Sunday, October 17, 2010
Wrist Band Color Meanings
The good intentions of Luke - Chronicle of experience in Uganda
Today we welcome with great pleasure and admiration the excellent intentions of the doctor Luca Astarita, specializing in pediatrics. Luke chose Uganda for a period of training, then finish in Naples.
not deny the love I feel for Lucas for many years (no longer say how many !!!). But this time is objective admiration for an experience that will serve him, to his current and future young patients.
The answer is very simple: there is no doubt. Already considering "only" the human and personal growth, which we are discussing, worth it ... then maybe it is true, of malaria, HIV or meningitis in Italy do not see much, but I think being a doctor is not that.also because a doctor does not know any medicinehere are dying of things with a minimum of will of those counts would be 90% avoidable. Because everything here is due to anything but here is a concession. Why does anger when a child dies in Italy, makes the headlines, but here is something "normal." A child is the same everywhere or am I wrong?. What I find here was faced with difficult situations, doubtful diagnosis, children critical. And what 'm learning is the ability to make decisions , who knows maybe wrong, and be confronted with a problem thinking what is the best way to solve it. Learning to think in this way training is probably much more knowledge and very specific "scientifically advanced" "I can find in Italy . Hear then my colleagues and read what I write does nothing but reinforce my ideas. The usual complaint continues. Almost no one satisfied with what he does. A university that instead of giving incentives as it should does is remove them, even those who are most gifted. I'm here I have a lot of stimuli, perhaps too well."doctor This mother wants to know if you can 'ask you something "obviously
of course there are difficult times ... The event that most impressed me since I came here took place about one month prior to departure: a nurse timidly approaches me while I ride,say" sure ", and call one of the interns to translate; " My son is in the Oxygen room, not breathing, you may see it? ". The child breathes, but it is not difficult to understand that not actually very little between breathe any more ... Resuscitation strangely or not work, or rather mask, ball, oxygen and heart massage the heart recovers. With the small problem that the child is in a coma, totally unconscious, the pupils are fixed and dilated, unresponsive to light. Practically a trunk. We call the resuscitation and transfer to intensive care (which here is a room like all the others, but there are single beds and mechanical ventilators). I do not want, perhaps rightly so. He will die soon anyway and the brain is gone. You can not occupy a bed for a case like this.This is a summary of the day so far for me has been the most difficult. As difficult for went to the mother as set itself, almost as we did a favor to visit the child. WhyPerhaps you may think I exaggerate, that after so goes the world and we can not feel guilty for these things. All very true and also I think, but living them is different. Try for one second to switch roles. YOU with your child in terms criticism, you have to ask a doctor for a visit. But you'd be aware that there is another part of the world where such a thing would never happen, your child in that state there would not even arrived. YOU a thing simply could never accept. The mother looked at us aware that there was almost nothing to do.I'm aware of the Acholi people (is more correct to say that I'm aware of Ugandans, as various tribes living here in Uganda, which does not have much in common, starting with the language and traditions) mussel and what is the most jarring of a culture West trying to impose itself, but that inevitably goes to conflict with centuries, millennia of history
. Why? An example, religion. Here is a very strong presence of the church and almost all say they are Catholics. Go to Mass and celebrations are a focus. Some time ago I was at home (of course I mean the house of mud and straw hut) of a mother who had just lost twins born extremely premature at the hospital. He had invited me and a nurse in Austria. The hut is quite simply divided by a wall: you can sleep behind the wall in front is like a "living room". Here, this part of the house was completely covered with images of Jesus, Our Lady, the Pope and of many others. At the same time I felt my mother (a person is educated, speaks English and studied in Kampala) say that it was due to go to his village of origin and do not know what tribal dance on the grave of the children, that one year after death he would go back there and repeat other processions because otherwise the souls of the children would not immediately know what torments. Then she told us that he would have wanted but could not run away from home. The reason was that her husband had told her that he was already married and now she was (legally) the second wife. He lives together with the other, with which they are not very good terms, but nYou can not leave because it would be a shame for her and her family, unless it is him to hunt, because that tradition.In a place like that I had a strong impression that the man should not have been born so far from there, with little problem (or advantage, depending on your point of view) that he had not made many steps forward. "
.... Some time ago, but I was with helium, one of the monks Comboni, in Karamoja, a region in northeastern Uganda. One reason for warriors, where until a few years ago were walking around barefoot (or with spears and rifles), but now they are obliged by law to wear at least some blankets. Where have several tattoos all over his face, according to the tribe, and I think the 'level'.
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