Holy Moley, Horrific Hospital Stories

Do you ever have those days when you are almost certain you know what you’ll be doing that day? Well, I used to take great comfort in planning out my week, knowing what was going to go down, but since being on the World Race, those days are few and far between. I’ve changed my heart, though, especially being here in Africa, and know that what I think will happen during the day and what will actually happen during the day are two completely different things. This particular day, I went back into my old habits and was banking on the fact that I had made an appointment to get my hair done all day and that getting my hair done was exactly what I was going to do. Of course, this being Uganda…this didn’t happen.

Angela and I showed up to the Pastor’s house to get our weave on and I immediately knew something was wrong with Beatrice, Pastor’s wife. She was laying down on the floor, holding her pregnant tummy, with the saddest face I’ve ever seen her make. One of the church members, Ronny, said he thought Beatrice might have malaria and that the malaria was causing her lots of pain in her stromache. I told Beatrice that we needed to take her to the hospital immediately and she insisted on staying home because a visit to the hospital would be too much money. I finally convinced her and Pastor Joseph we needed to go and so the three of us left Angela and all the hair saloon women at the house while we went to the Mulago Hospital about 30 minutes away. At first glance, the hospital didn’t look too bad. I mean, I had seen my fair share of horrific hospitals in Guatemala and Cambodia, but this one looked fine. That was until we got inside the hospital…

You know how in the movie, “Hotel Rwanda” they convert the hotel into a make-shift refugee camp and there are people boiling water and cooking food over open flames and everyone’s sleeping in the halls and on the ground? Well, that is exactly what the Mulago Hospital was like…only instead of a safe haven hotel in the middle of a genocide, I was at a medical facility with countless people who were living there, praying that one day they would be seen by a medical professional. I asked Pastor, “What are all these people doing on mats, camped out like this??” and he informed me that if you come to the hospital, very sick (dying, in labor, leg cut off, whatever…) but you don’t have the name of a specific doctor and that doctor’s cell phone number AND money upfront in cash, there is no way anyone will see you, much less give you a secondl, waiting and praying that one day they might be able to get the means financially to get the help they desperately need. I was so humbled by all this, and couldn’t help but think about the hospital back home and the Clinic where my parents both worked for so many years, and the office that my mom is still working at, doing Dermatology. “We are so blessed in America,” I thought…”So very blessed, and we don’t even realize it.”

We had to walk all around the hospital, trying to find the doctor Pastor Joseph had called earlier that day and since there were live bodies and dead corpses on guernies on all the elevators, we had to use the stairs which didn’t help with poor Beatrice’s pains. Once we got to the OBGYN wing of the hospital, Beatrice went in to get tested for malaria and HIV (for the first time in her entire life, by the way) and this made all of us a bit nervous. Pastor Joseph and I were waiting outside the lab room listening to a handful of women down the hall in labor, screaming out in pain. I figured these women were on beds, with doctors helping them, and then Pastor Joseph and I walked down the hall and I found that there were four or five women in the hall, giving birth by themselves with no one helping them and the rest of the women were inside the labor unit, actually being tended to by medical workers. I was shocked. There is no way this would ever happen in the States. Doctors and nurses weren’t even looking at the women with blood all over them, screaming out for help in the hallway. I was completely broken and horrified by this. Pastor Joseph looked at me and said, “This is Uganda. This is our life and our struggle.”

Then, Beatrice came out of the lab and said she tested negative for HIV (THANK GOD) and positive with a severe case of malaria. I wasn’t appreciating how the doctor was treating Beatrice. He was rude and short with her and kept saying things like, “We need to have you do an ultrasound next week so we know that you’re actually pregnant still and haven’t lost the baby.” I was shocked. WHY WOULD YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO A PREGNANT WOMAN!?!?!? Are you kidding me??? I immediately interrupted him and said, “You are pregnant and your baby is safe and protect by the Lord, Beatrice. We will have you do an ultrasound but don’t worry, the baby is fine.” My parents and family friends would never treat a patient like that. Ever. And they definitely wouldn’t ever scare a patient for no reason.

Growing up in a family with two physicians as parents and dozens of family friends that are doctors and nurses, I was very well informed on the health care system in the US and more speicifically the state of Colorado. I knew that my parents saw a bunch of Medicaid every week and there are lots of free healthcare programs available for people. I remember hearing about doctor friends of ours doing free clinics for families who couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit. I remember going to the clinic to visit my parents at work or the hospital to visit some loved one who was in there and knowing everything around me was immaculately clean and polished. I thought of health care and I thought of safety, cleanliness and availability.

Now, don’t get me wrong…I know American health care policies are in no way perfect. I know there are people who hate the current health care reform, who are paying too much money on medical bills and who are wanting change. I know people who are for more welfare programs and believe in universal health care. I know people who do believe in free hand outs and are very against universal health care, and want everyone to have health insurance. I know people who want doctors and nurse’s rights to be protected, which I obviously agree with considering who my family is. 🙂 What I’m saying is, even though none of us like what we currently have in America in regards to health care, we still need to be so grateful to God for the amazing blessing that it is. The more I travel the world doing missions the more I realize how good we’ve got it in the United States, and how unbelievably wonderful our lives are there.

A team mate of mine, Nikki Medders, used to be a house parent for pregnant teenagers who were foster kids and every one of those girls was on Medicaid and got hospital care and nice delivery rooms because of the country they live in…and I’m sure they didn’t even realize how well off they had it. I’ve seen the ugly side of health care and the horrors of hospitals and I don’t wish that treatment on anyone. As we were leaving the hospital I said a prayer for every single man, woman, child and family who was there, sitting, waiting and praying to God that they would receive help. What will become of them? Beatrice is so much better now, glory to God and Nikki and I took her to get her first ultrasound EVER (out of five children she’s never had an ultrasound) yesterday and it was such a humbling and amazing experience, but what about the countless other women that are still there pregnant, in labor, or worse?

Please pray for the people in the Mulago Hospital. And please remember to thank God today for living in a country that gives us the freedoms we have, one of them being good health care for all people. To my parents who are amazing physicians, I love you and respect you even more, knowing what I know now. To Marla, Juanita and Kathy who are amazing nurses and second mothers to me, I admire what you do every single day and I love and respect you all so much. To all my health care friends and family members, thank you for caring for your patients and for working as hard as you do for all people.