You can see the scars, physically and emotionally, from the years of war. It's a healing nation. However, if you're a hospital here, you have definite job security. Between motorcycle crashes, malaria, and everything in between, CEML Hospital and Clinic is bustling with patients.
I have a list of stories to tell about CEML and the patients there. Nonetheless, they'll have to wait. The stories I want to tell right now are about Kalukembe.
Kalukembe is a hospital 2-3 hours away
from Lubango.
It was started as a Swiss Mission Hospital around a hundred years
ago—with its peak in the 50s-60s. Dozens upon dozens of foreign doctors
practiced at this nationally-known hospital. Today, all those doctors are gone.
Resources are limited. Angolan nurses run the 140-bed facility: women’s ward,
men’s ward, pediatric ward, ICU, and even emergency surgeries. They will
continue on as they have until a new doctor comes. The buildings haven’t
changed.
A couple of time-capsule nuggets: the lighting fixtures in the OR that could very much have walked right from the 50’s and the Emergency Surgery book from 1967 in the doctor’s changing room.
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| View from the road to Kalukembe |
A couple of time-capsule nuggets: the lighting fixtures in the OR that could very much have walked right from the 50’s and the Emergency Surgery book from 1967 in the doctor’s changing room.
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| View from the road to Kalukembe |
Once a month, either Dr. Steve or Dr. Annelise (general surgeons at CEML) will travel with their OR staff, visiting doctors, and interns to do patient consults (think: clinic visits), surgeries, and give recommendations on admitted patients who aren’t getting better.
A group of us went to Kalukembe
Thursday-Saturday (5/21st-23rd). Call it a jackpot for
limited resource-tropical medicine and advanced pathophysiology. The squad: Dr.
Annelise (the general surgeon and Kalukembe veteran), Dr. Young (our expert on
all things pulmonologist-y), Monalisa (faithful scrub tech from CEML; my
roommate for the weekend), Big C (CEML OR nurse, trained in anesthesia; quiet but
sure fellow), Wilson (our favorite Brazilian OB-GYN in his 1st year
of residency and novela aficionado),
and Alex (university student on track to become a general surgeon; also
resident suture-r). Oh, and they let me come too.
This trip was a highlight for me.
Fun people make for a fun trip. However, sick people make for a lot of
learning.
Our timeline for our days:
The Squad followed Dr. Annelise during rounds in the morning, then to the OR until nightfall. After that, we sat through patient consults until midnight. Wake up early the next morning to do the same thing again. Somewhere in there, they fed us breakfast, coffee, lunch, and dinner. I think we slept at some point, but I’m not entirely sure.
Everyone had their spot at Kalukembe. Dr. Annelise operated. Where there was surgery and suturing to do, Alex was sure to follow. Dr. Young, not appreciating the perpetual quantities of “blood and guts” in the OR, preferred seeing patients in the wards. Wilson participating in some surgeries and spent time translating for Dr. Young. Monalisa was at Dr. A’s every surgery, ready to go. Big C spent half of his time in Dr. A’s OR and the OR next door, where the Kalukembe OR nurse does some minor operations as well.
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| Jesus Cura: Jesus Heals Hallway in women's ward. |
The Squad followed Dr. Annelise during rounds in the morning, then to the OR until nightfall. After that, we sat through patient consults until midnight. Wake up early the next morning to do the same thing again. Somewhere in there, they fed us breakfast, coffee, lunch, and dinner. I think we slept at some point, but I’m not entirely sure.
Everyone had their spot at Kalukembe. Dr. Annelise operated. Where there was surgery and suturing to do, Alex was sure to follow. Dr. Young, not appreciating the perpetual quantities of “blood and guts” in the OR, preferred seeing patients in the wards. Wilson participating in some surgeries and spent time translating for Dr. Young. Monalisa was at Dr. A’s every surgery, ready to go. Big C spent half of his time in Dr. A’s OR and the OR next door, where the Kalukembe OR nurse does some minor operations as well.
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| Rounds in the pediatric ward: the white coats came to visit |
Me? I’m not too sure. I work in
pediatric home care. Meaning: I have two specific clients with specific needs I’m
really good at taking care of—leaving the rest of nursing (other than geriatrics)
relatively new and unfamiliar territory. So I did little things here and there,
realizing how little I actually know about a lot.
What I did do: keeping IV fluids running yet not
overloading patients, a goodness-gracious amount of hand-holding of patients in
pain and/or scared; a plethora of thumbs-up and asking people, “Tudo bem?” (Is everything okay?) as well as my 20 other words of Portuguese vocabulary,
playing peekaboo with babies, wishing I could speak Portuguese, praying for
patients and our doctors, translating for Alex during consults from the little
I could understand, taking pictures, fixing the internet access on OR staffs’ English
set phones, and wishing I could speak Portuguese some more.
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| Kalukembe OR nurses dressing a surgical wound after a procedure |
Some people came back with me
though. The whole “I can’t talk to you” thing was really draining and felt really
limiting. The freedom to communicate, express my thoughts, ask questions, crack
a joke, and be understood aren’t things I will be taking lightly from now on. There
are so many things I wish I could have said to a lot of people. So instead of
not saying them, I’ll write them. Not all of these people were met during happy
circumstances. In fact, I think the times I felt I needed to communicate the
most were in the most tragic of moments. During this trip, I sobbed in the hallways, laughed until my sides hurt, smiled until my cheeks felt like Botox injection sites, and dragged my feet, head, and heart through our 16, 17, and 13-hour days. It took me a little while to process life as we drove back--such is the magnitude of the emotional whiplash that is Kalukembe. Amy Grant's version of "It is well, with my soul" played in the car. As I pondered everything that had happened that weekend and the words of the song, I resolved that truly it is well with my soul.
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| The sunset on the drive back to Lubango: a time to process |
Feel free to read my letters to and
about the people I brought with me but left behind:
The Heart-Wrenching
The Heart-Warming
The Heart-Stopping
The Heart-Wrenching
The Heart-Warming
The Heart-Stopping
When peace like a river attends my
way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, you have taught me
to say, “It is well with my soul.”
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