Rounds

I follow Dr. Blande on rounds today. Well, he is actually almost done when I show up…but I am with him for a few patients. The first patient is a man who had broken his leg in two places a year and a half ago. They had put metal rods in, but it got infected and they recently had to reopen the upper wound so they could pack it and get rid of the infection. As I watch Dr. Blande repack the wound I get sick to my stomach. It’s not because of the wound though, it is the pain etched on the man's face during the whole procedure. The next patient is a lady who looks completely out of it. Her eyes are unfocused, her breathing rapid. She looks like every moment could be her last. She has two abscesses on the left side of her face. Dr. Blande squeezes them and grayish white liquid comes pouring out. I start to feel like I'm going to lose my breakfast. I look away. Surely he will be done soon. But no, with every squeeze more pus appears. I don't understand how so much pus fits inside someone's face. I swear it takes five minutes until his squeezing produces no more results. He sighs as he looks at her, "I don't know what else to do for her. She's already on quinine and doxy. She's not eating or drinking well. She's probably going to die soon." I still feel sick. I don't know, maybe it's just a matter of getting used to everything still. Sigh.

There's a lady in the exam room

Laughing, eyes sparkling

Her tummy round with child.

She's bearing new life.

There's a lady in maternity.

Trying, mind determined.

Her preemie gets breast milk.

She's caring for new life.

There's a lady in the TB ward

Resting, always tired.

Her preemie doesn't get care.

She's neglecting new life.

There's a lady in bed 15

Panting, ribcage heaving

Eyes roll around in her head.

She's fighting for her life.