There were no surgeries today, and there were also no American doctors at the hospital either. During the week each doctor is designated a day off and it is called their “alternative ministry day.” They can spend time with their family, spend time in the villages, get work done at the hospital that isn’t entirely medically related, etc. Today was Dr. Wegner’s alternative ministry day, so he was not obligated to work at the hospital; Dr. Tenpenny was sick at home and was throwing up most of the day; and Dr. Harvey was having visual disturbances (like seeing doubles/not seeing at all); so today was a little crazy! Priscilla and I rode our bikes to morning devotions and report and quickly realized that there were no doctors at the hospital. So there were no rounds to go on, or at least that we could understand. The Congolese doctors, Dr. Noah and Dr. Cyriaque (major guessing to how his name is spelled) always go on rounds with the other American doctors as well, but Dr. Cyriaque only speaks French/Lingala, and Dr. Noah speaks limited English. So we began by going on rounds with them for a little, but quickly realized that it would probably be a waste of time (not knowing what was going on) and we could be helpful elsewhere. So we went to the Wegner’s house and made some welcome home signs for the Samoutou’s house because they would be arriving today. So after making signs we walked to the Samoutou’s and began making beds, decorating, and cleaning for their arrival.

After that, Dr. Harvey called us and told us that he wanted us to come to his office so that he could teach us about tetanus. Dr. Harvey had come in late to work due to his lack of sight, and had been meeting with some outpatients for a while by the time he called us in. There is an 8-day-old infant in the ER who had contracted tetanus, which is why he wanted to teach us about it. He began by explaining that this baby had been born in the village of the woman because she couldn’t make it to the hospital on time. He hypothesized that a random knife probably cut the infant’s umbilical cord, and that the knife was likely not very clean. He then went on to explain that Clostridium tetani (an anaerobic bacteria = can’t live in the presence of oxygen) can be found in the dirt, and any dirt (and the bacteria) on the knife used to cut the umbilical cord could then find its way inside/live inside the umbilical stump. This gives the bacteria a perfect and easy entrance into the baby’s body. Dr. Harvey explained that it is not the bacteria itself that causes one to have tetanus, but it is the toxins that it releases that causes the harm. The toxins affect the neuromuscular junction (where your nerve meets up with your muscle to tell it what to do) and causes uncontrollable spasms that look similar to seizures but are not sustained. It is a full-body muscular contraction that cannot be controlled or stopped. The danger is that during the contraction, muscles in the trachea (airway) contract as well and close the airway. So the main ways to treat tetanus as a nurse are to 1) clean the wound so that no further bacteria can enter the body, 2) maintain an open airway within the patient, and 3) eliminate excess stimuli (light, sound, touch) that would cause the patient to unnecessarily contract. Further treatment involves giving a pre-cultured antibody blood serum (in America this can be cultured in human serum, in Africa it is cultured in horses because it is cheaper) against the bacteria’s toxin. On his day off, Dr. Wegner spent all afternoon searching for the horse serum and eventually found it! 

In the afternoon we helped out with vitals at the ER since there were still no surgeries. It was another sad day at the ER because during the middle of vitals a young girl suddenly died. Priscilla and I took her vitals not 10 minutes earlier and they were normal, so we were completely stunned when we heard wailing from the room we had just left. We were taking vitals in the ER observation room when multiple cries were heard. We rushed to the opposite room to find Dr. Noah listening for a heartbeat, the heartbeat that I had just heard strongly beating a few moments earlier. The girl was cold, and her chest had ceased to rise. She had passed. It was so sad and so unexpected. She had been unconscious when we had seen her before, but she was breathing properly and her heart sounded strong, so we were all very confused. When the cries and wailing started, everyone, literally everyone and their grandma (no joke, when someone comes to the hospital the entire family comes too) came to see what was going on at the ER. All the ladies in maternity, all the other nurses, all the lab technicians, every random person at the hospital came to see what the commotion was about. Women were crying everywhere and yelling chants, it was like nothing I had ever seen. The ladies would run in to see the girl on the bed, yell chants, wave their hands, and then run out sobbing and shaking. It was so sad and slightly disturbing not knowing what they were yelling.

The rest of the afternoon was slow; we stuck around the ER for a while and then headed to the Wegner’s to be measured for skirts and other clothing by Corentin. Corentin (pictured bellow in front of the storm that hit us about 5 minutes later) is our hospital handyman, mechanic, plumber, seamstress, and carpenter. If you need something done, chances are he can do it…or figure it out. He is making clothes for us with the fabric we bought on my birthday; I can wait to see how it all turns out!

After that we headed home, I ran (put some extra distance between myself and a random man carrying 4 machetes today on the road), we showered, we ate some leftovers at the Harvey’s house, and then waged war against three cockroaches—it was a two-thirds victory.

Prayer: That Dr. Tenpenny would feel better soon, that Dr. Harvey’s vision would return or somehow be fixed, and the Mrs. Harvey’s strep throat would get better as well.

Goodnight!