Hospitals and Reality Checks

I had a lovely morning at the village. Lots of kids, chatting, de-stringing pumpkin leaves, chatting, de-kernalling maize, eating together, chatting :)

I had driven to the village cos my bike had 2 flat tyres that I couldn't be bothered fixing given the heat. I left to come home a bit after 12 and one of my friends caught a lift to take some of the food we had just prepared into the District hospital where her friend had been with her sick baby all week.

A kilometer down the road we came across a strange sight. 3 men pushing a bicycle with a cane chair strapped to the small rack on the back with 2 women following behind loaded with provisions. It took me a moment to see the woman slumped in the chair and realise this was an ambulance. I pulled over. Was she alive or dead? I tend to stop functioning around dead bodies and the RAV isn't exactly a great hearce substitute. At least the canopied ute's and Troop carrier (utilised here for friends funerals) have a bit of space between the body and the driver... I was already out of the car, greeting the ladies, opening all the doors and moving stuff out the way. The woman was alive- but very out of it. Malaria? I asked. yes. They all squished in. I closed all the doors, cranked the airconditioner and drove swiftly, breathing a quite prayer of thanks. She had a chance at survival now. They were 11 km from the hospital. It was 30degrees in the shade. If the woman hadn't died of cerebral malaria on the way there she probably would have died from dehydration.

10 min later we pulled up at the hospital. The front entrance was a puddle with bricks for stepping stones thanks to the heavy rains the last few days. We walked in and helped ourselves to a wheel chair into which the woman was unceremoniously manouvered, her feet still in the car. They pulled the chair back and I lunged to catch her legs. Too late. Thud onto the ground. She grimmaced with pain. No 'deluxe model' foot rests here. My last sight of her was slumped in the wheel chair being pushed through the puddle with one of the ladies walking awkwardly in front carrying her legs. It was de-humanising. I felt insulted at the system.

I parked the car and my friend and I continued on our original mission- visiting a sick baby. We quickly found the room, waded through the ladies and found a patch of floor to sit on. We then greeted everyone in the room and the chatter resumed while I held the sick baby who seemed to be on the mend. The crowdedness shocked me. There were about 2o women in the room and 10 babies - (mostly prems) that I could spot. The facilities were 3 steel cots, 2 bedside tables and 2 plastic covered matressess on the floor. The room was the size of a bedroom. I quietly asked my friend whether all these women slept here? 'no' she responded- just the ones with babies- the rest sleep in the kitchen. Again I felt insulted at the system.

In some ways, living here has really desensetised me to some aspects of poverty. It's a coping mechanism. But some days I just get incensed. A little kid that lives near the farm died this week from malnutrition - lack of protein. Her little body swelled up horribly.
I T 'S N O T R I G H T !!!!!
There is something terribly wrong when one third of the world live in almost obscene wealth, thinking it's our right?! Demanding not just the necessities of life, but comfort and entertainment and a new car or another tv
Meanwhile ....meanwhile the rest fight for survival. And fight they do.