29 January 2014

The Language of Grief

Yesterday, a bit unexpectedly, I found myself wandering through a neighborhood across the street from the hospital.  Normally this would be no big deal, but because this was an unplanned visit in the middle of my workday, I didn't have a head covering with me.

About an hour earlier I had received the news that a three-year-old patient of mine, little A., had died the day before while I was still in Niamey.  I knew I would need to go visit his family; I figured I'd wait until I could change out of my scrubs and put something on my head.

But, as I learned yesterday, when it comes to grief, in Galmi, it matters most that you've shown up.

27 January 2014

Once an OT, Always an OT

Becoming an OT has ruined me forever!

I can’t people watch without analyzing the person’s gait pattern, I can’t walk into a building without noticing its accessibility, and clearly I can’t take a commercial airline flight without doing an ADL toileting session!

RUINED!!  FOREVER!!

20 January 2014

An Apple a Day

The other day, my little pal, F., came back for a checkup [for the rest of her story, click here, here
and here].  I was able to complete the mask that would cover her entire face and forehead; as long as Granny keeps it pulled tight, we should be able to soften the scars that have already formed and prevent new ones over the areas of skin that have recently healed.

When we were all done, I treated her to a piece of candy and Granny to a shiny green apple.

'What on earth is it??' Granny asked as she twisted and turned the piece of fruit, inspecting it's skin.

'An apple,' I stated, using it's French name as I don't know what they are called in Hausa.

'A WHAT?!?!?' she asked.