Sha-Zambia

In no specific order, some the things that I will miss about living in Zambia:

Plumeria trees, fresh bananas (with peanut butter of course), little toads (Theodores) stuck on the bathroom windows and in the toilets; renegade cows, sheep, and goats running in front of the Cruisers; riding in the Cruisers sideways and without seatbelts, the dry landscape that is charred but also super green, guinea hens (I want one for Christmas), chicken burgers with chips at the Choma Museum; fried dough for 500 kwacha at the market (the lady selling it recognized me...bad sign); fresh bread from Macha; driving on the opposite side; bumpy roads that rearrange your internal organs; colorful chitenges; sharing a bathroom and 3 somewhat sketchy showers with 10 girls; pink and blue 1-ply toilet paper that also served as party decorations; greeting everyone – mostly shaking a hundred hands at church; watching kick-butt sunrises/sets while listening to Bon Iver & Death Cab; dirty, mizqueet-bitten feet with sweet Chaco tan lines; the choir at Shampande – complete with drums – that gave me chills every time they sang; prayer when everyone is praying out loud and it sounds like gibberish, but God knows exactly what is being said; the sound effects the women make in order affirm people; the red dust that became almost therapeutic; the genetically modified Avatar bugs; the smells – the good and the bad; sleeping with a mosquito net every night (didn’t get Malaria – Shazam); sweating like a beast (maybe not…talk to me in January); curtseying and holding my elbow when shaking hands: being at church for 4 hours; living with Mikala and Kelsey – throwing socks into the fan for entertainment, our LOTR marathon, asking questions about God and realizing that we may not have concrete answers, but that God is still good and perfect; NSHIMA; having no clue what people are saying when they rattle off to me in Tonga; the passion; the squished frogs on the road – counted 25 on one road while running; my nieces and nephews at the Children’s Nest orphanages – spinning them around until I thought I would surely puke, being called Auntie Emily, attempting to read German books or translating them into English (I don’t speak German); the fans that kept us alive in the 100+ degree heat; the various ways we tried to stay cool (a wash cloth on the abdomen, dumping a water bottle on myself in my bed; the people who would laugh at the Mugua running down the street and join in – especially the barefoot women with babies on their backs; the ginormous sky that was beautiful alllll the time; Zambian peanut butter; hearing the testimonies of the people on our team and being reminded of how good God is even during tough times…….

This doesn’t even scratch the surface, but it will suffice for now. I left part of my heart in Zambia

Feeling Nostalgic....Already

Digging my Heels into the Ground

Above: Mel and I under our beloved Plumeria trees. Sooo much better than the Bath & Body Works fragrance.
Above: This picture was an accident, but I love hands and what they can say about a person.
Above: Sometimes you get lucky pictures when the kids have the camera...Yivonne, Derrick, and I.
Above: Who needs a jungle gym? Auntie Emily is sufficient. This is my niece Sarah.
Above: The rains arrived in full force - we went a little crazy because that means no more waking up in pools of our own sweat!! But it does mean more mosquitoes...drat.
Above: Mel and I resetting a dislocated elbow. What a workout. We both broke a sweat from all of the yanking. This girl was such a trooper. Note to self, never ever dislocate a joint...never.

Above: Mel, Kelsey, and I getting snazzy for our day in Theater...Ohhh the operations we saw!

My time here in Zambia is winding down and while I'm unbelievably excited to be reunited with family and friends, I'm dreading leaving this place that has become so much like home and these people who have become so much like family. But, 3 weeks leaves ample time for many more crazy adventures. After all, THIZ.....
Brucie

Zimba

This is an update from the week we spent at Zimba Mission Hospital...just a little late.

Day one: Wednesday. Kelsey and I spent the day in the pharmacy talking drugs with Sinyangwe, the Bemba pharmacist. We learned a ton about the medicines used here, but in the afternoon we started talking heavier stuff. It started off being about how Zambians perceive Americans and vice versa, then we started talking about politics, then marriage, and then spiritual gifts. We ended up having Bible study with him for the next three days...We planned on going to church with him, but because of the loss of electricity and water, we had to miss out on that...bummer.

Day two: Thursday. I was in the OPD (out patient department) with two other students. We took vitals on 90+ people. It was pretty crazy. There was one guy in particular who I saw that broke my heart...his story comes in to play later. The big event from OPD was a lady who came in by wheelchair. He family wheels her up to the door and it was pretty clear that she needed immediate medical attention. As we’re getting her vitals, she went rigid and her eyes rolled back in her head. We immediately thought seizure so we start to get her to the ground but then notice that she stopped breathing and has no pulse. People are gathering around like crazy (the bystander effect) and we had to start yelling to get people out of the way. Taylor started doing compressions. The lady started breathing again and had a pulse. Turns out she had miscarried and had been bleeding for two weeks. We saw them remove the RPOC (remaining products of conception) and by that afternoon she was stable…so crazy. It was so scary. The only reason I did not have an emotional breakdown was that I saw her alive.

Day three: I was in female ward rounding with the doctor. He taught us a lot about disease processes. Did you know that you can get TB in places other than the lungs? One patient had spinal TB and another had it around her heart. We did some blood draws and saw a paracentesis (draining fluid from a woman’s abdomen).

The afternoon was when things got crazy. Kelsey, Mikala, and I went to the pharmacy to hang out with Sinyangwe again, but he wasn’t there so we went to female ward. Almost immediately this woman was brought in who was in respiratory distress and was drenched in sweat. We came to find out that she had drunk pesticide in order to commit suicide. Then her family walked her 7k to the hospital. I thought her heart was going to stop, but the nurse Clever was amazing and got an IV going quickly and gave her activated charcoal and atropine. It was super tense there for a while and all we could do was pray that she would vomit. The doctor came in and said that in Lusaka he would see patients come in every day who had attempted suicide with poison, but in Zimba it was more like once a month. He said that they’re often HIV patients, rape victims, etc. What a horrible thing to have to see – but she pulled through. Between that and this next story I was on the verge of tears the whole afternoon. Later we ran into this patient’s family on their way back home and we got to talk to them more – what amazing people. It was such a good feeling to be able to laugh with them after all of that. I hope that they can provide encouragement to this young girl who wanted to end her life. She is a new mother. Rough stuff.

Remember the man from OPD on Thursday? Well they decided to admit him on Friday. This may not seem like as intense of a story as the previous two, but for some reason, this man stole my heart. I took his temperature and he was shaking so hard that the thermometer barely stayed in his armpit. His temp was 39.7 Centigrade. I’m not exactly sure what that converts to in Farenheit, but I think it’s around 103 or more. He had such a huge smile on his face, but I had to hold back tears when I touched him because all I could think about was how whatever infection was raging inside of his body could kill him because his defenses are gone. I hate HIV. I hate seeing people who have wasted into a bag of bones. I hate telling people that only 1% of the U.S. population has it. I hate standing there feeling helpless when these people are dying and nothing can be done. All I can do is squeeze a hand or rub a back. Death and dying sucks, but seeing people slowly die from HIV/AIDs is pretty close to hell. I really struggled with this man. I can only pray that his defenses will be enough to kick this infection, but will the next one be the one to kill him?

It was a great week but like the others, so tough and so challenging. How is it possible that I'll be home in less than 3 weeks?!

Brucie