3-2-1 Discharge!

I was out in Lobatse today and discharged Empho. But before that I gave her some Crayon-like markers with which she colored the accompanying paper, then the floor of the ward, then ate one. Surprised....me? It was hilarious and we were all holding ourselves with laughter. Here come blue poops!

The ward was a touch crowded with kids who have measles, chicken pox, and dehydrating gastroenteritis. As she has free reign of the place, she frequently crawls into the rooms to see what is happening and in the process is exposed. An infectious swamp to be sure. So....for the sake of preventing a nosocomial infection, out she went. It was far from clean and neat as she is to be cared for by the "grandmother of her uncle". Since she will live near a rather remote clinic we indoctrinated the nurse there about how often she should be weighed and seen for follow up. I don't think this will be entirely satisfactory as rumor has it that her brother, 7 y/o, was seen on the street begging for food the other day. So the head matron has her radar on and will yank Empho at the first sign that her grandmother can't keep up with a now willful 2 year old. Who can???

Then it just might be SOS for her and her brother. Who knows. I would have preferred to send her there as she meets two of three criteria for admission; abandonment and abuse. It's unknown if her mother is alive or had HIV. Empho does not. Anyway, ain't my country and this is way above my pay grade. Hope things work out.

Was at SOS the other night and an adolescent girl walked up to me and asked "what is your name?" I replied "Mike" and she immediately scoffed. "You need a proper Satswana name". "OK how about silly goose". She glared. "Well, how about water?". Glared again; you know that thirteen year old girl, eye rolling, "I can't believe this white guy from America is such a doofus" look? "How about earth?" say I. Finger to chin she ponders and then says, "We will call you Empho!" I stifled a rather knowing grin and accepted her moniker. She then used it enough that it became rather un-unique and hilarious at the same time. Adolescents are the same everywhere...... "boundaries, what are boundaries?!

Still can't get used to 40 degree heat here at Christmas time. And yet it's rather festive to be sure. When on the road by myself I usually contemplate what I'll miss about Botswana if and when we leave here. Without a doubt it will the kind and gentle people, the smiles, the laughter, the genuine lightness of heart. There is definitely a widening economic dualism that is expanding with a burgeoning middle class, more concerned with the usual stuff (career, family, cars) than that of their countrymen. I swear I have not seen so many 'Benzes, 'Beemers, Audis, and Range Rovers as here. It makes for rare episodes of envy and self righteousness but the smiles seem to ameliorate it.

I had to be the primary physician the other day in a town that is famous for abusing the doc there. On any given morning about a fifth of the population is queued up and expect "treatment" or sick leave. As I had worked with a strong willed Motswana doc earlier that week who announces each morning that she will be the one that decides about meds and leave and that she rarely gives either, I thought I'd give it a shot. I stood beside a scared nurse who announced that there would be no leave given out that day and that meds would be given only if needed, and that didn't include your desire to have them. The hue and cry was deafening. And after that about half of the assembled crowd stomped off! The day was full of difficult cases that truly needed a doc and not more of the usual somatization and malingering. I don't get that about this culture but again; above my pay grade.

The topography here would remind anyone of the arid west or high Midwest. The flora and fauna are different to be sure. The birds are fantastic. Monkeys, baboons, warthogs, and the ever present cattle-donkeys-goats, can be seen on a trip from Gabs to an outlying area. So on these trips I get to get behind my eyeballs and realize that I have a loving wife of 35 years, a great and grown family that pays it forward, and a great job in an amazing part of the world. I am indeed blessed. Best wishes for Christmas, and Peace.

Who'd a thunk it...

This has been a week to be sure. It began with the usual in the clinics here in Gabs where I do some mentoring and teaching. I had an opportunity to work alongside a great Ethiopian doc who is one of my favorites; inquisitive, sensitive, compassionate. As things wind down toward Christmas, (I must have been the last one to find out that it is now called the "festive season"), indeed this is a predominantly Christian area intermixed with North African Muslims and Indian Hindi, the docs thin out and we are generally under staffed. Even the streets have about half as many cars. Next week and the week after they will become deserted.

I was informed that I can be, or am, too "paternalistic" and that that puts distance between me and some of the MO's in training and some of the BUP docs. It is difficult to know where the line is. I think this dates back to a Monday morning report where we had had 9 deaths over the weekend with 17 admissions. Many of the deaths were reported off handedly and were certified when the patient was "cold and stiff". I looked around and was disappointed that this wasn't bothering anyone or that they weren't speaking up about it. I pointedly raised the notion that this can never be OK. Some of the patients would have died anyway to be sure, but they deserved a physician at the bedside and some could have been saved had they had a doc earlier on in the process. And that the leadership in this had to come from "us" (I was sure to use this term) as it would not come from the nursing service.

But first we had to care. After I finished this rant there was silence. And then the finger pointing began. It was the nurses, the docs, etc. The nurses are used to not having their pages answered so don't call, and the docs claim they are busy in the A and E so they can't respond or that they aren't paged in the first place; a monstrous and emblematic mess. In any case as this came across from a guy my age and since it was pointed it was apparently interpreted as paternalistic. Hell yes I was angry and dumbfounded. Why wasn't anyone else? So deniability is automatically built in if it comes from a "paternalistic old, angry man". I'm still not sure what that means except that I am old enough to be the uncle or father of all the trainees and younger MO's in the health care system, or at PMH, or at BUP for that matter. And dysfunction continues to reign supreme. There are providers and colleagues that are gifted and highly capable to be sure, yet I have found the delivery systems to be increasingly burdensome.

I fear we aren't building capacity (read rehabilitating) here as much as participating in a westernized agenda of rescuing. At this point I have a better idea of what doesn't work that what does. Building relationships is difficult to quantify and yet that is what I do most of time. Never the less in a grant based program it is important to quantify what it is we do. I haven't found the appropriate way to do this and it becomes frustrating to slowly realize that this might not be what I originally signed on for. I have no problem with those that do enjoy this and have a passion for it; it just isn't this aged doc's idea of practice.

And moving back to the States isn't as easy as it might seem. I love and miss my family to be sure. And I love clinical medicine, especially the creative, working without a net part. Things in the US were dysfunctional enough that I felt suffocated. And the pathology often bypasses me or the etiology is based in overindulgence (witness metabolic syndrome). Add that to entitlement and things rapidly stopped being fun and engaging. Here and other places I at least get to do the following:

I was at a district hospital this week and heard about an 18m/o that came in very dehydrated and probably septic. The resuscitation was great; fluids and meds by IO, somehow including D50W in small boluses. I was asked to review the patient and did so. All the MO's dropped by peds and remarked how much better he looked. I thought great until I noticed that he was still breathing rapidly and deeply. By now he should have been back to base line respirations with a pulse that was normal for age. I started to connect the dots in this aged, Lamictal affected brain of mine and asked for a finger stick blood sugar. It came back at 5x normal.

Ohhhhkay now we have a better idea of the what and why. Let's get a quick UA as we can't get a bicarb level, let alone an ABG. The UA indicated a pH of 5 (acidotic) and ketones were 1+ with glucose of 3+; a slam dunk; DKA. So I shipped him to PMH as they have pediatricians and better lab support. Nowhere in the US world of primary care would I have that chance to diagnose DKA with a minimal amount of, or no, lab support. We could have treated it but I had to leave that afternoon and I/we would have needed to check on him q30m. It was a great teaching opportunity, and exactly how can that be quantified? Or, perhaps more to the point, where in the US could I duplicate that?

Time here is flying by as I get to live in the present. I am working with some truly brilliant and gifted docs, for many of whom this represents their first career move or they are in the first 5-10 yrs of their career. I'm not and this is becoming a bit of an issue I fear. Time to wait and see I guess.

Best to all for a festive season!

GREEN

Everything is green! We have had some sustained rains and some hard hail, the size of marbles that dimple a car roof or hood. As a result things are green, damp, and humid. What once was brown is green and all Botswana is glad for it.

One of the interesting things about this place is that it in some way is held hostage to its own lack of food production. Some say that 80% of the food stuffs here are imported. Much of the cereal processing occurs here, much of it in Gabs, but most of the grains are grown elsewhere. The farms that I can see from the air are all subsistence type. We can sustain our own eggs and beef, a LOT of goats, but no significant and sustainable fruits and vegetables. Currently it is kale and cabbage season so much is bought from road side stands (called tuck shops) or harvested at various prisons where it is grown to keep the prisoners occupied.

Yesterday I was rounding on the peds ward at Lobatse (Athlone Hospital), one of my favorite. Recall that this was the place where we had a septic man on the ward and it was met with a touch too much ambivalence to suit me. I had just given a presentation on it and I thought we had this diagnosis well worked out. So onto peds I go to spell the CMO who is up to his "waist" in alligators. First thing I see is an infant with sunken eyes and panting, admitted two and a half days ago with gastroenteritis. She was in deep yogurt to be sure.

We weighed her only to find that she had lost weight since her routine weight 2 wks ago. Starting to sound familiar? She had a temp of 39C, a pulse of >140, and R's of 40. Dehydrated to be sure but truly this was sepsis. She was being hydrated with half strength solution, not the right stuff, and not doing well. I switched out the IV to saline and promptly discovered that her IV site was toast. I tell you I cannot devine how the staff can start IV's on these hypotensive, chubby, African kids. They have the touch and I don't that's for sure. So the nurses brought everything needed for another "cannula" and gave me that "you don't think I'M going to start it do you"? I proceeded to turn this little girl into a pin cushion, finally getting one in her foot.

By now you know the rest of the story; in goes 20ml/kg in a bolus than a flow rate to account for her at least 10% dehydration and baseline fluid needs, and a quick change in antibiotics to get after the things that cause sepsis in kids under 1 y/o. She did her part and promptly fell fast asleep and awoke cooing and hungry. Was a great teaching case in that it so very important to track a daily weight and take accurate intake and output. Oh and diagnose sepsis early and come after it with fluids. A sweet save none the less.

The little girl with marasmus-kwashiorkor is thriving. She is stimulated no end at the nursing station. She is 2 and learning to walk for the first time; and having hissy fits when she doesn't get her way. All of this is to the delight and squeals of laughter from all the adults. She no longer has the "1000m stare" and is engaging with everyone. I held her and she promptly inspected my goatee and arm hair, again to the delight of amusement of the nurses. She might wind up at SOS which is cool in and of itself. Her name by the way is Npo, "gift". Truly.

Rumor has it that she'll be around at Christmas. I probably'll go up there and play with her, show her how to use, hopefully not eat, crayons and generally carry on. Then it'll be over to Mochudi to work in the OPD with the MO on call as the pathology there is always thick and fascinating. And then the next day, I to head to the US!