A Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  For me, the pictures I have taken of the children here are something I will cherish for the rest of my life.  Each child has their own story and I know that, years from now, I will be able to look at these photos and the story will be as clear in my mind as it is today.

I’m sorry if I’m sounding overly sentimental.  I’ve been pretty homesick the past few days for the first time since I got here.  I think it’s probably just a halfway slump…I’ve been here long enough to really start missing everyone back home, but I’m not quite close enough to the end to start counting down the days.  On the other hand, I am really sad about the thought of leaving these kids.  I thought when I came here that I was going to work on a different ward each week, but I’ve become so attached to my little patients that I haven’t been able to bring myself to do anything but pediatric rounds.  I even find myself going over in the evenings when I’m bored to see how they’re doing.  It’s probably a good thing that South Africa doesn’t allow international adoptions or I might be coming home with a few extra carry-on items. J

I’m hoping that, with some short descriptions, these pictures and the children in them will move you as much as they do me.

These little boys are my soccer playing buddies that several of you have asked for pictures of.  The one in the bed has a fractured femur, so there’s no kicking for him.  He’s the one that I accidentally “headed” the ball off of the first day so that’s how he contributes to the game.  They are both 7 and think everything I do is absolutely hilarious (which it’s usually not, but it’s nice that they think so!).  It’s especially great to hear the other boy giggle because the first two days he was here, he wouldn’t talk to anyone and cried all day long.  It broke my heart.  We sent him home yesterday and he was a completely different kid than the one who came in…running at me to give me a huge hug before he left.


Bryan’s mom sent him a package that (somewhat miraculously) not only got to the hospital, but arrived while we were still in the country.  It was full of Jayhawk memorabilia…we had to make sure everyone in Manguzi knew which team to root for come March.  There were hundreds of Jayhawk stickers and Bryan gave me the job of passing them out on the pediatrics ward.  Turns out, the kids love them! It’s funny because they don’t really understand the concept of stickers and they all shrieked in amazement when I stuck the stickers on them. Now they want new ones everyday which is probably good seeing as we have an endless supply.


Another apparently fascinating item is the camera.  I brought mine in the other day to take these pictures and the entire room, including the moms and nurses, gathered round.  Everyone could hardly wait to see the picture after I took it…thank goodness for digital cameras.  Then, they all wanted to try taking pictures.  Unfortunately, the concept of seeing what you were taking a picture of on the screen never really seemed to catch on.  Therefore, this picture is actually the best of the series despite the fact that it contains only 1.5 people.  My camera lens probably could have done without so many grubby kiddy fingers on it, but it was worth it to watch the thrill they got out of the “click” of the camera.


I hate to play favorites, but supposing I were to have a favorite, this little guy would be it.  We were best buddies for the week he was on the ward.  The first few days he just played with me when we came into his section of the ward.  The last couple days though, he came toddling to the front door as soon as he heard my voice in the morning and stayed with me for most of rounds.  He was like my little shadow just prancing along behind us.  Every ten minutes or so, he would tap my leg and want to be held for a bit.  I put my stethoscope around his neck yesterday and told the moms that he was the new doctor.  That seemed to put everyone in good spirits, and actually made his mom smile for the first time.

This is the same little guy with his partner in crime who was there for two days.  They are trouble makers!! They were into absolutely everything, including the doctor’s cart.  I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I showed them that if they banged on different parts of the metal cart it made different noises.  So they proceeded to bang on it for the duration of round, and that’s what they are doing here.

This one almost ended up in my suitcase as a stowaway.  You can’t tell from this picture because he was so much better, but when we admitted him he was so dehydrated and malnourished that he looked like Benjamin Button.  It was amazing how quickly he turned around and plumped up once he was getting proper fluids and feedings.  Even when he was sound asleep, if I put my finger near his hand, he would find it and hold on tight until I pulled it away.

Although I have loved every child I have cared for here, this little girl is the one who has left the most profound impression on me.  She, and other children like her, are the reason that I will come back to Africa.  She is the sickest child on the ward and has been here since long before I arrived.  She is seven years old and, except for one or two days that her GoGo (grandma) visited, has been by herself in an isolation room the entire time.  The rooms don’t have toys, or tvs, or books.  Every day, I am in awe of how brave she is.  Of all the injustices I have seen here, the one that is hardest for me to stomach is that there are children who have to die alone.  That’s just not something you see in the U.S. and we are so lucky that is the case. I spend a lot of time with her, just sitting and talking.  It’s funny because we both talk in our own language which the other doesn’t understand, but somehow it is still comforting for us both.  Yesterday, I saw her cry for the first time since I’ve been here.  She was having trouble breathing and got really scared.  Bryan’s mom sent one little stuffed animal Jayhawk to give to a kid, and at this point I decided she definitely deserved it.

I told her (with a translator’s help) that if she could be brave through lunch time, I would bring her a present after lunch.  She looked confused, but smiled.  I wish I had a picture of the exact second I gave her the doll because it was, for lack of a better word, miraculous.  For the next ten minutes, she looked like a happy, healthy child who had lived a normal life.  She made the little Jayhawk fly and dance, and was grinning from ear to ear the entire time.  I told her that the Jayhawk’s job was to take care of her and make her happy.  Somewhere, part of that got lost in translation, and she now thinks the Jayhawk’s name is “Happy.” This turned out to be a wonderful thing though because now, every time I visit her, she is singing to him “happy, happy, happy” “happy, happy, happy.” I have a video of this but the internet here isn’t fast enough to post it.  She is an incredible girl, so please send your good thoughts and prayers her way!

Well, I guess this post turned out to be a picture AND a thousand words, but I hope it gave you all some insight into what my days have been like here.  A child’s capacity for hope and happiness in the face of so many hardships never ceases to amaze me…just one of many reasons why I am so excited to become a pediatrician.