Yasama.

"Yasama!" (open). 

Today was a shorter day. We saw 85 patients today and around 60 today. But I am very exhausted physically and emotionally.  My arms still feel like jello from having to restrain the last patient of the day who was 8 years old.  It took 7 adults to restrain her!!! 

The day started with breakfast and then heading over to the clinic to check the children in and take their photos.  I am in charge of taking their pictures :) I get them to smile and then show them what they look like. Their smile upon seeing the photo is bigger.  We print the photos and give them to the child after their appointment.  Each child is numbered 1 through whatever the last child in the order they stand in line.  Families wake up extremely early in order to walk all the way to Mildmay and get a good place in line.  We ask them if they are HIV positive, (which they all are), ask them if they are TB positive and if they are Malaria positive. 

The patient that stood out to me today was a little boy that came from hospice.  He was deaf, and in this environment with such low education, he doesn't even know how to communicate.  He would sit alone while the other children play.  I went up to him and tried to get him to play but he was so sick he did not have the drive.  During his procedure, I helped hold his arms and legs.  I just kept rubbing and squeezing his hands.  He would look up at me scared once they began, and i would nod my head "yes", and he calmed down.  Dr. Sally who was working on him explained to me why he did not cry that much or struggle because of how sick he was, he lost his will.  I instantly could not keep my tears back.  Poor boy... Deaf and doesn't know how to communicate and can not understand what is going on.  I helped him put on his new shoes we gave him, and even gave him a little foot massage.  Later that day I went outside to him and tried to play with him again.  He started motioning for me to follow me, and I thought I had finally made a break through!! He finally understood I was his friend.  I followed him down the hill out of site, where he then gave me his backpack, walked to the sewer, crouched and defecated and urinated out in the open.  I was shocked, and instantly turned my back to him to give him some dignity... I have no words for this event, except that it triggered something in me.  The walk back up the hill was hard.

Another boy that came in today from hospice broke my heart.  His father and brother passed away and his mother passed away just last week... He was found alone in his home.  He is watched over in hospice, and today when the nurse went to check on him he was asleep with a burning fever. 

These children are the same as any other child in the world.  It is not their fault...

Goodnight.