For some reason we seem to see a fair number of malnourished kids from this village. The discerning reader will recall that this was the place where I and a nurse resuscitated a child with sepsis. He and his grandfather showed up on the doorstep of the outpost there with initially, no one but moi to get started. And it went (well) from there.
This morning I was again in Lobatse and was asked to do business rounds wherein one rounds on those that need it only as Thursday is a day for the staff to pursue other areas of medicine. The staff there has been reduced to four from ten earlier in the year so they are beat and desperate. I saw a bunch of difficult cases in the male and female wards, maternity, and Tb. We saw a critically ill woman with cryptococcal meningitis (a real bastard when your immunity is wracked by HIV) who was not responding to therapy. When it has been longer than two weeks and the patient is getting worse one needs to think about Tb meningitis. So we started her on ATT and moved on. In the States she would have had a zillion tests and, cynically, the end result would have been the same.
In the process of rounding on her there were about 10 nurses and students watching me (old white dude that I am) and I thought I'd engage them in a conversation about withdrawing care. Well didn't THAT just put a nickel in their collective slots. Away we went; murder, euthanasia, cruelty, and even felony. It is unlawful to withdraw care here, I knew that, but wanted to discuss not adding any additional care. A big time clash of cultures. Most would "do anything" until the patient is "late", satswana for death. It was a great 30min.
Then on to peds. There is a little newborn boy there who was no sooner born then his mother "absconded", leaving the child at the hospital. Every time I'm there I play with him and he, just like Empho, is thriving thanks to the excellence of the nurses. They call him my "son" and are always asking why I don't adopt him. I confess that Lynne would in a blink, not a good idea at our age but never the less a temptation. And it is not only unfair to the child but as I understand it, against the law for a non-Batswana to adopt in this country. And it should be.
While there I was asked to see a 4mo old girl who was from Ntlantle. Her mother was dutifully with her at crib-side. One look and I knew that whatever the admitting diagnosis was, this child was severely malnourished.
It is very important to take an accurate history about food security with each mother or parent equivalent (often the grandmother) of a malnourished child. This child was the caboose in a family of five kids. It is always the caboose that is the most vulnerable in a family with an insecure source of food. After starting our inquiry the mother responded that she ate three times a day and cited what food she ate and when. She described what her kids ate and that they all ate a meal at school. Time for the true art of medicine.
I gently inquired if there were times when she didn't eat because of food shortage. Yes for two days at a time. You could begin to read her body language; despair for herself and her beloved children, fear that her child would be taken from her, and all these conflicting emotions in the context of her own huge protein calorie malnutrition. Makes me tear up just writing this. As she turned away and started to cry, we ever so gently continued. Her mother lived with the family and it was she who got a monthly pension, the only income the family had. The food gaps were two weeks long and she simply felt horrible about it. The nurses took a weight for height (a true coup as this has been a subject of conversation for months) and we found that she was 70% of normal weight for her length, severe malnutrition. More to the point; acute on severe malnutrition.
Now the only way to get to a child, loved and cherished by the mother, is indeed through the mother. We explained to her that she was a good mother, if not overwhelmed, and that her custody wasn't at risk. To which she burst into tears. Man I was shook and still am. A great moment to remind me why I do this. We will feed the mother along with the child and will make sure that food is more available in a better balance. In Sudan the mothers were as beat as the kids so we always fed them up as well and gave them a months supply of food on discharge.
On the way home I was able to reflect on the moment. I am a point of care doc, perhaps not a programmatic one, as intimate care of people is what I enjoy most. The stories, the excitement, the rewards, the victories, the fall flat on your face losses. Gotta get back into MSF again. When?