I've been here almost a week now and the past couple of days have been exciting. Each day starts with one of our neighbors bringing some freshly uttered milk. It is obviously delicious rich whole milk, but even after its necessary boiling, tastes much more full bodied than I am used to. Most mornings Shisir and Nokul make their way up the stairs to our living area. Shisir is thirteen years old and Nokul, Fifteen. Both boys almost act if I am their male figure in life. Both of their fathers leave for about nine months at a time to work in some sand mines in Dubai. Apparently the mining companies come and recruit villagers for cheap labor.
I've gotten very close with Shisir. He and I took a mini day trip to a park called Betany. To get to Betany, we walked towards the main road a couple of miles. From there we hopped on the bus passing by. The Bus is essentially a large van, packed with people upon people, many hanging off the sides or hlding onto the roof: luxury at its best. Luckily everything around here is incredible cheap due to lack of money. Shisir and I cost about twenty cents to go to our possibly 5 miles away destination. Betany is actually very nice. Large wooded palm lands surrounding a small lake where you can rent a paddle boat. Again, essentially for no cost. Although I did not witness it, Shisir was telling me how he sometimes is able to dive into the lake and catch a fish with his bar hands. I really hope this is true, and he is very insistnt that it is.
Almost as soon as we returned from our day at the park, their were 3 pregnant women arriving to check on the heart rates of their babies. The babies were fine but it was still great to see how excited they were to hear the beating little heart muscles. About an hour later an 11 year old boy showed us his lacerated wrist. He fell off of a ledge and reopened an old scar. There was too much blood coming out of his arm for what I thought was a small cut. Once I started cleaning the wound it was clear that it was deep and long. Clearly exposed muscle and tendons. I asked him to move his fingers and he could. He was able to feel his distal extremities. I was relieved, Suturing fascia and skin is in my repertoire. Hand and wrist surgery is not. At this point there was no power and therefore no good light. I grabbed a headlight and went to work. Scrubbing the layers of dirt around the wound took longer than expected. He had not been cleaned in quite sometime. Small rocks and dirt laced the inside of the deceivingly large opening. The constant dust carrying wind did not help. It took longer than it should have, mostly due to lack of light and intact equipment, partially due to my inexperience. The sutures were brttle and the tools dull and rusty. I finally sufficiently cleaned and sewed the wound back together. The boy was tough. He stayed relatively still and calm without the aid of painkillers. It was satisfying and a bit nerve wracking. It is much different suturing in a hospital setting with supervision than it is on my own with inadequate materials and a much less than ideal environment.
Every day there is a man, couldn't be more than 70 years old, who comes to get his blood pressure taken. It is always a pleasure. He walks in, sometimes tapping on my door if I am still asleep. Sometimes sitting idly by during dinner. He wordlessly stares at me, minutes at a time. Not in an intimidating way, not even out of curiosit; more like he is offering an extended greeting. If I go to get the cuff too soon, he motions with his eyes for me to sit. He wants to rest more before an accurate reading, or more likely a lower reading will be displayed. Every day I take his pressure. Every day is too high. Every day after the heightened reading, he tries to explain, in Nepali, which treatment he experimented with that day. Today he is walking barefoot. Advice from a shaman in town. The blood pressure was still way too high, but he was grateful nonetheless. Today, or more specifically,
today at 7 pm, like he does every day, he ended the encounter with a "good morning". His palms held together, pointing up, he walked away very proud of himself.
Until next time,
Dan
