Kenya you are amazingly beautiful

“The only man I envy is the man who has not yet been to Africa – for he has so much to look forward to.” – Richard Mullin

I don’t know how much of Kenyan news makes it to the States, but, for those who follow international news don’t worry, I am safe. With the recent Westgate attack, Mombasa church shooting, demonstrations in Kisii town and the tribal disputes in Kisumu, it’s hard not to see Kenya as a country plagued by violence. However, like anywhere in the world, Kenya has its good qualities and bad. Therefore, I dedicate this post to all the amazingly beautiful things I see.  I could never do Kenya justice if I tried to describe its beauty… hopefully these photos can demonstrate how gorgeous this country and its people are.

Beautiful schoolgirls. Photo taken in Tabaka.

 

Children outside the hospital gate.

 

Child drawing on a wall with a rock.

Photo taken in Tabaka.

Lake Victoria.

Lake Victoria. They catch the fish from the lake

and lay them out to dry and then sell.

Flowers.

 

 

Child from the village.

Children from the village.

Lake Victoria.

 

Women carrying water from the lake.

 

My little rays of sunshine. They are discharge ins,

they constantly follow me around the hospital distracting

me from work.

 

I have found several pairs of TOMS since I have been here.

Go buy a pair, they are really sent to developing countries.

 

Woman selling fruit in the market.

Pots at the market.

Woman who practices Legio Maria. Very common

religious movement among the Lou tribe.

 

Buffalo. Photo taken at Masai Mara.

Elephant family.

Zebras. The rainy season is when most animals have

their babies.

Found a lion.

First wild lion I have ever seen!

 

Wildebeest.

 

Market in Kisumu. I have an obsession with buying fabric.

Still haven't made anything, but you never know,

maybe I will find a love for fashion design.

Meet Cleo Patrick, yes his name is Cleo Patrick!

He is such  an inspiration. Orphaned and trying to do

everything he can to go to school and support his siblings.

Children using a bucket as a drum.

Of course you see all the beautiful children, but what I love

about this photo is the child on the left. He is using sticks, string,

and two plastic pieces to make a toy. All materials were collected from the trash.

You are looking at a future engineer. 

 

 

 Video taken at Maisha in Kisumu.

 

I hope you enjoyed these photos as much as I did.  Also, I would like to thank every single person who has supported me throughout this experience. It really makes a difference when I receive messages and mail from my friends and family, I love you all!! If you like my work please go to my cmmb webpage and donate, I'm still trying to make it to $5,000. The link can be found a the top of the page called check out CMMB.

Finally, LHS, thank you for the beautiful article!

 

 

http://lhslance.org/2014/features/cmmb-alumna-mckinnon-nurses-tabaka-africa/

 

 

 

Discharge in

“Every day many not be good… but there’s something good in every day”.

I have been working on the same ward for several months now. Many patients come and go just like hospitals in the States. However, if you do not have insurance or have the money to pay your hospital bills you cannot leave the hospital until you pay. We use the term “discharge in” to describe these patients. Every day you are a “discharge in” the bill continues to accumulate to cover the cost of your bed and food. Also, if you are a discharge in and you relapse, you will not be treated until you have cleared your previous bill. It’s a completely unethical way to address the situation, and, from what I have seen the hospital seems to lose more money by keeping patients hostage. Sometimes I see patients suffer right in front of my eyes because of this policy.

Because of this policy I have one patient I have grown very close to. Herin was admitted to my ward over three months ago for a massive wound to the left upper leg. I still don’t have a good history, but, when I asked her how it happened she said “it just did”. Look at the picture, wounds like this don’t just happen. We treated her for about a month, but, because the wound was still too large for a skin graft, we discharged her with instructions to go to her nearby clinic and receive alternate daily dressings. With no insurance, days pass and her family is nowhere to be found. She just tells me she doesn’t have money. I also come to learn her husband left her for another women because she is sick. Because she is a discharge in, all antibiotics, cleanings, and medication are stopped. She complains of pain and her dressing is soaked in puss. Finally, after a very intense conversation with the administration she is allowed to have ibuprofen, and receives alternate daily dressings. She continues to stay in my ward the next two months, her wound slowly heals.

About two weeks ago I noticed the lower part of her leg was swollen, hot and tender.  I begin to think abscess. Once again, I bring it to the doctor’s attention, but because she is a discharge in he says we can’t do anything. The doctor and I both try talking to the administration but they say no, “she must find money”.

Her wound continues to slowly heal, but I’m frustrated because a wound like this can take over a year to heal without grafting. Her abscess continues to be neglected.  Then, about a week ago an Italian surgeon came to visit Tabaka. Immediately, I showed him this patient and discussed her serious need for grafting. I asked him if he could speak with his Italian collages about this patient. Maybe he would be willing to do the surgery for free, and we could only charge her for the medication, and materials used. Success!!!! Italians have a good pull with each other. Herin received the surgery the same week.

Herin is still not well enough to go home but I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am for her. My job is full of so many sad moments that sometimes I need to take a step back and look at the positive. As if Herin finally getting a skin graft wasn’t good enough, the other day she told me something that meant the world to me. She told me thank you so much. I told her welcome and don’t worry about it. She then proceeded to say how she appreciates how I have taken care of her the last three months. Once again I tell her it’s no problem, I’m only doing my job. Lastly, she tells me I’m the one who helped her get the surgery she needed and without me the doctor would not have understood her financial problems.

Having a patient be so appreciative and express how much my actions meant to them is pretty special. I almost lost all hope for treatment, but, this just shows you can never lose hope, for you never know what the next day holds. This situation just shows the importance of advocating for your patients, even if it’s next to impossible to be heard… like it is in Kenya. Although, I feel like I was just doing my job, I know having someone stand up for her means more to her than I could ever comprehend. I can tell she now has hope for her future health. I’m so happy and blessed to be a part of her treatment.

 

 Warning graphic pictures below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Herins wound 2 plus months ago

Post skin graft last week

 

Herin and I post skin graft

 

"White Kenyan"

For some reason I am having a hard time writing another post. I don’t know exactly why, but, I think it’s because I am no longer startled by the things I see here. I am no longer finding Kenya as an exotic foreign country, but, I guess, I am starting to see Kenya for what it is.

Locals here are beginning to call me the “white Kenyan”. They say I am “not proud like the other whites”. That comment says a lot about how Kenyans perceive the white culture. I believe the word they are looking for is humble. They are also convinced I speak Kiswahili. However, knowing greetings and having the ability to make a few sentences does not make me fluent. Many of my coworkers are even offering to find me a husband, or be my husband, so I stay here. Their comments make me laugh, they act like I’m over the hill at age twenty-three. They don’t understand why I’m not married with a couple of kids by now. One of the doctors even told me I better get started because I need to worry about menopause. It’s just a totally different culture, children are not even a speck on my radar. It’s nice to be loved and accepted, but, I know I am not strong enough to live in a third world country forever. The longer I am away the more I love my country, and my health care system.

Even though I have no intention of finding a Kenyan spouse I do feel like I am becoming more attached and protective of my hospital and coworkers. Because Tabaka was established by the Camillianos (a catholic congregation from Italy) we have many Italians that visit Tabaka. They often stay about two weeks and leave. My ideas about volunteering are changing as a result of this. I see so many volunteers come and go in such a short time. Although their work is appreciated, they are soon forgotten, as if they never even came. Seeing this makes me more determined than ever not to be one of those types of volunteers. I love nursing but I want to do something more. At this point I believe the only way is through education. Ironically, I was just offered a clinical instructor position at Tabakas School of nursing. I have already accepted the position. I would like to say everything is set, but, the school and hospital lack structure and organization.  It’s frustrating because I feel like I have so much to offer.

Like I said we have many Italians here. The Italians have a very funny culture. They seem very clicky and most of them don’t speak English.  It’s very hard to relate, even harder than to the Kenyans. We have no way of communicating. They don’t speak English and I don’t speak Italian. Fortunately, I am familiar with Spanish which has actually helped me when trying to communicate. Despite the language barrier and the clickiness I have been determined to make the two younger Italians my friends. It’s still a working progress but slowly they are beginning to like me.

Italian visitors 

 

Work here is going good. I’m still working on the female medical surgical ward. I’m trying to spend my time between medical and surgical equally, but, because of the lack of nurses I am now managing the surgical side most days. Between medical and surgical my ward has 65 beds. Most days there are usually two nurses working and it is a struggle! One of the foreign doctors compares my ward to a refugee camp, many patients with few nurses. I still get frustrated with the staff but there are a few doctors I actually really respect. Both the surgical and medical doctor for my ward are excellent given their lack of resources.

Recently, I have been more frustrated with my patients. Often they try to tell me what to do, or tell me I’m doing my job wrong. They have a hard time understanding why I do things differently from the other nurses. In fact, the other day I had a patient’s family member literally scream at me because I wanted to confirm the placement of an NG tube before administering medication. In the US this is standard, we do it for safety reasons, but, I guess not in Kenya. I am also frustrated by seeing people die because of ignorance. For example, last week a child was admitted to our hospital because of dehydration due to vomiting and diarrhea. The child ended up dying, not because dehydration, but, because of sepsis. His family believed that if your child is dehydrated and vomiting you should remove all their teeth. As a result he ended up acquiring an infection which ultimately lead to his death. This is an extreme case but its reality here.

Amongst all the work I have been trying to keep myself busy during my days off. Tabaka is very small and has zero form of entertainment. However, I love walking around the village trying to communicate with the locals and children. Every time I leave the gates the children scream and call out mzungu mzungu. I love it, it’s probably what I’m going to miss the most once I leave this country. The children have also learned “mzungu mzungu, give me sweets”. Although I’m a huge sweet tooth I don’t usually carry around candy to give to children I don’t know. In my country that would be considered creepy, but here giving a child candy is completely normal. So, now I buy candy and pass it out when I can find a small group of children. Any group bigger than three you run the risk of being bombarded and running out.

"mzungu mzungu give me sweets"

 

Giving away candy

 

He loved my hat,

 excuse my awful hat hair

 

Beautiful Tabakan baby

He loved my camera

Also, I have officially started legitimate Kiswahili lessons, I don’t know how long it will last but I really appreciate the help. Fr Gabriel has decided to take me under his wing because right now I speak “kitchen Swahili”. Believe it or not in this region of Kenya many people do not speak proper Kiswahili, so I’m picking up a lot of shang (yes it’s called shang not slang). In addition, whenever I have the opportunity I try to visit Lake Victoria. The lake is actually very close but the roads are terrible so it takes forever to get there. I love the lake, it’s definitely on my top ten list of most beautiful places I have ever seen. Surrounded by beautiful green landscape, the lake is so big it looks like the ocean. Lake Victoria is literally heaven on earth to me in Kenya, I wish I could stay on the lake all the time.

In the village Nyagwethe

Nyagwethe children

Lake Victoria

Lake Victoria