I’ve
been here 10 days now, and spent last weekend on call at ELWA Hospital, the 55
bed facility that SIM runs just outside Monrovia, Liberia’s capital city. The news here is good – the Ebola epidemic
really seems to be coming to an end. But
in the healthcare setting in particular, its effects will be felt for many
months to come.
To read about Rick's other patients over the weekend, please go to
Doctor's notes: American Ebola survivor back in Africa, dealing with loss
Many
outward changes have been made at ELWA due to the Ebola crisis. All patients, staff and visitors now enter
the hospital compound through a single gate where people must wash their hands with
bleach and have their temperature checked before entry. Bleach is everywhere throughout the
hospital. Staff members with sprayers
wash down the floors multiple times per day and are on hand after surgeries or
other exposures to blood or body fluids to decontaminate staff before “doffing”
their gowns and gloves. Temporary buildings have been erected to house our
outpatient clinic because our old clinic became part of the Ebola Treatment
Unit, ELWA-2. But for the most part, ELWA Hospital is up and running, and most
beds are full.
The new screening entrance to the hospital.
For
me personally the first week was about confronting the reality of death. Many patients die in the hospital—this should
not be a surprise, right? But
emotionally it is a challenge to face mortality so frequently.
We counseled several patients about their metastatic cancer this week, presenting them with the hard information that the cancer had progressed beyond a stage where anything could be done from the medical point of view. We talk with these patients privately, off the busy ward; then, along with the hospital’s chaplain, we pray for them if they wish. The comfort and compassion we offer, along with an honest explanation in plain language, are important hallmarks of the work we do.
We counseled several patients about their metastatic cancer this week, presenting them with the hard information that the cancer had progressed beyond a stage where anything could be done from the medical point of view. We talk with these patients privately, off the busy ward; then, along with the hospital’s chaplain, we pray for them if they wish. The comfort and compassion we offer, along with an honest explanation in plain language, are important hallmarks of the work we do.
To read about Rick's other patients over the weekend, please go to
Doctor's notes: American Ebola survivor back in Africa, dealing with loss
1 comment:
Losing patients has to take a huge emotional toll on a doctor. I wish I'd asked my father how it affected him.
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