Days of Being in Clinic Redux

One morning in the exam room of the clinic, a familiar tune entered the room via the window facing the restaurant next door.  In a town where I never heard English unless someone was intentionally trying to communicate with me, it was quite a shock to hear the recognizable bars of Jesus Culture's "Your Love Never Fails."  Initially, I was certain it was a fluke- the restaurant next door regularly played Afan Oromo songs for its customers, and I reasoned that the American worship song must have slipped into the playlist by accident.  Yet when "Oh Happy Day" played next, followed by the Newsboys' "I Am Free," and Jeremy Camp, I knew the worship songs were no fluke.  Throughout the rest of my weeks working at the eye clinic, the music streaming in from the restaurant next door served as a constant reminder of why I was there in Ethiopia.

 

 Using a slit lamp tonometer to measure a patient's eye pressure

My eye clinic experiences in the second half of the trip were no less remarkable than those in the first half.  One noteworthy case was a man who came in complaining of temporary vision loss in one eye, which led us to suspect he had amaurosis fugax, essentially a mini-stroke in a blood vessel supplying the eye.  On another occasion, an elderly man who had recurring pain in his eye proclaimed that I was a "god-man" after I gave him some anesthetic drops in order to take his eye pressure!  Even though we were only midway through the exam since we hadn't figured out the underlying cause of his pain, the man was ready to leave, having been temporarily cured of his ailment.

A week and a half after the Gambella eye camp, Mario returned to the US to prepare for a new research job at the University of Miami.  The clinic sent him off with a traditional Ethiopian shirt, and Sister Alganesh at the Daughters of Charity compound had him perform the obligatory coffee ceremony before his departure.

 Mario busting a move in his new Ethiopian shirt

 Mario and Peace Corps volunteer Trudie bidding farewell on Mario's last night

In my last few weeks at the clinic, some of the kids of the clinic nurses and assistants began to stop by to visit their parents.  Whether they were playing, climbing mango trees, or trying to help their parents, their presence always made the day just a little more enjoyable.

Ophthalmic nurse Mitiku's son at the top of the mango tree

 

 

 Kids of the clinic staff

 

Mitiku's daughter (Mayti), son (Lanejo), and niece

One evening after clinic, I accompanied Mitiku to the Dembi Dollo hospital, where his sister-in-law was preparing to give birth.  The hospital, which had started as a Christian mission hospital, had in more recent times been taken over by the government.  One doctor there told me most adults were admitted for diabetes, congestive heart failure, and tuberculosis, while many of the children were admitted for pneumonia.  The hospital offered services from baby deliveries to psychiatric counseling to eye care, though they were lacking in doctors in many fields, most notably ophthalmology.  A small wing was devoted completely to ophthalmologic services, but because the hospital could not entice any of the few Ethiopian ophthalmologists to work there, it was manned entirely by an ophthalmic nurse, Sehai, who split her time between the hospital and the eye clinic.

Mitiku's sister-in-law hours from giving birth

hospital cook serving lentil stew on injeera

pediatric unit

In my second to last week in Ethiopia I learned that the eye camp planned for the next week in Kamashi had been canceled because a corruption scandal had landed many of the town's government officials in jail.  Hoping to work with Dr. Samuel one last time before I left, I asked him if I could work with and learn from him at Aira hospital, four hours northeast of Dembi Dollo.  He graciously agreed, and the next day I was zipping along in the Toyota Landcruiser on my way to Aira.