Kon Kon!! That’s the greeting here when you walk into a room.
It took me a few days to figure this out. I kept thinking, ‘Why not just knock on the door?’ Then, walking around the neighbourhood, I noticed that some houses and shops use simple curtains instead of doors…
My mentor is doing well; the heart scare turned out to be nothing serious, and he’s back at work. We had our first meeting since I arrived at the clinic, and we’re all feeling more at ease now with his guidance, knowing we’re on the right track.
These past eight days have been the most intense since we started working. A wedding without a bride, the first death in three months at the clinic, and a strike by the public health service… Understanding all this chaos required a lot of dialogue.
The public health system staff are fed up with being poorly paid workers, which makes sense since salaries are incredibly low. I still can’t quite wrap my head around how they manage. According to the Sourcing Manager, a person can go a whole year without working and still have a meal at a family member’s table here.
It was expected that our clinic, not joining the strike, would receive a large number of patients, and it did. A young man arrived at the clinic with acute respiratory failure on the second day of the strike. Despite the doctor’s efforts, including administering respiratory medication, the situation worsened after the family intervened, leading to his tragic death 40 minutes after arrival, despite the efforts of three nurses to resuscitate him. He was only 25 years old.
The previous week, our focus had been on training for non-invasive automatic ventilation, highlighting organisational deficiencies and prioritising protocol improvements at the clinical level. The incident underscored the critical need for better control and adherence to protocols in hospital wards, where such errors unfortunately occur daily, sometimes with fatal consequences. Witnessing this tragedy weighed heavily on our spirits, reinforcing our mission to identify and implement preventive measures to avoid future tragedies like this one. The inconsolable cries of the young man’s mother still haunt me.
At our clinic, nurses Onesma and Bruno work night shifts four days a week. It has become a tradition for us to share dinner and the early hours of their long nights together. Bruno, a family man, works tirelessly at the hospital every weekday, barely earning enough to live comfortably or spend quality time with his loved ones. Despite his hardships, he maintains a sense of humour and resilience, often sharing stories of his passion for football, even if his stamina no longer matches his skill.
Onesma, in contrast, carries a burden evident in her tired, sometimes sad, and occasionally angry demeanour. Beyond the challenges of nursing in this environment, she navigates the complexities of womanhood with remarkable intelligence, strength, and compassion. She has been invaluable in helping me understand the country’s political realities.
Well, I think that’s enough for now. I’ll fill you in on the wedding without the bride in my next diary.
Talk soon.
