In February I was feeling a bit unwell, my stomach was quite sore and we had a training planned in Kigali (the capital) so I went down a day early hoping to see the doctor in the morning before our training started at 1pm. I never made the training, and I write this blog - not from Rwanda but the UK whilst I recover from surgery, having travelled to another country to get it.
That morning (February 12th), I awoke with stomach ache as was becoming usual and sat at the breakfast table with the other volunteers, discussing how best to get to the doctors (and by best I mean cheapest!) when my stomach ache increased ten-fold. I rushed back to my room but could do nothing but writhe in pain and make a quick mobile phone call to another volunteer to come and help me. Sarah (otherwise known as the first nurse) and Simon (my housemate - otherwise known as the second nurse) plus the owner of the guesthouse, managed to carry me to the taxi and get me to the best private hospital in Rwanda where I was promptly put into a bed in A&E. They couldn't control the pain I was in and they couldn't touch my abdominal area without putting me in more pain so they did what any respectable hospital would do, and put me through every possible test they could. Ultrasound - impossible - they couldn't touch me without agony - they said definitely my appendix was ready to pop and I needed surgery. X-Ray - they never told me. So it was settled, confirm appendicitis with a CT - and while I waited they finally gave me the good painkillers - the room span - and I think they could have done anything and I would not have cared at all - I was pain free for the first time that day, it had taken 6 hours. During the CT scan the electricity went off, twice, so it took a while to do, do again and re-do! But it was confirmed as I emerged from the donut of the machine that the consultant surgeon would operate on me along with his post-graduate colleagues - all standing dutifully in line next to him. Just one small trip to the gynecologist to ensure that there were no problems there before the prep for surgery began. When he gave me the second ultrasound with all four other doctors in the room, and told me I wasn't pregnant (Yes- I told you- would be the immaculate conception-but hey my middle name is Mary) there were not signs of ectopic pregnancy or anything else, I didn't care (too high) - I thought they would whip out my appendix and all would be well with the world. So as I lay back in A&E waiting to be admitted and the same doctor who told me it was definitely surgery returned to advise me that he'd looked again at the CT and actually, surgery wasn't required, you can see here on the pictures - as all the lights in the hospital went out - but we will admit you overnight and do some more testing tomorrow, you look a lot better now, again, I wasn't fussed. That night I had a visit from a group of volunteers (YEY!) and I was released the next day after tests confirmed there was nothing actually wrong with me that a short course of antibiotics couldn't cure.
That Sunday I woke about 3am in agony again. I texted Simon at about 5am that I wasn't well and we called for help. Unfortunately the ambulance service was not available at that time (thank God it wasn't a heart attack!) so I waited for someone to drive from the Capital city to the mountains and drive me back to the hospital again. I was admitted again, initially in the children's' ward as there were no beds anywhere else in the hospital, and later on (close to ten pm) moved to a side ward in Renal Unit with one girl next to me. Again my pain wasn't manageable and the staff found my allergy to Onions hard to deal with and I didn't get much to eat - I can't complain though, as most hospitals in Rwanda do't provide food at all and families are outside under big tents cooking for their loved ones three times a day. I can't lie and say I was fine, it was agony and I had a short period of time in a Hypoglycemic coma after which, the medical insurance people decided to air ambulance me to the closest hospital they knew was good - Johannesburg - South Africa. I have to thank Jane, another volunteer for coming to visit me in Rwanda and help me get prepared for that flight, she made me laugh a lot in the little room and things happened a lot quicker when she was there for support! I also have to thank the family of the girl I was laying next to for a week. She (I'm sorry I don't remember her name), a 17 year old young lady in renal failure, could not afford the flight and treatment somewhere else in the world which the best hospital in Rwanda was unable to give her. Her mum stayed every night and all day (apart from a few hours out) and lots of her friends and family came to visit, including a large proportion of the Catholic community who prayed and sung around her bed. Her mum alerted the doctors that there was something wrong when I went into the coma and if she had not been there, then I probably wouldn't be here. She also helped me back and forth to the toilet and washed my hair when it was disgusting! I pray that God looks after them all. The old chestnut of 'there's always somebody worse off' really kicked in at the hospital in Rwanda. The care may not have been at a standard that I am accustomed to having in hospitals in Europe but the doctors and nurses there, do their best with what they have and experience like this bring home how much support is needed from outside agencies to raise medical care standards in developing countries.
Cut to an interesting flight in an air ambulance to Joh'burg involving a ketamine shot and the next 5 days in intensive care. Another whirlwind of drugs and procedures which is all a bit of a blur in which I'm sure I heard doctors discussed how they couldn't save me and I was lucky if I'd make the week, however I'm still here so it was obviously the pain killers talking! I was greeted on the first night by a staff member of VSO SA who was also amazing and brought me lovely things to help get me through being so ill, so far away from everybody including a mobile phone so my parents and I could talk! I had my ipod on to try and counter out the machine noises and couldn't really distinguish when Radiohead came on...
More tests and finally they decided to operate to see what was going on inside me with a laparoscopy. Two one cm holes in my belly button and abdomen later and bloating which made me look 7 months pregnant and they had removed a large cyst. I was transferred to the ward for a week along with a couple of other ladies - one from Mali who had been air-ambulanced there under equally terrifying conditions and another from the UK who had moved to live in SA. Such is my worldwide network of friends that someones aunty came to visit me and bring more magazines, which I didn't really read until I left the hospital. However, she didn't come on a good day and the three of us were all hanging off the sides of the bed jibbering under the affect of the prescribed drugs, but I have to thank whoever she was for the kind gesture, and Amy for linking up with her from the UK. I dutifully trotted round the hospital with the physio to get me back on my feet whilst enjoying both new music recommended by mates: Kate Tempest: The Beigeness and playing old music videos from Rwanda to cheer up not only my ward mates, but even the staff had a little dance: Sitya Loss - Eddy Kenzo.
I then went on to a medical hotel - where people coming to and from surgery stay until they are able to fly. The first time I have sat by a pool and not wanted to go in at all! Then - another first - class flight to the UK, probably the only time I will experience this in my life. Unfortunately I couldn't appreciate all the finery first class has to offer in my post surgery state. I also now know how difficult it is for people in wheelchairs to get about the airport and plane. Since then I have been relaxing and recovering at home. Followed by more rigorous testing by the NHS to which I am incredibly grateful for giving me a proper diagnosis and ruling out and further surgeries, cancers etc.
So I've been home since the 23rd of March, in that time, I got to see my 89 year old grandma and pray with her for the last time followed by a reading at her funeral service. After not much of a response for the last 10 years, having her open her eyes, give a big grin and mouth along to the Lord's prayer with me was a true blessing, as is her passing on to better things. I was also home for my birthday for the first time in 14 years, so we hired a hot-tub for the back garden and enjoyed the BBQ food and fun and laughter of friends and family.I now await my flight back to Rwanda on Friday to end my contract. What can I say but...
...it's been emotional. I am so thankful and blessed for everyones love and support all the time, they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I am testament to that. Thanks and praise!
In loving memory of D M Marshall 1925-1915
