So we are on our last of 3 days of rest in Arusha. Riders take off on Safaris, but for me Mt Meru looks like an attractive spot.
Kendra's ribs are healing up and although she hasn't been up to riding her bike yet, she also likes the look of Mt Meru. We're chopping up the tomatoes and cucumbers together at the lunch spot and we hatch a plan. Up and down Mt Meru in 2 days (normally a 3 day trip).
Kari and Jorg decide they want to come along aswell. We arrive in Arusha, organise some food, grab some dinner, pack our bags. First thing in the morning we're ready to head off on our hike.
The first day we hike up to the second hut (this takes a lot of convincing for the ranger that has to accompany us). It's a gorgeous spot. Down the bottom we see giraffes, zebras, warthogs, buffallo. A little higher we find some colobus monkeys. The vegetation gradually changes the higher we ascend.
We walk above the clouds.
Day 2 our plan is to wake at 3am and continue on to the summit, and then descend the entire way the next day.
3am arrives. Rain rain rain - go away!!! The rain is not the end of the world but because there is also thunder and lightning about we decide that perhaps ascending is not the best idea. Instead we sleep for another hour and a half. Then we hatch a plan to summit Little Meru instead (the smaller of the two peaks), and descend back and check out some more animals. We still ascended and descended 2000m... not a bad effort!!!
I love giraffes - I don't know how any animal can be so disproportionately elegant. Even when they run they do it elegantly - I think I could sit and watch a giraffe for hours!!!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Isiolo hospital
It's been a while since my last post and a lot has happened... a few weeks ago now some of our clients encounted a nasty experience with shifters. For us as staff it sure wasn't an easy day ensuring everyone made it to camp safely.
So the day of the attack I was riding morning sweep - this means I'm last to ride, I have one of the three satellite phones in my backpack aswell as a first aid kit. There's another satellite phone at the lunch truck, and another in the runabout vehicle which is often ahead at camp.
I'm riding along, frustrated because I have dodgy back wheel (hubs wearing out, spokes are having issues, and I have somehow managed to bend the rim aswell) - i killed one of my slick tyres so now I am riding with a knobbly tyre on the pavement.
Up ahead of me I see James riding back towards me. Something must be wrong.
"Claire do you have the sat phone on you? You need to call Sharita" His words are rushed, he's out of breath. I calm him down and get more details. He tells me there's been a robbery up ahead, people have heard gunshots over the other side of the hill and people are scared for their own safety about continuing over the hill.
I am confused - I don't know how people hearing gunshots over the hill equate to a robbery. I pull out the sat phone and give the boss a call. She says that there is a military base up ahead and maybe it is just training.
James tells me people are waiting on the otherside of the hill, so I keep riding onwards until I catch up with the last 10 cyclists.
Then I learn that at least 3 cyclists have been held up at gunpoint. Shots were fired. No one has many details. I give the boss another call - she's already at the police station getting some police escorts in our car and military guys and heading back towards us.
One of our dinner trucks which had broken down catches up with us. Gabe jumps out and tells me someone has been shot. We don't know who. We know they have been taken to the nearest medical centre but no idea of their condition. I make another call to the boss.
We make a plan - the riders and bicycles are bundled onto the truck. The stage is over. No one will lose their EFI because of today. We make it to the next village where more riders have stopped.
6 riders have robbed - they have had mostly food and water stolen, but also some USD and cameras aswell.
The sat phone is ringing and it's Paul - he wants to know what's going on but everyone's trying to talk to me at the same time and I'm still trying to find out what's going on. I tell Paul I will call him back and he's very unimpressed.
Patrick tells me I must go and see Kendra. I give the sat phone to Gabe and tell him he must firstly call Sharita (who was requesting 5 minutely updates) and then call Paul at the lunch truck and let him know what's going on.
"Kendra has been shot?" I ask him.
"no it's just a rock they think" he tells me. "but she's been coughing up blood"
So Patrick takes me to see Kendra (Kendra has given me permission to share this story).
I am very relieved to see her sitting up and smiling and looking perfectly well. She has a small puncture wound on her chest. She tells me someone threw a rock at her straight in the chest, another person threw a spear which thankfully flew over her shoulder, a few moments later someone fired a rifle. The first thing I do is send Patrick back to Gabe to ask him to phone Sharita and tell her that no one has been shot and everyone is stable.
Kendra has some bruising, but mostly I'm concerned about the fact that she has coughed up a very small amount of blood shortly afterwards which would indicate some kind of lung trauma. She is thankfully in a stable condition. Another rider is also at the little medical clinic with a small amount of blood trickling from her ear - the wound from the butt of a rifle which she had pushed up against the side of her face.
Sharita eventually pulls up with the landcruiser and a few military guys. We organise for the remaining riders to be bundled into vehicles and taken to camp. Some of the riders that have already made it to lunch continue riding. Everyone has been accounted for.
We take Kendra to Isiolo hospital (really just wanting a chest x-ray) and check out the local Emergency department. It's a little cleaner looking than Moyale hospital at least. But still - some of the basic things we take for granted back home (like having oxygen and suctioning equipment on standby at the end of each bed) are still missing.
The person who sells the x-ray tickets is on their lunch break (which goes for two hours) so we hang out at the hospital for a while. Eventually we get the x-ray, and thankfully there's nothing serious on there (maybe a broken rib, but no major lung trauma).
At the end of the day I think everyone knew that we were lucky that no one was more seriously injured.
So the day of the attack I was riding morning sweep - this means I'm last to ride, I have one of the three satellite phones in my backpack aswell as a first aid kit. There's another satellite phone at the lunch truck, and another in the runabout vehicle which is often ahead at camp.
I'm riding along, frustrated because I have dodgy back wheel (hubs wearing out, spokes are having issues, and I have somehow managed to bend the rim aswell) - i killed one of my slick tyres so now I am riding with a knobbly tyre on the pavement.
Up ahead of me I see James riding back towards me. Something must be wrong.
"Claire do you have the sat phone on you? You need to call Sharita" His words are rushed, he's out of breath. I calm him down and get more details. He tells me there's been a robbery up ahead, people have heard gunshots over the other side of the hill and people are scared for their own safety about continuing over the hill.
I am confused - I don't know how people hearing gunshots over the hill equate to a robbery. I pull out the sat phone and give the boss a call. She says that there is a military base up ahead and maybe it is just training.
James tells me people are waiting on the otherside of the hill, so I keep riding onwards until I catch up with the last 10 cyclists.
Then I learn that at least 3 cyclists have been held up at gunpoint. Shots were fired. No one has many details. I give the boss another call - she's already at the police station getting some police escorts in our car and military guys and heading back towards us.
One of our dinner trucks which had broken down catches up with us. Gabe jumps out and tells me someone has been shot. We don't know who. We know they have been taken to the nearest medical centre but no idea of their condition. I make another call to the boss.
We make a plan - the riders and bicycles are bundled onto the truck. The stage is over. No one will lose their EFI because of today. We make it to the next village where more riders have stopped.
6 riders have robbed - they have had mostly food and water stolen, but also some USD and cameras aswell.
The sat phone is ringing and it's Paul - he wants to know what's going on but everyone's trying to talk to me at the same time and I'm still trying to find out what's going on. I tell Paul I will call him back and he's very unimpressed.
Patrick tells me I must go and see Kendra. I give the sat phone to Gabe and tell him he must firstly call Sharita (who was requesting 5 minutely updates) and then call Paul at the lunch truck and let him know what's going on.
"Kendra has been shot?" I ask him.
"no it's just a rock they think" he tells me. "but she's been coughing up blood"
So Patrick takes me to see Kendra (Kendra has given me permission to share this story).
I am very relieved to see her sitting up and smiling and looking perfectly well. She has a small puncture wound on her chest. She tells me someone threw a rock at her straight in the chest, another person threw a spear which thankfully flew over her shoulder, a few moments later someone fired a rifle. The first thing I do is send Patrick back to Gabe to ask him to phone Sharita and tell her that no one has been shot and everyone is stable.
Kendra has some bruising, but mostly I'm concerned about the fact that she has coughed up a very small amount of blood shortly afterwards which would indicate some kind of lung trauma. She is thankfully in a stable condition. Another rider is also at the little medical clinic with a small amount of blood trickling from her ear - the wound from the butt of a rifle which she had pushed up against the side of her face.
Sharita eventually pulls up with the landcruiser and a few military guys. We organise for the remaining riders to be bundled into vehicles and taken to camp. Some of the riders that have already made it to lunch continue riding. Everyone has been accounted for.
We take Kendra to Isiolo hospital (really just wanting a chest x-ray) and check out the local Emergency department. It's a little cleaner looking than Moyale hospital at least. But still - some of the basic things we take for granted back home (like having oxygen and suctioning equipment on standby at the end of each bed) are still missing.
The person who sells the x-ray tickets is on their lunch break (which goes for two hours) so we hang out at the hospital for a while. Eventually we get the x-ray, and thankfully there's nothing serious on there (maybe a broken rib, but no major lung trauma).
At the end of the day I think everyone knew that we were lucky that no one was more seriously injured.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Moyale Hospital
The other day I had the privilege of escorting a sick Mzungu (Swahili for white man) to the nearest hospital as we felt he required pathological testing that we weren't able to diagnose from the mobile TDA nurse and paramedic run clinic/lunch truck. I'm not going to share anymore details about his illness here as I have an ethical obligation to patient confidentiality but I will state that he is back to his normal self and there is absolutely no need for anyone to be concerned.
The sick Mzungu scored a 4 hour hospital admission to Moyale Hospital and the African health care system really hit me hard. I had an awareness that the health system was poor, but it's not until I saw it up close with my own eyes that it really made an impact.
There are two other men sharing the same room as the Mzungu. One speaks pretty good English and I learn the he has Malaria. He looks to be roughly the same age as me. The other is much younger - 14 maybe. He is very sick. I try and find out what's wrong with him and the man with Malaria tells me he has a sore throat and hasn't been able to eat for 3 weeks - but I know there must be more to it than that. He has IV fluids running. No one seems to care about taking a set of vital signs. His lungs sound terrible - he has a death rattle. His body is emaciated. Around him are his family who sit him up so he can breathe better. He vomits into a bucket, passes urine into the same bucket. There aren't many nurses. His family take the bucket away and wash it out.
The hospital is not very clean, everything is old, the assessment equipment is very basic. I'd be surprised to find a cardiac monitor, a defibrillator, a blood gas machine or any of these basic essentials that you would expect to find in a hospital at home. There's people sick with Malaria, yet no mosquito nets.
As I ride my bike through the countryside I notice that the people aren't old. 40 is considered old for the people that live in these parts of the world.
I clamp the Mzungus IV fluids myself when the bag empties because there is no one else around. He's doing ok and I think we can do a better job looking after him on the lunch truck after all. Time to push for a discharge.
The sick Mzungu scored a 4 hour hospital admission to Moyale Hospital and the African health care system really hit me hard. I had an awareness that the health system was poor, but it's not until I saw it up close with my own eyes that it really made an impact.
There are two other men sharing the same room as the Mzungu. One speaks pretty good English and I learn the he has Malaria. He looks to be roughly the same age as me. The other is much younger - 14 maybe. He is very sick. I try and find out what's wrong with him and the man with Malaria tells me he has a sore throat and hasn't been able to eat for 3 weeks - but I know there must be more to it than that. He has IV fluids running. No one seems to care about taking a set of vital signs. His lungs sound terrible - he has a death rattle. His body is emaciated. Around him are his family who sit him up so he can breathe better. He vomits into a bucket, passes urine into the same bucket. There aren't many nurses. His family take the bucket away and wash it out.
The hospital is not very clean, everything is old, the assessment equipment is very basic. I'd be surprised to find a cardiac monitor, a defibrillator, a blood gas machine or any of these basic essentials that you would expect to find in a hospital at home. There's people sick with Malaria, yet no mosquito nets.
As I ride my bike through the countryside I notice that the people aren't old. 40 is considered old for the people that live in these parts of the world.
I clamp the Mzungus IV fluids myself when the bag empties because there is no one else around. He's doing ok and I think we can do a better job looking after him on the lunch truck after all. Time to push for a discharge.
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