From Mongu with love...

New Meaning of Exercise

I think everyone can agree that keeping an exercise routine can be difficult at times, especially while in Africa. I had a very hard time getting myself motivated to go for a run... How could anyone want to sweat more than they already do here,or risk getting more dehydrated? It may seem crazy but let me tell you, now that I have started, I do not plan to stop. I have never experienced anything more freeing in my life. Imagine a long stretch of road as far as the eye can see and the most beautiful sunset you have ever laid eyes on. Imagine families gathered on the side of the road cooking dinner while you stride past, or 30 school uniform clad children running with you and asking to be your friend. You feel safe, like you are a welcomed part of their community. Much like being surrounded by friends and family. Not to mention the ease of tension and stress released with each step you take, which is extremely welcomed after a long, emotion filled day at the hospital. It's almost like you are part of your very own Nike commercial....Nothing feels better than a Mongu run.

Nicole McComb <3 br="">

A good day for twins to be born!

  We had quite the experience on the maternity ward yesterday.  We had a first-time mother of twins on the antenatal ward who was admitted because she had been draining amniotic fluid for days.  We took her for an ultrasound to discover that she only had a small pocket of fluid remaining in the amniotic sac.  We recognized this as a major concern and alerted the doctor and nurses immediately.  To make matters worse, the ultrasound technician estimated the babies to be only 31.5 weeks gestation and around 1.5 kg each.  This worried us even more, as extrauterine life sustaining resources for premature babies are lacking here in Mongu.  We advocated for the patient and suggested that the babies be delivered as soon as possible.  The doctor agreed with us and we alerted the theater team to prepare for a c-section.  The young mother was very frightened, as surgeries have a high mortality rate here.  She was reluctant to go ahead with the procedure, but was finally convinced that it was the best option for both herself and her babies.  Recognizing that she was afraid, Megan asked if she believed in God and she nodded in agreement, asking if she would pray for her.  Megan held her had and said a prayer with her.  It was a very emotional moment for both of them.  

  We went into the operating room with our resuscitation equipment anticipating the worst outcome and prepared to intervene if necessary.  The babies were delivered quickly.  Nicole received the second twin, which was a very exciting moment for her.  Both babies were flat initially, but with some stimulation, suction, and a few puffs from the ambu bag we were able to get them breathing.  It was a very rewarding experience.  It was the first time we felt like we really made an impact.  

 We would like to thank UBCO and Ron Caldwell for donating the ambu bags that we used to save these precious lives.

Walking in Sand

Mongu is built on the edge of a huge flood plain; the flood plain leading to the great Zambezi River. It is built on sand and as we all are learning, it takes special skill and stamina to walk in sand. So does it take special skill and stamina to “be” in this special place, in the hospital and in the clinics. Like walking in sand it can be trying …( sand in shoes, slipping backwards, slogging along) ). Like walking in sand, it can tire, defeat and wear down the walker. Like walking in sand, it can build character and strength (strong muscles, determination, meeting the challenges, critically thinking, learning from watching the local sand walkers).

So I watch how everyone adapts to “walking in sand”; each making their way in their own unique style. Some are watchers of local sand walkers; some stride right in and struggle a bit and some ask to be accompanied by someone skilled in walking in sand. And so we all make our way.

The important thing is we all learn to practice our nursing art with compassion and grace. We all learn respect for our colleagues who do this every day. Nursing here relies on using your senses; your knowledge and your intuition. The nurses here work within a system that is chronically short of supplies and human resources. The technical and laboratory supports are basic…there are no code teams, no IV nurses; no wound specialists and the pay is low. But still, they welcome us and watch us and we learn from each other. As one nurse said, “you bring us hope”. What a gift to carry and what a great privilege to carry it!

So…with our colleagues as guides and our own stamina and determination and passion for our profession, we walk in sand, every day bringing new challenges and new rewards…we get stronger and more skilled as we walk and we gather supporters and colleagues and encourage each other.

You would all be proud of your Canadian sand walkers…they persevere with grace and caring, marking their trek with smiles and tears; carrying hope. From the place of sand and breath taking beauty of the flood plain, I say goodbye for now and tune in soon for more stories of walking in sand.

Fay Karp

Hakuna Matata!

What a wonderful day! The weekend has been a welcoming treat for us nursing students here in Zambia, and the weather is fantastic. We have had a very interesting week to say the least at the Lewanika general hospital. It is so hard to imagine that on the other side of the world things can be so different from home! The initial shock of the hospital and surroundings have started to wear off, and we are becoming more familiar and more comfortable with everything. I have learned so many things about the people in Mongu and the diseases and health issues that are common here such as malaria, HIV, TB, and many others. My passion is in the operating room, or the operating theatre as they call it here and I have had the opportunity to watch a surgery in my first week at Lewanika general. It has been an amazing experience so far regardless of whether it has been overwhelming, sad, exhausting, unbelievable, beautiful, fantastic, unique, and inspiring. A mix of emotions every day, but it keeps us on our toes and makes for a wonderful trip!

We have had the pleasure of meeting many wonderful people and have made new friends amongst the Zambians. We have had some unexpected visits at our guest home from a couple different Zambians girl, but they are all so kind and welcoming. This weekend we enjoyed exploring the town through the black market and the shops where we bought shetanges, it was tons of fun and then we wore our shetange wraps out to Club Extreme and Viva Africa for some dancing and entertainment. What a unique lifestyle they have here!

This week I will be working on the children's ward which I am very excited about. Another experience to learn from and another week of learning and understanding what it is like here in Mongu. Many more opportunities and experiences to come and lots of stories to tell!

-SB

HIV in Zambia

I started my first week at the Lewanika Hospital in Mongu by working at the HIV ART (antiretroviral therapy) clinic. When we first toured the hospital, I was astounded by the number of people that we saw at this clinic. After learning that Western Province has the highest rate of HIV in Zambia, and that this country has one of the highest rates in all of Africa, I knew that I wanted to get some first hand experience working with HIV patients. My first day at the clinic was easily one of the busiest shifts of my nursing career. I spent the day taking patients in and doing brief assessments on them. I easily saw at least 200 patients in 5 hours. The line up never seemed to end. We saw patients of all different backgrounds... kids as young as a few months old, to elderly patients, to people of various socioeconomic backgrounds and professions such as teachers and police officers. What I always thought was a disease that only affected those in lower socioeconomic areas I found holds no boundaries here in Zambia. My heart was with the little ones, those who are the most vulnerable who are affected by the illness. I had a conversation with a young adolescent girl about what she saw for herself in her life. She told me she wants to be a nurse some day. She had a warm smile and her eyes were full of optimism. A wall of sadness and hopelessness hit me at that moment because I knew that HIV may not allow her to live out that dream.

I have yet to have a patient with a positive HIV status in Canada. The difference between those living with HIV here and those back home is that those back home have privileges such as better access to healthcare professionals and consuming a more balanced diet. As well, opportunistic diseases don't take a toll on us as much as they do here. We saw many prisoners at the clinic, handcuffed to one another and dressed in their bright orange attire. Many of them appeared very ill. As Jessica described, the conditions at the prison in Mongu are deplorable, and with diseases such as tuberculosis running rampant throughout the prison, you wonder how someone with HIV has any chance of surviving in such conditions. The stigma here is also very apparent, even at the clinic. It was rare to hear any of the nurses or doctors use the term "HIV". They would often say things such as "patients on ART..." rather than "patients with HIV...". I also learned that some people here, especially those from a higher socioeconomic background, are less likely to visit the clinic or even disclose their status because of the stigma here. Word spreads like wildfire in Mongu, and for some people they would rather suffer with the disease than have everybody in the village know of their positive status.

The hardest part for me is working with patients and knowing how much potential they would have in Canada. Not only was this apparent at the HIV clinic, but also throughout the hospital. One can't help but think that if only they had a few more medical supplies here, or a bit more education around certain issues (such as how HIV can be prevented), then we wouldn't see as many people unnecessarily suffering or passing away here.

-Nicole S