Saturday, March 24, 2012

Kibogora Week One

Kibogora, Rwanda  24 March 12

Greetings from Kibogora, the site of Kibogora Hospital in SW Rwanda.  To view pictures and commentary from out group please go to:  teamrwanda2012.blogspot.com.

The trip:  We departed Mobile twice.  A short round trip to Satsuma was necessitated by a passport left behind--the owner shall remain nameless.   We arrived in Atlanta with time to spare and spent a considerable time getting our personal luggage and supplies checked.  The flight from Atlanta to Amsterdam, a little over 8 hours, departed at 18:00 EDT and arrived in Amsterdam at around 08:30 Sunday with only about 90 minutes of layover.  Security checks in Amsterdam are at the gate, necessitating a second pass through the gauntlet.  One traveler's otoscope drew attention because of its appearance similar to a gun.  That resolved, we boarded a KLM flight to Kigali, Rwanda, for nearly 8 more hours.

The Kigali airport, while able to accommodate an airbus, has a terminal only slightly bigger than our plane.  We passed through customs without incident.  None of our luggage was inspected, and none was lost in transit (minor miracle considering the volume and short layover.)  We were met at the airport by the Albertsons, who had arrived ahead of us, and the Finleys (included Will the 2+ year old who was kick). The Finleys are missionaries in Kigali, a city of approximately 1 million people and the capital of Rwanda.

 We spent the night at the Eden Motel in Kigali:  as Duane said, picture Eden AFTER the fall.  Beds were slightly softer than plywood, the water was undrinkable (everywhere in Rwanda without treatment/filtering), and the windows had no screens which meant a decision:  be uncomfortably hot or battle mosquitoes that might carry malaria.  We decided to be cool.

The next morning (Monday, the 19th) we had breakfast at the Eden--it was consistent with the bed quality, enough said.  Shortly  thereafter we boarded a 24 passenger bus for the trip.  The buses here are designed for passengers, not luggage, so we stored 30+ large bags in the back of the bus and crammed the sixteen of us into the front portion.  Kudo's to Jeanne Claude, the Congloese surgeon who joined us in Kigali, Lee Ann, our new friend from Montana (friend of the Albertson's), and others for sitting for 8 hours in a jump seat with no padding--the last two hours were on roads with no pavement and under construction, making for a very bumpy ride.

We stopped for lunch in Butare, a sit down affair with a cooked meal in a motel that catered to expatriates.  After that there was a roughly 5 hour test of bladder and bowel for the 17 occupants (driver also) until we arrived at Kibogora.    The test was exacerbated by the uneven pavement and the daredevil driver who must have a utilitarian view of human life.   On the trip we passed thousands of people walking the prepared paths along the main highway.  As the bus would approach, he would blow the horn if anyone dared to wander into his path, but rarely used his brakes.

At one point he rounded a curve in a one lane construction zone and came face to face with a Mercedes transport truck.  The two trucks, with brakes fully applied, stopped a few feet apart and all of our occupants exhaled, groaned, and then laughed with relief.  An argument ensued as to who should back up and we lost, so we backed up a bit, let him pass and we were own our way.  The buses here have very good brakes and very good suspensions.  Going at considerable speed they handle curves with minimal lean, even with a weight load that our baggage had added to its usual burden.  The cost of transporting 16 people and their luggage for 8 hours was 18000 Rwandan francs, or just 300 dollars.

We were greeted at the compound by several people whose first job was to escort all to "the facilities".  Afterwards we were assigned houses, unpacked, and collapsed into bed for the first decent chance at sleep since Friday night.  On that note, I should mention the great spirit that everyone exhibited throughout the trip in spite of considerable fatigue.

Tuesday:  We were escorted around the hospital and oriented by Edi, a nurse from Germany who has just returned here to work, having spent 2004-2007 here, and Kari a medical student from Albert Einstein in N.Y. City, who took a 4th year sabbatical to work on an OB project for one of her faculty in N.Y.  Kibogora Hospital is built on the side of a hill and has three main levels, the highest being the main entrance and then down to the other two sets of buildings.  At full capacity it is said to hold 260 patients.  Pediatrics is housed at the bottom, which is somewhat symbolic, I think, of how the child is viewed in the culture.

Wednesday:  We broke up into teams and began seeing patients.  In our group were Britni Bradshaw, Liz Donahue, Caroline Bryars, Micki, my wife, and me.  Our M.D. host is Dr. Ngoy, a Congolese generalist, who is currently assigned to pediatrics for his day responsibilities.  We began in the "neonatology unit",  a room approximately 10 by 14 in which 5 incubators, 5 cribs are housed along with the mothers of any babies housed there.   While the temperature here is quite pleasant, the neonatology unit is akin to a sauna, with the only moving air coming through old style windows that open horizontally with cranking (jolis?).  Infants are bundled in heavy sweaters and blankets with no monitors, so visual inspection is impossible without entering the incubator.  There are no monitors--if an infant has an apneic event, he/she is on their own.  There are no pumps--intravenous fluids are dripped in with the attendant variations in delivery that arm position produce.  For that reason, every effort is made to get I.V.'s out quickly.

We rounded in neonatology and then in pediatrics with Dr. Ngoy.  He has a broad base of knowledge for a generalist so young (around 32 y.o.).  On the first day alone we were introduced to cerebral malaria, a severe gastric outlet obstruction, pneumonia, sickle cell disease, and a myriad of other disorders.  When not being seen the children generally play outside, watched by their moms, their family wash hung on the clotheslines beside the building.  Our group got to interact both medically and socially as the children love to have their picture taken and to be hugged.  If you smile at them, they almost always smile in return, but the moms and children are wary until they see your expression.

The tendency in medicine is to treat diseases, not people.  I mention the diseases above but not the people--they are gentle, cautiously friendly, and cooperative.  The children are quiet while we round and are amazingly cooperative with exams, in general. A great ice breaker was taking pictures with the various smart phones and showing them to the children and moms.  This always illicits a smile and helps to break the ice.  In both the neo unit and the wards we asked to pray on several occasions and were never refused--in fact on two occasions we were called to another bedside as a result of the first prayer being asked to pray again.

Thursday and Friday were similar to Wednesday except that our U.S. team began to see most of the neonatology patients and were more involved in the pediatric wards.  Our little team had one crisis on Friday when a 5 month old child was noted to have extreme respiratory distress, having presented with the mother's complaint of abdominal pain for 2 months.  The infant's saturations were dangerously low, so Dr. Ngoy put her on oxygen (the only oxygen available is an 02 generator).  We became increasingly convinced that she had a congenital heart problem, probably a Tetrology of Fallot, and doubted she would survive.  Caroline, a high school senior who plans to follow in her mother's footsteps as a nurse, lead a prayer for her.  We were all pretty shaken to leave her, knowing she might not be alive when we came back in the afternoon.  The hope I had was that she was having a "Tet spell" and that if she resolved it, she would improve.  We returned about two hours later and she was breathing quietly and breastfeeding without distress--an answer to Caroline's prayer.  Sadly, unless she can get to a location that does CV surgery, she will probably not survive the next few weeks or months.  That kind of transport cost and surgery expense has to be borne by the family, and few have those resources.

Saturday:  Most of the team decided to go to a National Forest to see the monkeys there.  Micki and I decided not to go, and I made rounds in place of Dr. Ngoy in the neo unit because he was away at a mandatory meeting.  We also checked on the little girl with Tetralogy and she was doing well.

A comment on the first week:  Life here is a struggle, unlike anything we experience in America, though far less dramatic than in places such as Darfur.  Our compound night "guard" walks two hours to work 12 hours and then returns home, being paid 3 dollars per night, and that is about 3 times what he would make working in the fields picking crops of tea or other crops.  The people here live in a constant survival mode, heavily dependent on rain for crops.  Most carry water (50 gallon jugs) from a well at the bottom of the hill up to their abode as their only source of water.  Their fishing boats, which we see coming in each morning, their occupants singing, are made from logs, much as the early American Indian made their canoes.  The grounds of the compound are "mowed" by men using a small machete, cutting a 6 inch span of grass with each swing--we are talking over an acre of grass.  Lawn mowers are non-existent here.

 Life is day to day, sleep, work, eat, sleep.  The vast majority will rarely or never leave this general area, and if they do it will usually be on foot.  So, is their life less valuable than someone who lives in the U.S. or Europe or another developed country?--only if one judges the value of a life by its surroundings.   Instead, if we judge value of life by the relationships that each of us has with our family and friends, and especially with our God, we are all equally a part of God's human creation.

One of the cultural barriers that we have already seen here is the acceptance of death as a matter of course--that is both a healthy attitude (that many in the U.S. ignore/deny until the bitter end) and one that results in a diminished effort to sustain life if too much effort is required.  We would be naive' to think in a few short weeks we can change a culture of centuries, but we can relate, love, and temporarily relieve pain and suffering--and in the final analysis, those are truly the only real meaningful things we can do for each other, whether in medical care or in daily life.  We are not so different from these folks, and the things of real value transcend cultures and do not involve the luxuries and distractions of life--those things actually can either add to our lives or be hindrances but they will never be the core of our existence-that core is our relationship with our Lord and our fellow sufferers.

Please pray for our group and its mission:  for physical health (as we try to remember not to drink the shower water or wash out our toothbrush under the faucet); for emotional health, as we all miss home a bit; and for spiritual health and insight--that Jesus would lead us to our true mission here--to glorify the Father.



1 comment:

Dan Taylor said...

As I expected, you have given a wonderfully descriptive account of the trip to this point. I'm so pleased everyone is doing well.

Priscilla and I are praying for you and the team - for wisdom, compassion, safety, freedom from illness, and anything else you need to fulfill the mission God has given you for this trip. We are also praying it will be a life-changing experience.

At the end of your time there, you'll experience what many short-term missionaries experience: you'll be ready to go home, but something will compel you to want to stay!

You're doing a great thing, brother - I'm so proud of you!

Dan