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Published: July 22nd 2016
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The first week of work in Mbarara passed relatively quickly. After the excitement of the weekend in the southern part of the country, Monday morning seemed a little daunting. Yet since it was the first day of work here in the city, the usual dread of Monday was intertwined with excitement of the new and unknown. I spent my first week on labor and delivery; originally, I was meant to be there for three weeks, but my extra two weeks in the community detracted from that time. The delivery ward consists of antenatal, delivery, and postnatal wards; we spent the majority of our time in delivery, as that of course is the most exciting. In actuality, I only spent a day and a half total on the ward, the other days taken up with community activities organized in collaboration with the Veterinarians Without Borders. They are a group of four girls staying in a complex next to ours. More on that later…
The first morning we had two births, both routine. The women are strong, hardly making a noise throughout the process. Some do, as much from fear as pain, and often they are chastised for it. It’s all very
unceremonious; they are granted one attendant (mother, sister, etc) who generally stays outside for the delivery. I’ve never seen a woman deliver with someone to hold their hand or comfort them. Men are forbidden in the delivery room, though occasionally we see them at post natal (where women go to recover after birthing). Another major difference I noticed is that women here are required to bring all their own supplies; they literally go uncared for if they fail to do so. They are required to bring gloves, IV tubing, cotton gauze, a razor to cut the umbilicus cord, blankets and clothes to clean and swaddle, and a bucket for all the nastier things that go along with labor. It is frustrating when it is decided the woman needs fluids STAT, which means as rapidly as possible at home, but here means as quickly as the patient’s attendant can go to the store to buy the supplies. Another major difference is the minimal fetal and maternal monitoring and assessment that occurs. But, in the end, the baby comes. On Thursday, the next day I was in the clinic, the birthing was a little more complicated. One woman struggled for the whole
morning, until finally the baby’s head was released with the use of scissors and no anesthetics. Though the baby had a pulse, it failed to breathe. After five minutes of resuscitation the baby took breaths, and was whisked away to intensive care. We hope it fairs all right.
Some parts of birth are undeniably grotesque, but the itty-bitty baby that emerges is the most precious thing. My favorite part is handling the baby after the cord is cut; I love drying them and wrapping them, telling them “welcome” and that all will be well despite their sudden emergence into our bright, cold world. I’m in awe of the way their miniature fingers instinctively wrap around my big one, the hard confused blink of their small, dark eyes, and their scrunchy little faces. I feel an overwhelming desire to express my own maternal need, a feeling that is new to me. It’s a call I’m not sure whether to choke and drown out, or whether to welcome and embrace. Motherhood begins to call to me, and I don’t know how to respond. For the most part, I remind those primal hormones that mountain trekking for gorillas and rafting the rapids
of the Nile will be infinitely harder with a baby on my hip. Then the primal call falls silent. All in good time…
Tuesday we ventured to the village of Kahenda, where the Vets had organized an education day where we provided information about nutrition and cervical cancer, as well as providing basic examinations and assessments. We didn’t finish until 4:00, and though we saw many people we couldn’t manage to get to them all. Really, most of them had ailments that come with time and nature, and there is little to do for them. I think sometimes they believe we whites are miracle workers, with skills and medicine in abundance. Although we are far from any such thing, I think they still like to be heard and properly assessed. We do what we can, and it is always eye opening. After the work was over the villagers provided us a meal. It was a big spread of local foods; my favorite is always the beans. After stuffing ourselves, we headed back to Mbarara, all of us thirsty for a beer. One beer turned into many, and eventually Dayna, Joline, Montana and I found ourselves at the Vegas club
just down the street from us where we stayed for a few hours, despite how empty the bar was. We played some pool and danced for a while; I taught the girls the mechanisms of twerking. Being that I am so poorly endowed it’s a dance I am incapable of performing, and it was all very comical. It was fortunate we had the next day off, as I had a tiny little hangover that would have made work a little bit miserable.
On Thursday I learned the Vets had room to take two of us with them to the field for goat work on Friday. I was very excited and eager to spend a day with them, and it did not disappoint. We left at 8:30am and after a bit of a kerfuffle looking for a dropped oil cap, we got to work around 10:00. Ian, the vet student who is part of our internship, showed Tenielle and I the ropes and before long I was wrangling, vaccinating, and assessing goats. I loved every minute of it! I enjoy work that gets my hands dirty, it’s fulfilling somehow. And I love animals, so anything to do with them is
great. It’s the kind of work that reminds me of cleaning geese, or planting trees, or baking bread. The kind of work that makes a cold beer extra delicious; I can’t really put my finger on what it is. At any rate, it was an incredibly fun and unique experience. If nursing doesn’t pan out, maybe a career as a vet tech!
Friday night found me in bed early, exhausted from the long day of work in the sun. I decided to join some of the kids on a trip to Rugazi to visit the King Fisher Lodge to enjoy the pool. We had a fun filled day in the sun, and were so glad to see our Ugandan friends (Stevo, Ambrose, Remmy and Julius). We left the pool around 5:00, made it back to Mbarara just after 7:30, and had another quiet night, exhausted again from a day in the sun. I slept for nine hours straight that night. After a lazy Sunday morning, we headed to the market to stock up on produce for the week. It’s always difficult to know whether you are getting the fair price of not, but even if I do get “ripped”
Fun in the Sun
Remmy and Carrie off, it’s still pennies compared to what we pay at home. For example, 6 tomatoes, 2 giant avocados, 4 small mangoes, 4 carrots, and 0.5kg of beans each cost 1000 ush – about 30 cents Canadian. It’s wonderful to eat so much fresh, delicious food for so cheap, which frees more of my budget for Nile Specials!
I have no insights to share this week, other than that every day here holds some reminder to be grateful for the life I have in Canada. I will never underestimate the importance of hope and opportunity.
Four weeks lefts!
Thanks for reading, love to all,
Carrie Ann
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