Khartoum, Sudan
1 July 2009.
First
July. It begins the last month. Mayo this morning on my way to come to my mind, I wonder why, in July as a boy, the sea at Brindisi: walks, going to get ice cream morning, the almond milk in Victory Square by Uncle Dante and the bus leading to the beach, out of town, before my mother took my license. I wonder how I was reminded, perhaps the association is the heat, that reminds me of the sleepless nights there, his body leaning against the marble to try some fresh: there were no air conditioners and then the south wind carried the air of Africa, the Sahara. But now the bill me directly, without sirocco. But in truth the heat is less fierce, perhaps because of the wind, but I know I already said and repeated. So what I tell you? I found myself, yesterday and today, visiting hoards of children with the same problems that we, fever, cough, cold, and just about anything thanks to God With some belly swollen from amoebas and giardia, and a pair of malnourished children to do so pity. One of his face was swollen Kwashi, and we Preparing for us to send it to the hospital, but when mounted on the ambulance, my mother shook her head, she would not. Difficult situation: her eyes were full of tears, and I do not know why I could not even speak Arabic. I realized I could not take it: Who knows, maybe he meant to admit failure, to be recognized in the drama. What could I do? Screaming, to harm, beat them in the face of that child who is dying and ask her to assume responsibility? The children here die from malnutrition, but not for lack of food, poverty, ignorance, rather, in the sense of not knowing what to give him. And why have other children, because they are pregnant soon, too soon to continue to breastfeed because mothers are working and can not possibly keep up with children. Mothers unfortunate? And I, who am I to judge? Then it is also my fault that I'm in Europe in the luxury to do them. There is only one culprit, there is someone to blame: if we do, if we blame the mothers, is just to blow off steam with someone, to throw out the anger that unleashes a creature that is dying to see. I asked her to return with gestures, sitting down, I brought the water, I smile. As God has remained there, do not even know why, until a Health Promoter has returned from his round and was able to talk, he, a long time. And in the end he promised to go alone to the hospital: the will, Abdel Aziz knows it and it would be a shame for her to lie at this point.
strange day, however, made up of guys without any real emergencies, students who come after school because maybe you only have a cough (but maybe he had a one-induced asthma), even a case of chicken pox, and then a real urgency to ' last moment, just like in the office from me. At three twenty arrived 4 days of a child with even the umbilical cord: a young mother to her first child, an aunt. Born at home, and refuses the milk she cries, and irritable. It has a fever for four days. A neonatal sepsis almost certain, with no need to visit it, without needing to do analysis: a true emergency. How do I? Al Basheer I can not take it, do not have neonatology, have neither facilities nor staff. So what? Should I take him to Ondurman, pediatric hospital, but it will be one hour away with traffic: what if I make a stop during the trip? Risk, what else can I do! E 'survived four days, to resist. Hopefully. Telephone with Mark, the logistician, asking for help, if I'm going to Ondurman and bring back the ambulance to Mayo to take the other staff, arrive home at 6. He turns into four and give me away: Soba part by a machine that will collect them, you go.
When we are all in Soba promised us two cars and two drivers, because they do not need anymore to continue the tours and staff that goes back to the hospital.
Childbirth, and once again I realize I'm doing the corn in certain situations: I am calm, I try not to think. There is traffic, but Howard uses every trick he knows: we arrive at the hospital, let's go. And 'the hospital where I almost lost, but now I know everything and lead like a hawk on a doctor exhausted, almost semiaddormaentata on the desk. It collects, greets me, I explain, the child takes the fly. Good work, inshalla. Seeing a frown, more and more angry with a world where the dice are loaded. Not even 5 of the watermelon, that has replaced the English tea for me, icy cold and sweet, is able to calm down. Tomorrow we start again, missing twenty-six days at the end. How many will die I will see again?
change the subject, do not do the dramatic. Mica all die, of course! Today was a little one's feet impiagati pus, infection on atopic dermatitis that took away: some wraps and gets along, nothing really bad, at least now that we take care of, I dare not think if it had remained without treatment. Neglected infections of the skin are really heavy to be seen here: the other day, a poor child's face was devastated. You can easily cure, however, only if we carry them: now these cases are increasing, perhaps it will be because of the flies that despite the relative increase in fresh.
I spend the evening trying to calm myself, and thinking about how to organize my farewell party. It will be a little bleak, with so few people: the dinner is now amosfera from "Ten Little Indians," who knows who will be the next to disappear. Meanwhile, reacting to climb on the roof tonight for a Nutella party. The story is this: at a supermarket has anyone found a couple of jars of Nutella. It seems that last year they arrived (gift from Ferrero, the fabled) from Milan giants several packs of Nutella, the Moretti, and from there was born the tradition. However, when someone finds out the nutella is to buy some decent bread and then everyone on the roof, where not only does a terrible heat, or in a room with air conditioning. Now the heat of day is less fierce, but the night is still very heavy, especially on the concrete roof: we're going to try, then decide. I predict cholesterol and philosophical chats to the stars.
As we are to pick ourselves up, more good news: Isa called me tonight, as I had asked her to tell me about the initiative of the children of the Emergency Firefly, which went amazingly well, there was a lot of people. I am also happy for Alex, I know that depresses going to relate their experiences and see that so little care, but is part of the rules of the game, we know. This time, however, went well, and this gives breath you who are beyond us and that we are here. And we would not do anything if it were not for you to spit blood and patience, hard work and courage.
0 comments:
Post a Comment