Gospel Chiors and the Jail-house Rock

Warning: post contains needles and medical speak!!

A patient tried to bite me yesterday. It's not a question of poor bedside manner, nor have I been moved to a psych department to administer the happy pills. No; it was my first day on paediatrics. Granted it wasn't unprovolked. If I had the reasoning skills of a three year old and two giants roused me from my feverish sleep to pin me down while a third attempted to stick me full of holes with a giant needle...maybe I might try and make use of my mil teeth as an offensive weapon. Kids are cute, sick kids are a challenge. The world of paeds seems like a possible horizon for me, so I have to see if I have the stomach o torture kids in thier best interests. I didn't get the cannula in, kids are lined by a layer of heathy chub that makes the whole thing a little harder (fortunately the veteran nurses on the ward here hardier and more skilled than me). The rest of the day was good, as I tried to immerse into a completely different set of patients that are maths problems as much as medical ones (drug dosing in kids is by age and/or weight in most cases) and managed to get my first paeds cannula (needle for medications into the veins) into a 12 yr old.
 I've just finished a week under the close eye of another aplty named Dr Shepherd -Helen this time- on female medical ward. For every two great responses to treatment (cue fist-pumping cellebration...internally anyway) there is one frustration, either longing for an investigation that isn't available or a treatment that isn't on hand when needed. The second victim of the blood shortage that I was directy involved in the care of died on my first day of paeds. Their major problem at that momment being a lack of red blood cells, everything else would have been treatable...
 Mecinine out here -from what i've experienced- is a blend of medical accumen and hedging your bets. The leading thoughts being is this malaria or typoid? lets send of tests (that might tak 12hrs at best or completely evaporate -metaphorically- between the patient and the lab at worst) and then treat for both. You've got to roll with the punches (eg. your slightly traumatic tap of an LP* being mistaken for and being tested as blood). Your mind may then wander onto TB and HIV, although we get our fair share of heart failure and diabetes out here. So medical school has at least partially equipped me for this.
 I'm sorry if this reads too much like a portfolio piece so far, the medical refereces are likely to remain limited for the rest of this post.
 This week was the first relatively ordinary week in terms of eveing activity. If such a thing as normal really exists. Friday night is film night in the chapel, which is hilairious. The previous offerings have apparently included the classic hollywood epic 'the ten commandments' partially 'dubbed' into the local language. I say dubbed, the original soundtrack isn't removed, so the actor will start speaking in English, then a few seconds later some one will shout the equivalent in lhukonzo over the top. It's apparently quite disconserting. This week there was no dubbing however. The film was a tour de force of filmaking that was outragously snubbed by the oscars a few years ago. A whistful few know it only as 'the masterpiece', the humble name it goes by otherwise is 'Jouney 2: The Mysterious Island' How Dwayne 'the Rock' Johnson missed out on the best actor nod and his pecks were denied best special effects is a mystery to us all. Okay, so the film wasn't a good one, a half hearted Disney 3D cash in, but the audience made the film. The film was projeted onto the wall in the chapel and the sound piped throught the chapels speakers. The audience was made up of the students of the school of nursing and midwifery and a number of us electivites. The reactions of the students were incredible, wailing with fear as the giant CGI lizard (that was about as convincing a an appology from Lance armstrong) snapped at our irratingly shallow characters, gasping as our lead female fell from a giant bee and reeling with laughter at the capering of the comic relief. The film even got an ovation at the end. This is why cinema is great and will always have a place in this era of home entertainment. Even a dudd like the mysterious island can be redeemed by good company.
 Saturday we climbed up to the MTN and Orange mobile towers, the trio of spires that thrust from the hilltop above kegando. The view of the compound and hospital puts it into better contex and the 360 views of the surrounding valleys is an experience in beholding the beautiful (but oddly, James lacked any mobile reception from orange and missed an incoming call as a result...while almost litterally sitting ontop of the tower). Later that night with little else to do, we were encouraged by the Norwegian nurses (still only my joint second favourite Norwegians you will be glad to know Mrs Brekwoldt) to head down to the chapel to watch chior practice. It was enjoyable to sit and drink in the intersting takes on some modern (and not so modern) songs sung by a chior and played on only a bass and keybord. The rythme section was always the samba metronome on the keyboard (which sometimes comicaly interupts deep, reflective prayers with its jaunty clicking) and the keys tend to be programmed to heavy synths (think the killers or the Chris Stratta version of all songs), the fast songs always seem to be fast and the fast songs slow. (Try 'I wan to see jesus lifed high at funeral pace and you'll get a taste) That said it is never less that earnest. We began as observers. It didn't end that way however. Rob and Keelan (the oxfordians I introduced last time) accidentally joined the chior by entering the wrong door, and when it came to practicing the dance number (there is regularly a Lhukonzo song repleat with a jaunty dance) we joined in too. Unfortunately we impressed them a little too much and we were asked to join the chior, and before we had a chance to really examine the offer it was anounced as official that we were going to perform in the service tomorrow.
 So when the chior (named Echoes of victory) stepped out, so did the mzungus. If hips don't lie as the sagacious Shakera once prophesied, then ours were saying 'we have know idea what we were doing'. One thing can be said, the congregation did wake up when we arrived on the dance floor. We were inundated with congratulations on our skills afterwards, strangely they always laughed when they did. No idea why. Although our dancing remains questionable at best, I for one hope to take up the offer of membership to the gospel chior. This adds two rehearsals to my weekly diary. Should be fun. Maybe I'll pick up some African rhythm.
 The rest of Sunday wasn't uneventful. I discovered the Ugandan way of doing things when I went to visit the prison for part of the prison ministry. As we sat on the bench of the prison that is perched on a hillock that sticks out of the valley floor with the greenery of the valley falling away on shallow slopes in three of four directions, Sam (a fantastic nurse who is also a lay reader at the church) turned to me and asked me to say a few words for the prisoners two. Over the next 2 minutes, i first panicked, gathered my wits together and then tried to mentally hobble together a gospel message. I had two things on my side, the first was the two other talks I've done on Phillipians and Mark (so guess which bits of scripture I quoted, no prizes) the second was that i was being translated. This means that while your words are put into Lhukonzo you can smile and desperately formulate the next part. I think i managed to outline the gospel, touch on original sin and say something about sanctification (the process by which the holy spirit makes us more like JC) which goes to show how scattershot some of it was. However it's the spirit that turns hearts not man, and he used my meagre efforts and a talk that Sam delivered to bring some of the prisoners to faith. 25 men put up their hands when Sam asked who wanted to become a Christian my the end. For those that pray, please pray that they stick to their new proffession and they find a church to learn more)
 Today (skipping monday, which I've outlined above) I headed out on womens health outreach up into the hills of the Rwenzori. The temperatures were hitting the low 30s and I probably reached the top a few stone lighter with the water that was fleeing my body. The clime was worth it for the majestic surroundings, Coffee, Bannanas, Papayas and vanilla pods all in the foreground along our path. The rich lush landscape infront of us, stretching out to the horizon of smoothly curving hills and jagged mountains. This is a country with a weath of natural resources and fertility. The talk was on VVF (birth trauma related complications) and parasitic worms (yeah I know I promised that the medical talk was at an end, and I should have put 'Worms!!' in the title). It was a good hour and a half on the asscent and hour on the descent, my legs were worn and my cheeks were covered by a lingering warmth that I hoped was the feelig of a job well done and not the first warnings of sun-burn...we shall see. So all in all an eventful week. Tomorrow, it's safari and slap up breakfast time on my day off (saturday and sunday are half days of ward work so I haven't had an official one since last monday). Here's to elephants and gorging yourself on western food.


*for the non-medical: LP= lumbar puncture, a sample of the fluid around your spine and a traumatic tap is when you hit some blood vessels on the way. Which is harmless to the patient btw.

Prayer points (for those that pray)
-For the prisoners, that they would come to know the living God and put their faith in Christ.
-For the imminent announcment of my foundation school allocation, that I would put it fully in the Lords hands and be confident that he works all things to my good, not necessarily to my preferece.
-For friendships and relationships with both ugandans and ex-pats.
-For the morale of the medical staff as patients die from preventable causes due to lack of resources or late presentations.

SDG