A Second Home

From Thursday (we're trying to catch up now that we have internet!!):

For the first time since we have arrived in Kenya, I slept pretty soundly through the night. I only woke up once around 3 AM when it had begun to storm around. I’m hoping by next week, I’ll be able to sleep a full night even with any combination of animal sounds, monsoons, or people pumping water before dawn. It’s troublesome getting up before the sun because really – what can you do? I am also developing a personal vendetta against the rooster outside who insists on crowing every 5-6 minutes starting at 4:37 AM and the geckos that sound like a broken beeper that doesn’t turn off.

We ate our breakfasts and had our morning disease presentation in the gazebo this morning. It was a little muggy and cloudy outside, but the temperature is still quite nice. The gazebo is actually more like a giant hut, replete with giant thatched roof, concrete floors, and mismatched furniture. We all huddle together around the table and eat our PB & banana sandwiches and drink chai.  A few people have brought some mini speakers so we tend to have music playing the background at times, which also kind of brings a little bit of the US to our African experience.

Clinic today was in a village called Masango. It was “near” in Africa terms, which means over one hour away. On the drive over, Masango seems to be a more developed and populated area than some of the other places we have been. There were lots of shops and gas stations along the way. The roads were generally well-paved and we saw lots of schools (with playgrounds!). Wherever we seem to go, people – 99% of the time hordes of children – come running out to wave at us and yell, “Muzungu!” (def: foreigner) or “How are you!” (not an actual question; usually said in lieu of hello). I feel as my arms will fall off, but I cannot in good conscience, willingly not wave back to a child.

When we arrived to our destination site, we were in one little building so many of us had to set up tables and chairs outside. Shortly after arriving, this wizened old lady named Judith came inside. She said hello to all of us as she clasped our hands individually and kissed them, thanking God and us for being there today. She is a tiny little lady with a huge smile and some missing teeth, but so much energy and sweetness. She brought out a drum and rounded up some children to sing a welcome song for us. Both she and Ann, one of our favorite translators, led the song. It was a wonderful opening to the day.

Kenyans are some of the most welcoming people I have encountered in the world. In many different cities and villages all over we have met people who have tried their hardest to make Kenya a second home to us, whether it was at the hotel outside of Nairobi or here at Icodei. They have gone out of their way to make our weeks here as comfortable as possible, whether it is cooking us meat, when meat is quite a luxury, or whether it is putting a light bulb in our room so that we can see in the dark.  Bishop Ruben and Mama Betty have truly become surrogate parents to us all!

As has been the case, surprisingly enough, we encountered lots of chronic diseases today, like reflux and angina. Lots of back pain. I remember taking a course in college where we read an article issued by WHO about the changing face of disease in developing countries – and how chronic diseases that we associate with the Western world are rising in incidence and even sometimes surpass classic tropical diseases. There are a lot of people who smoke and eat a lot more unhealthy foods (yay intercontinental trade), so a lot of what we are seeing are patients with problems very similar to what we see back in Louisiana. One patient of note that I saw today was a lady presenting with left sided burning and tingling pain that apparently started one year before when she had neck surgery. It seems like the surgeons must have injured a nerve at the time, but no one has seen or treated her pain. Unfortunately, we are limited with what medicines we have and had to give her the name of an affordable medicine that she could hopefully find at the local chemist (pharmacy). This is what seems to be the most frustrating aspect of this trip: knowing all the resources we have in the world to diagnose disease and the medicines to treat them, but then operating in a resource-scare area, with only my brain and stethoscope to try to figure it all out. That’s a battle in itself. 

- Monika Kumar