices "Makua!Makua!!! How are you?" They jump up and down in just barely contained excitement and collapse into giggles when I respond "I'm fine, how are you?", to which they respond "I'm fine, how are you"; this goes back and forth about 3 times. The little toddlers peek out from behind their older siblings back with big eyes, while nearby children come running when they see that I have stopped to say hello. When
I pull out my stickers I have about 20 children clamoring for one, which they proudly display on their foreheads. Sometimes, if I have enough time I'll pick up the older ones and twirl them around. The younger kids get over their fear and cling to my legs until I have one child hanging off every limb. I am getting STRONG!
At the hospital I am in both a piece of heaven and a personal hell. Strong words, I know, but I can't describe in words how helpless you feel when you gaze on a skin-and-bones baby that is struggling for every hard breath and passes away from malnutrition, knowing that another child will, if the last 3 week trend continues, pass away tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. And still, work goes on. You have to pull yourself together because the other 30 children need you, the families need you, and if you wallow in grief nothing would ever get done.
And so, Alexandra and I COVER childrens faces in sparkley animal stickers, blow up balloons and toss them around, sit on childrens cots and teach them how to make animals out of plastercine. Babies that have never seen a white person before cry at the sight of us, but we win their hearts over with blowing bubble after bubble after bubble. We hand out colored paper and crayons to the terribly bored children with their limbs immobilized in traction. When the hord of 8 nurses/doctor/students clad in white do rounds, Alex and I sometimes stand behind them and make funny faces at the overwhelmed child. Already some of them have learned to stick their tongue at the doctor! My favourite is greeting the children by waggling my eyebrows at them, and now they do the same back to me every time I see them.
I wish I could post pictures of some of the children. There's the little girl who dances with us/ The boy with his whole face burned after falling into a pot of scalding water-who can't see because his eyes are swollen shut but who delights in stroking the teddy bear I gave him-the first toy he has ever been able to call his own. There's the 13 year old who can't walk because a disease has attacked the bones of all 4 limbs, but loves having me sit with him and learning secret handshakes. There's the baby girl with a head the size of a watermelon from encaphalits, but smiles the sweetest smile when I stop to play peek-a-boo. There is the 12 year old girl who is so hard to look at as half her face is burned off, but who I tickle and hug to let her know that she is still loveable. I don't know the words to say this in her tribal language, but I think my touch communicates this-her laugh lets me know that I am loved as well.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking how hard it is to work here, catch myself getting homesick for the supplies and nursing ratio and policies of KGH. It's hard to smell stale urine every day, knowing there are not enough clean sheets to go around, to see bugs crawling on the walls, to not have pain medication ordered or available to children in agony. But then there are nurses who step in and clean along with us, doctors who have shown me how to palpate splenomegaly without needing to use an ultrasound. People are so resourceful around here and I am embarrassed at how much I waste back at home. I am learning so much here. My heart gets bruised at times, but it is growing and able to love more than I ever have before. And at the end of the day when my shift is over, I find myself wanting to go back to the pediatric ward and hang out with the children. Sometimes I do!
~Hannah Viejou
There is something about the simplicity of life, the joy in play, and the innocent imagination of children that wraps me up and melts my heart. The children here are gorgeous and have my heart hopelessly trapped in their little fingers. As I bike the half an hour or so ride to Lewanika hospital I pass throngs of children calling out in their sweet high pitched voices "Makua!Makua!!! How are you?" They jump up and down in just barely contained excitement and collapse into giggles when I respond "I'm fine, how are you?", to which they respond "I'm fine, how are you"; this goes back and forth about 3 times. The little toddlers peek out from behind their older siblings back with big eyes, while nearby children come running when they see that I have stopped to say hello. When
I pull out my stickers I have about 20 children clamoring for one, which they proudly display on their foreheads. Sometimes, if I have enough time I'll pick up the older ones and twirl them around. The younger kids get over their fear and cling to my legs until I have one child hanging off every limb. I am getting STRONG!
At the hospital I am in both a piece of heaven and a personal hell. Strong words, I know, but I can't describe in words how helpless you feel when you gaze on a skin-and-bones baby that is struggling for every hard breath and passes away from malnutrition, knowing that another child will, if the last 3 week trend continues, pass away tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. And still, work goes on. You have to pull yourself together because the other 30 children need you, the families need you, and if you wallow in grief nothing would ever get done.
And so, Alexandra and I COVER childrens faces in sparkley animal stickers, blow up balloons and toss them around, sit on childrens cots and teach them how to make animals out of plastercine. Babies that have never seen a white person before cry at the sight of us, but we win their hearts over with blowing bubble after bubble after bubble. We hand out colored paper and crayons to the terribly bored children with their limbs immobilized in traction. When the hord of 8 nurses/doctor/students clad in white do rounds, Alex and I sometimes stand behind them and make funny faces at the overwhelmed child. Already some of them have learned to stick their tongue at the doctor! My favourite is greeting the children by waggling my eyebrows at them, and now they do the same back to me every time I see them.
I wish I could post pictures of some of the children. There's the little girl who dances with us/ The boy with his whole face burned after falling into a pot of scalding water-who can't see because his eyes are swollen shut but who delights in stroking the teddy bear I gave him-the first toy he has ever been able to call his own. There's the 13 year old who can't walk because a disease has attacked the bones of all 4 limbs, but loves having me sit with him and learning secret handshakes. There's the baby girl with a head the size of a watermelon from encaphalits, but smiles the sweetest smile when I stop to play peek-a-boo. There is the 12 year old girl who is so hard to look at as half her face is burned off, but who I tickle and hug to let her know that she is still loveable. I don't know the words to say this in her tribal language, but I think my touch communicates this-her laugh lets me know that I am loved as well.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking how hard it is to work here, catch myself getting homesick for the supplies and nursing ratio and policies of KGH. It's hard to smell stale urine every day, knowing there are not enough clean sheets to go around, to see bugs crawling on the walls, to not have pain medication ordered or available to children in agony. But then there are nurses who step in and clean along with us, doctors who have shown me how to palpate splenomegaly without needing to use an ultrasound. People are so resourceful around here and I am embarrassed at how much I waste back at home. I am learning so much here. My heart gets bruised at times, but it is growing and able to love more than I ever have before. And at the end of the day when my shift is over, I find myself wanting to go back to the pediatric ward and hang out with the children. Sometimes I do!
~Hannah Viejou
Birthday in Zambia
Last Monday was an extremely special day as I celebrated my 22nd birthday with an amazing bunch of girls. After saying to the girls that I just wanted to have a low key night after such an adventurous safari, they all still surprised me anyways. Lynnelle, our master chef, somehow concocted a teriyaki stirfry…my fav… with our limited resources as the market is not stocked until Tuesday or Wednesday. It was a challenge I say with the power going out in the beginning every few minutes. We had a few scares but it always came back on. Our back up plan was to use the propane stove which we set by the open door while keeping the propane tank outside. As she cooked in the kitchen I got to be in charge of the IPod and played all my favourite songs. We danced and singed and just had a great time. All the while I was in the kitchen some of the other girls decorated the dining area. With a lovely construction paper place mat and crown I was set at the head of the table. On the light fixtures they hung balloons and when they ran out they blew up medical gloves. It was definitely a nurse’s bday.
I guess my biggest surprise came when Jessana came in saying “who is your best friend?” with a bag of flour in her arms. She was met with puzzled stares from everyone in the kitchen. Apparently the girls wanted to surprise me with FLOWERS but with shotty cell service and the message being passed between four people I ended up with some lovely white flour with flowers drawn on with a sharpie. It was quite priceless.
Fay, Mary and Jessica all joined us for dinner as we devoured Lynnelle’s cooking. And for dessert the girls also managed to get the icecream home before melting which was quite a miracle. All in all it was a fabulous evening as we ended off the evening watching another episode of glee.
Thanks everyone!
Gabby
I guess my biggest surprise came when Jessana came in saying “who is your best friend?” with a bag of flour in her arms. She was met with puzzled stares from everyone in the kitchen. Apparently the girls wanted to surprise me with FLOWERS but with shotty cell service and the message being passed between four people I ended up with some lovely white flour with flowers drawn on with a sharpie. It was quite priceless.
Fay, Mary and Jessica all joined us for dinner as we devoured Lynnelle’s cooking. And for dessert the girls also managed to get the icecream home before melting which was quite a miracle. All in all it was a fabulous evening as we ended off the evening watching another episode of glee.
Thanks everyone!
Gabby
The other side of the river:
"We've reached the Zambezi," my friend Tibour tells me over the loud hum of the boat engine behind us. I emerge from under my pile of protective clothing that I have draped over me to keep me from burning in the intense sun to take in the view. Miranda and I are on our way to Kalabo on the other side of the Zambezi to help Lihanna, a nurse from South Africa living in Mongu, start up a feeding program there for malnourished children. I wish I could post a picture to give an idea of what the flood plains look like, but even then it wouldn't do it justice. In every direction that I look all I can see is water, grass and sky. On the two hour boat ride that it took to get to Kalabo, only five minutes was spent on the Zambezi River. The rest of the time the boat navigated through the tall grass on watery roads that had been cut by the boats. It was beautiful.
Our time in Kalabo was short but we managed to do a lot. Our two full days that we spent there consisted of visiting the hospital, helping in an under five clinic, training volunteers to run the feeding program, launching the program and admitting the first 8 children and then visiting them in their homes. It was my first time actually going into a village and visiting people in their homes. Some families had cement houses, others had grass or mud houses. All the families that I visited took such good care of their homes and what little they had. Their house was clean, and yet their shelves were empty. One family that we visited had no source of income and so they ate only when they could find food. The baby that was on the feeding program was almost two years old and still unable to walk. His twin sister on the other hand was walking about the whole time we were at their house. It was heartbreaking to see, and yet we spent an hour laughing and talking under a tree outside their house. It always amazes me that I have found so much joy in the most bleak situations. I left that house feeling helpless, knowing that there was nothing that I could do to save them from their circumstance. We had given them a bag of powdered cow milk to feed the baby that was malnourished. At least we did something. I have learned to think more like the people here: do what you can with what you have, and pray for the rest. With the feeding program we trained the women that we had in the amount of time that we had, we took on the number of children that our supplies could feed, and we prayed that it would continue successfully.
-heather.
Our time in Kalabo was short but we managed to do a lot. Our two full days that we spent there consisted of visiting the hospital, helping in an under five clinic, training volunteers to run the feeding program, launching the program and admitting the first 8 children and then visiting them in their homes. It was my first time actually going into a village and visiting people in their homes. Some families had cement houses, others had grass or mud houses. All the families that I visited took such good care of their homes and what little they had. Their house was clean, and yet their shelves were empty. One family that we visited had no source of income and so they ate only when they could find food. The baby that was on the feeding program was almost two years old and still unable to walk. His twin sister on the other hand was walking about the whole time we were at their house. It was heartbreaking to see, and yet we spent an hour laughing and talking under a tree outside their house. It always amazes me that I have found so much joy in the most bleak situations. I left that house feeling helpless, knowing that there was nothing that I could do to save them from their circumstance. We had given them a bag of powdered cow milk to feed the baby that was malnourished. At least we did something. I have learned to think more like the people here: do what you can with what you have, and pray for the rest. With the feeding program we trained the women that we had in the amount of time that we had, we took on the number of children that our supplies could feed, and we prayed that it would continue successfully.
-heather.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
To Communicate Without Language
I've had some amazing experiences over the last couple of weeks and have worked with some fabulous professionals who do incredible things with the few resources they have. I'm learning a ton and while it's difficult at times, I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything in the world.
Last week I was out at Mutoya Camp. While there I got to help teach in the school: hand washing, teeth brushing and a little bit of music. The children are adorable and were definitely a highlight of my week. I got to help with a feeding clinic for malnourished infants and todlers which meant that I got to teach the moms about why babies cry and play peek-a-boo/make faces with the little ones. I also had the opportunity to do home visits. It was great to see everyday life and what it looks like here, I was also a little spoiled.
While at the camp I worked with individuals who could translate from Lozi to English for me so I was able to ask health questions, to teach and to connect. This week has been a lot more difficult. This week I'm in the ART (Anti-Retroviral Therapy) clinic, an area of the hospital that is packed starting at 08h00 every weekday. Everyone starts with their vitals being taken before continuing on for assessments, blood work, consults and medications for the coming days. I started off doing vitals. I've been taking vitals since first year, so the skill itself wasn't difficult, but it was difficult not understanding what my patients were telling me when I said "good morning" and they went into a big monologue. It was difficult wanting to connect with people and not really knowing how. It was difficult to be missing the stories and the art of nursing which I love, and having to find new and different ways to connect. Not only am I learning a lot about a disease I've rarely seen before now, but I'm learning to transcend an incredibly large language barrier. Recent cab rides and waiting for friends have turned into meeting new friends and having Lozi lessons. Eventually I hope to be able to say more than "Netewmezi" and "Mosile shwani."
Jess W
Last week I was out at Mutoya Camp. While there I got to help teach in the school: hand washing, teeth brushing and a little bit of music. The children are adorable and were definitely a highlight of my week. I got to help with a feeding clinic for malnourished infants and todlers which meant that I got to teach the moms about why babies cry and play peek-a-boo/make faces with the little ones. I also had the opportunity to do home visits. It was great to see everyday life and what it looks like here, I was also a little spoiled.
While at the camp I worked with individuals who could translate from Lozi to English for me so I was able to ask health questions, to teach and to connect. This week has been a lot more difficult. This week I'm in the ART (Anti-Retroviral Therapy) clinic, an area of the hospital that is packed starting at 08h00 every weekday. Everyone starts with their vitals being taken before continuing on for assessments, blood work, consults and medications for the coming days. I started off doing vitals. I've been taking vitals since first year, so the skill itself wasn't difficult, but it was difficult not understanding what my patients were telling me when I said "good morning" and they went into a big monologue. It was difficult wanting to connect with people and not really knowing how. It was difficult to be missing the stories and the art of nursing which I love, and having to find new and different ways to connect. Not only am I learning a lot about a disease I've rarely seen before now, but I'm learning to transcend an incredibly large language barrier. Recent cab rides and waiting for friends have turned into meeting new friends and having Lozi lessons. Eventually I hope to be able to say more than "Netewmezi" and "Mosile shwani."
Jess W
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Safari Weekend
This past weekend we got to go to a Safari resort in Kafue National park...which is about the size of Switzerland! The lodge we stayed at is not well known by tourists, so we almost had the whole place to ourselves. Unfortunately we had to take a 6 hour ride in a mini bus to get there (we were so squished in there, our shoulders were overlapping). Well worth the trip though! The resort was on the edge of the Kafue river and we went on a sunset boat ride as soon as we arrived there. We didn't get to see any alligators, but the sunset was phenomenal and there was a full moon that night too! All the outings included snacks and drinks, and the all-inclusive food served for breakfast/lunch/dinner was by far the best food I have tasted since I've been in Canada. We seriously stuffed our faces...there is really no fear of us losing weight on this trip lol.
Our accomidations were in separate huts near the lodge, but we had to be escorted to our rooms by guides after dark because wild animals often hangout nearby. The first night there I heard elephants trampling nearby in the middle of the night and heard growling (lion?) early in the morning. Oh and we met the hippo named Basil who hangs out in the lodge once in a while...somehow he believes it is part of his natural habitat? :)
I went on two drives the next day. The first was at 5:30 - 8:30am and we saw elephants, jackels, puku, antelope, multiple birds, buffalo, baboons, and wild dogs - which are super rare (only 3000 in the world, and only 300 in Zambia...and we saw a pack of 12!). One of the trails had Tsete flies (often spread Sleeping Sickness) swarming around us...to the point where I had to cover up so that only my face and hands were exposed because they bite hard! Lots of us got bit, but no one got sick!
On the second drive from 4:30 - 8:00pm we saw some of the same animals, but we also saw lots of zebra and even a cheetah - so exciting! In between the game drives I spent my time tanning by the pool...So it made for a very relaxing weekend!
~ Michelle
Our accomidations were in separate huts near the lodge, but we had to be escorted to our rooms by guides after dark because wild animals often hangout nearby. The first night there I heard elephants trampling nearby in the middle of the night and heard growling (lion?) early in the morning. Oh and we met the hippo named Basil who hangs out in the lodge once in a while...somehow he believes it is part of his natural habitat? :)
I went on two drives the next day. The first was at 5:30 - 8:30am and we saw elephants, jackels, puku, antelope, multiple birds, buffalo, baboons, and wild dogs - which are super rare (only 3000 in the world, and only 300 in Zambia...and we saw a pack of 12!). One of the trails had Tsete flies (often spread Sleeping Sickness) swarming around us...to the point where I had to cover up so that only my face and hands were exposed because they bite hard! Lots of us got bit, but no one got sick!
On the second drive from 4:30 - 8:00pm we saw some of the same animals, but we also saw lots of zebra and even a cheetah - so exciting! In between the game drives I spent my time tanning by the pool...So it made for a very relaxing weekend!
~ Michelle
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