“I didn’t know such a child could have life! Here they got good medicine and they really care for children.”
Those words were spoken by a thankful mother just a few days ago. I must admit they came across startling. Yes her little one was sick, and had tumbled through our doors a mess of skinny arms and gasping breaths. Yes she had needed oxygen and some careful fluid management to treat her dehydration in the context of malnutrition. Yes we had to use some solid anticonvulsants, ones which would normally be used in an intensive care unit.
But none of this was particularly complicated. Solid ward rounds offering consistent care combined with a reliable medication supply and some nurses who were on hand to respond quickly should the child deteriorate. Solid bread and butter paediatric care. We did no major surgery, offered medication from an extremely limited choice and could barely control our oxygen flow rates. Yet it was enough. A soccer team doing all the simple things well and moving steadily towards the goal line, no spectacular overhead kicks or tricks.
Some of the dosing may have offended paediatric purists. Our range of blood tests was remarkably small. Sometimes the power went out and the oxygen flow risked being interrupted.
Yet something had touched this mother. Care. Someone had been there when her daughter started seizing, and had moved quickly. Another someone had taken time to work out just the right amount of fluid. Another person knew her and her daughter’s name well enough to recognise how she was getting better, how the treatment was working and how she was steadily opening her eyes to once again see the world.
Sometimes little ones don’t make it through and sadly the last things they see are people trying to bring them back, fumbling with the little we have. Other times they do. Whatever happens, mothers remember how our team made them feel more than even the outcome. This means that when families go home they carry the stories of how their lives were changed, and how someone prioritised them, moving their child to the front of the line and took time from their day to make sure that children got their medication and were actually improving.
And over time this means that more children are brought to the hospital sooner. Once people realise there is hope they are far more like to come quickly, bringing with them children before they reach the point of almost no return. My prayer is that as this continues, little by little more children will be brought earlier, trust continues to grow and people understand what to do when their children get sick.
While we work tirelessly to get the procedures and protocols right for these children, and our compliance with guidelines and mortality rates are easy to evaluate, there is an incredibly high value to place on simply caring compassionately. The impact of simply taking time to look after a child and listen to a mother is hard to quantify yet almost certainly doing this well does more to save malnourished children than anything else. Often this is the first and maybe only time when a child and mother are spoken to kindly. Many of the young mothers especially are abused and hurting when they come through the hospital doors and by being different we can change their entire story.
Us as a staff group, Liberian and International together showing compassion and giving of our time is the most powerful medicine we can give. To help us to care for these children well ,please consider giving through the link below:
