nights of joy

Well, the androgynous chicken was found having sex, and shortly afterwards found himself in a casserole, the first bit of real protein for a while. Chorizio does not count. Our other problem has been that the fridge, but bizarrely not the freezer has broken and this is proving a little tiresome. Parts are apparently on order but have to come from Addis so who knows. I can not stop the gardener digging now, perfectly good bits of scrub and virgin jungle are being turned into red mud. I suggested that a few fewer hours might be in order but got a spiel about starvation and a request to look at his rather damaged feet –no idea but look fungal to me and this was clearly an affliction of our predecessors in the house as there is quite a lot of suitable cream about. Meanwhile all about us think that we are good for a rip off, even the cleaning and cooking (currently for hundreds and thousands) lady charged 15 birr for 5 oranges which even I as a Faranj can buy at a birr each. As and when inflation reaches Ethiopia it will be the aid worker whot did it. We are also getting the catering that the Americans are so maybe there may be peanut butter in something soon.

The prolapse team has now swung down the Oregon trail and arrived. There are lots of Americans in flowerery theatre caps swanning around and about to start some operation fest, doing both abdominal and vaginal procedures, so I have sent Wasihun off to take part while I sat through a dreary clinic though may possibly have found an operative ca cervix, the second in two weeks. I may have re-invent myself as a cancer doc but no histology at all so just do your best. I suspect that they may be just prolapse tourist just honing their skills but (David take note) one does his prolapse repairs with a robot in Portland so open surgery must be quite novelty for him. I am wondering about how they got on as there were a series of power cuts this afternoon which would have caused a certain amount of disarray. Never go anywhere without your head lamp. I am doing my best to be a good obstetrician but you can not check urine for protein on site and ladies with raised BPs seem to disappear when you send them off for a urine test..I am not sure where they get to and just hope they do not come back twitching or worse. Orange lentils for both lunch and supper, but goody goody, reheated rice as well for supper and another box of red wine bites the dust.
Given that I am on call and my scrubs are wet I put them over the oven to dry – such extravagance – but do not fancy damp scrubs.
Wake up early for my day on call and arrive slightly early to find that Jabba has been gently roasted overnight as some one (nameless of course) had put the electric blanket on so roast Jabba basted in essence of Turd but apart from solidly refusing to gain weight as he vomits and is only fed intermittently he seems none the worse for his hyperpyrexia. Karen meanwhile has managed to find some oversize nappies so hopefully we will be able to try and keep his bum less sore. Mean while on the ward and within the dreaded ward round all is not well. The baby whose section was delayed for lunch and aspirated some meconium looks flat and terrible. As I listen to the wheezy and tight chest he crashes and we go through the saga of a 25 minute arrest routine and get the heart rate back twice continually bagging him but he is unable to breath, so sadly we call a halt and the baby dies in his mother’s arms. He is subsequently placed in a card board box marked a little ironically ‘handle with care’ as it is casually moved around the floor by foot. The prolapse team, those of flowery hats and strange American theatre foot wear are in full cry and filling the ward up but more importantly blocking both theatres as I want to do a caesarean section for failure to progress in a trial of scar with a bit of tenderness. The catheter which has something of a pre-used look about it is not draining despite appearing to be in the right place and I am reduced to draining the bladder with a 10ml syringe and a green needle-delaying my section somewhat but all well. I must return and see if she is now peeing. The arrival of the prolapse team and the thought of free operations (buy one get one free) is causing immense queues in outpatients which is more chaotic than usual however since the prolapse team is here they can now screen their own patients. I have sloped away for a cup of coffee and to write this. I had believed that once you got to hospital it would be safe if not nice and now have to revise this. Bit like the curates egg I suspect – good in parts.
Back at the house find the gardener busy removing greenery from the slope – so I fear soil erosion or worse a landslide or constant dust in the drying area. I fear he is finding things to do but now it is getting a little destructive but he gets selective understanding when you try to stop him. The compost pit seems to be doomed too as the concept of compost or throwing things away not in aplastic bag is foreign to the local mindset. Oh and no eggs yet!