BLOG # 18 Health Care in the bush

Seeing and learning how the health care system works both in Zambia and in Mwange Camp is one of the most frustrating parts of being here. I constantly hear stories of misdiagnosed and mistreated illnesses, of doctors who will not treat patients because of payment issues or cultural differences, or of friends who are seriously sick but will not go to the clinic because they do not trust anyone there. I wish I had more power to improve the conditions here, but all I can do is work as hard as I can to improve the small things I have access to. The following stories from my personal experience cover different perspectives of the health care system here:

Sophi's (our Zambian "mom") dad has been sick for a long time. A week ago the family asked if there was anything I could do to help. He had already been to a traditional doctor and he had been to the Zambian clinic. However, nothing was working to improve his condition. I asked the family a ton of questions, but the answers I was receiving were limited, so I asked to go see him myself. The old man (about 75) looked bad – a strong healthy man only a few months ago was now extremely skinny, weak and hardly eating or drinking. I found out that he has been peeing blood for more than a month; he has not eaten much lately because it makes his stomach uncomfortable, and he has a painful problem with his lower spine. It turns out the clinic just gave him some amoxicillin, which they give EVERYONE here, no matter what they complain of. (Though, I guess we should be thankful that they have that to offer.) It seems the clinics in Zambia only have or offer 1 of 3 things: amoxicillin, malaria medicine or pain killers. Because I don't have access to anything but the clinic, I gave him some vitamins and things that I had with me, but that wasn't much. I hope he improves and either way I will continue to go visit him even if it just gives him hope. It is so hard to know that if he only had access to a more developed health care system, he could likely live for many years to come.

Another horribly unfortunate problem here is that the doctor from the hospital in the main town has not been paid adequately to care for the refugees. Thus, he is now refusing to treat them and there are almost 20,000 refugees in Mwange. Some of the stories I've heard are enough to make you want to scream: a pregnant woman waiting to be seen by the doctor gave birth on the dirt path outside the hospital, and a young girl, who was sexually assaulted in the Camp, could not get her clinical records signed by the doctor and thus she could not pursue her case against her attacker. The doctor did not even have to see this girl, he just needed to sign that she had been seen in his hospital. It's hard to even comprehend that a doctor, who has the time and education to care for these people, would let things like this happen.

While these stories are depressing, it is encouraging to know that in other rural places, health care is not always like this. There are many equally poor areas in Africa and in the world where refugees, poor and the rich alike have adequate access to health care. I just wish I could do more to help here.

I have more stories about health care experiences I've had here that I will write about soon. I know the subject of health care will continue to come up in these blogs throughout my time here because I'm forced to deal with it every day.