Baba B

November 17th, 2007

Our everyday view - the desert-like dry-season with its sands and perfectly blue sky.

Working at the clinic, I have gotten to know some of the patients who return for check-ups regularly. The only long-term in-patient at the St. Luke’s Dispensary is Baba B. He had a serious bicycle accident a while ago and started treatment in a large hospital in Iringa. However, the family considered costs in the hospital too high and without notice, took Baba B and settled him at our clinic, some 5-6 hours bus ride from Iringa (it only takes 2 hours by car). I’ve become acquainted with Mama B and some of their adult children who have come from different cities and towns to take care of him. I’ve understood that the B family is from the HeHe tribe and they have taught me some HeHe greetings. It is clear that Mama B is a HeHe by the line markings carved on her face. Baba B is quite fortunate to have such a close family around. However, big and caring family seems to be the case in Tanzania anyways. There is always someone available to take care of another family member when they are in need, such as fostering related orphans, nursing sick family members and housing homeless relatives.

Baba B, in my opinion, is paralyzed and has little ability to respond. Sometimes he speaks a bit, but never to me yet, even though I have visited him everyday when I am at the clinic. He has extremely harsh bedsores on his back and sides. Some sores are healing, but the average size is about 10 cm in diameter. One of the sore is open, infected and almost deep enough to see his bone. Atu, the head nurse dresses his sores every morning. The bed sores, are however really preventable, by moving the patient’s sleeping position often, and the family was advised to do so. After assisting Atu one morning, Atu monitored me in dressing Baba B’s wounds first with hydrogen peroxide, then his medicine the next morning. As I was cleaning his wounds, I understand how hard it is to be a nurse. Emotionally, I knew that Baba B was in excruciating pain, yet I have to keep myself from crying while applying the medicines, pressing on his wounds. Imagine a regular nurse, who sees much more horrible things than this, how to keep oneself sane, caring and professional at the same time?

Baba B reminds me of my grandfather in his last days, very weak and waiting either for a miracle or for just the day that he’d breathe his last. Please pray for Baba B and his family, for encouragement and hope in their time of suffering.