Sunday 8 July 2012
THE BIRTH OF SCARLETT
I remember clearly the first time that Katy experienced the reality of childbirth. She was 15 years old at the time. I had been working as a midwife for several years at Acuario, which at that time was the only and pioneer natural childbirth clinic in Spain. Acuario gave childbirth back to women at a time when medicalized/hospital birth was not only the ‘norm’ but highly recommended as the only safe way to deliver a baby. I had already birthed my first three children in my own home when I met with the Acuario team so was not in need of any convincing that child birth belonged to women, belonged to parents, childbirth was a normal physiological process and in most cases was much better carried out with the attendance of a well qualified midwife in a conducive environment, a homely environment, whether that be the mothers actual home or somewhere like Acuario.
I spent many years working ‘on-call’. My services would be required at any time day or night to attend births at Acuario or in women’s’ own homes. I was almost always ‘on-call!’
Christina (not her real name) was just 15 years old; she was the teenage daughter of a work colleague. She had hidden her pregnancy for as long as she could but when finally it became impossible to hide any longer she told her mum and came to see us at Acuario. I first met her in the scanning room. I remember touching her abdomen and commenting that I felt she was at least four weeks more than diagnosed by the Ultra Sound Scan. I still rely strongly on my abdominal palpation skills over USS when the first scan is carried out in an advanced gestational age. In those few minutes I connected to Christina in a special way, she was the same age as my own daughter; she could have been my daughter. During the short time that remained of her pregnancy we met many times and I promised I would be with her when she delivered her baby. The call came early one Saturday morning. I was at home with my children. I don’t even remember why she came with me ..…but Katy came with me.
On arriving at Acuario and entering the delivery room I found Christina laboring in the warm water of our birthing pool. She was accompanied by her mother and a colleague of mine was also present. Katy came too. She sat discreetly on the rocking chair in the corner of the room and witnessed the whole experience. Christina was laboring well. Her contractions were coming fast and strong and I could see that she was close to pushing her baby out. The whole atmosphere in the room was of love and caring. Supported by her mother, other friendly familiar faces and a well experienced midwife (myself) she confidently rode the waves of pain and turbulence to receive her new baby into the world amidst the smiles and tears of those around her. Katy was there.
I don’t actually remember talking with Katy after the experience, although I’m sure we did, but I do remember years later overhearing a conversation she was having with a friend about childbirth and in relating the birth of Christina’s baby was heard to say:
“….afraid of childbirth? Oh no!....If she can do it like that at 15 years old…I certainly can!”
In our household my children were well used to hearing all the details of the births I had attended, especially the home births and the many very special and beautiful experiences that women were having as they received their sons and daughters into the world with my professional help, guidance, care and love. I don’t think I ever discussed childbirth at home in any other way than as a wonderful, incredibly powerful experience that was totally within the innate instinctive capacity of the female mind and body. A ‘good birth experience’ was totally achievable by the majority of women. It was women’s numerous fears and anxieties that are directly interfering in the birthing process. Healthy,confident, secure, instinctive women who believe in themselves and their bodies, in the whole process of reproduction were more likely to have a successful, positive, uncomplicated experience. I spoke as a midwife who had accompanied so many women and parents through childbirth but also as a mother who had birthed her own four children in the comfort and ‘normality’ of her own home. I spoke always with confidence and security so I suppose this was what my children received during their childhood and formative years.
So the way was firmly set for my eldest daughter, as she approached her own decision as to where and how she would birth her own child. Katy had always referred to me being present in the birth of her children, but I certainly never took it for granted, so when the day came and she announced the news of her first pregnancy I waited patiently and silently for her decision. I think she just took it for granted that I knew I would be there, not only as her Mum but as her midwife. I was anxious to ensure that the decision was also supported by my son-in-law Nick. I needn’t have worried as he expressed very clearly that he would only feel secure in having the baby at home if I was present.
I guess that if it wasn’t enough to have accompanied so many women in labour and received so many babies into the world during my 15 years working with Acuario not only in the birthing center but also numerous home births I now had 4 years experience in Malawi delivering babies under extremely challenging circumstances with very little back up in the way of medical staff or equipment. These years of being part of the wonder of natural birth and the power and strength of women without option of pain relief or epidurals with only the most basic materials and equipment and lack of true vigilance and accompaniment during labour and birth has all led to reinforce my convictions and beliefs that we women have amazing bodies and souls that are designed beautifully for caring for our children both in and out of the uterus. That babies are strong and determined, hardy souls fighting for survival even before they are born The female body works…. babies are born safe and well and mothers are washing their own soiled cloths just one hour after birth and walking long distances to their homes 24 hours later. It never ceases to amaze me. Of course it doesn’t always work; childbirth has always carried its risks. Vigilance, awareness and the appropriate skills and actions in the case of sudden emergency situations, are vital for safe outcomes, for saving the lives of mothers and babies in any environment but especially in my work in Malawi.
During Katy’s pregnancy I was often asked by amazed colleagues and friends how I could feel comfortable attending my own daughter during childbirth? My answer was clear. How could I possibly NOT attend her? I have accumulated so much knowledge and experience over the years that I knew had helped so many women, as well as all that I had felt and learned during the births of my own four children, how could I not share this with my own daughter, to help her? I am her Mum…I am a midwife.
I wasn’t able to be physically present with Katy during her pregnancy as I was still in Malawi but I followed it closely with frequent photos and phone calls. I would like to have been around more but I needed to keep all my holidays to ensure I would be present for the birth. It was sometimes difficult to be so far away especially when she was feeling low or sick or just needed some advice. With telephone calls and e mails I would talk to her of the pregnancy, of the birth, answer her questions and reassure her of her ability and capability as a woman and as a mother. I was happy to hear of her visits to the midwives who supported her decision to home birth. I was happy to hear of her NCT meetings where both she and Nick were able to freely discuss their feelings and decisions and continue to feel supported. I was happy to hear that Nick was supporting her, caring for and loving her as together they approached the moment when they would receive their little one into their family.
The baby was due around 16th December. I confidently booked my flight to arrive in London on 10th. Somehow I knew this would be fine. Once she knew I was in the UK Katy was anxious for me to be close so on 14th December I saw my first born, MY baby, with her beautiful swollen belly, carrying her own baby. What an amazing moment that was!
The following days past quickly and comfortably as we filled them with preparation not only for the baby but for Christmas. My younger daughter was with us much of the time excitedly, lovingly, supporting her big sister. As her due date came and went Katy began to experience those impatient feelings known to each and every heavily pregnant mother. We made bets on when the baby would arrive whilst Katy waited for those first signs of labour. She was waiting to feel pain, that’s such a good thing!
I vaguely remember hearing movement during the night as Katy began to feel the first discomfort of labour and started to move around her bedroom. By 5.30am I was awake and knew that labour had started but I stayed in my bed reading my book and awaiting her call. At 7am. she and Nick went downstairs. I could hear Katy retching and vomiting so decided it was a good time to see if I was needed. “We were just going to call you!” Katy exclaimed. She had been having mild contractions since around 2am. They had been gradually increasing in strength so she decided to get up from her bed and find more comfortable positions. All was well…. Nick was with her holding the bucket, holding her hand and giving her the love and comfort that she needed. She had the Tens machine attached to her lumbar area which seemed to be helping but now she needed to have an idea of the progress of labour. After a quick hug and words of encouragement I put on my midwife hat and performing her first vaginal examination found that she was 2cms dilated. All was well… the baby’s head was well down in the pelvis and the cervix was thin and soft, just ripe for a smooth transition into the active phase of labour. I had brought my small ‘doppler’ along so we were all able to listen to the strong healthy heart beat of the little one inside as she too rode the turbulence of the uterine contractions that were slowly but surely facilitating her descent and passage into the outside world. Most of this time Katy was sitting or lying over her birthing ball, rolling her pelvis to aid the descent of her baby which gave her relief from the increasing discomfort as labour progressed. Nick was always close by whilst I preoccupied myself with my own things, remaining close, but lovingly distant. Katy was coping extremely well. Her positive attitude, full understanding of the process of labour, her self-assurance and confidence in the strength and ability of her body to birth her baby were highly evident. As a mother I loved and cared for her with words of praise and encouragement, as a mother who knows her daughter Katy is a strong, capable and decided woman and that her body is naturally able to birth her child safely. As a midwife it was evident to me that the labour was progressing well, the baby was in good condition and the mother was in her chosen environment with the support of the persons of her choice. All was well…. Katy understood that she was still in the early phase of labour and needed to save her energies for the later stages. She took comfort from the use of the TENS machine or the back massages, the small distractions and nutritive snacks provided by Nick and the security of her own home, her chosen midwife, her beloved husband and her mum.(That’s just two people!) Around 11am Katy needed to find a new way to cope as the contractions increased. It seemed a good time for her to take a hot shower or bath to relax her mind and her body and help her to focus. She now needed to isolate herself from outside distractions allowing her body to take over without resistance, allowing her body to increase the production of endorphins and take her into its own world of acceptation and instinctive response. She was now 4cms dilated. The baby’s heartbeat remained healthy and strong. All was well…
Once the bath was filled to the top with warm water and lavender drops to aid relaxation Katy entered the water. She gained immediate relief as the heat penetrated her tense muscles and allowed her body to relax and her mind to give up all resistance and accompany the contractions as they pushed her baby’s head down onto the cervix, stretching and dilating with ease. As all resistance left her it became obvious that her body increased its production of Oxytocin and the contractions became more frequent, longer and more powerful progressively. All was well…
As her midwife I explained clearly at each stage what was happening in her body, I reassured her that all was well and that what she was feeling was good, it was ‘OK.’ As her Mum I truly knew her strength and conveyed my love and pride in how well she was managing each and every stage. I was close, but not too close, Nick was there…Katy had all she needed. During my time at Acuario I had learned the best use of water in labour and birth. At this stage it would not be beneficial for Katy to remain too long in the bath. There are many other ways of easing the discomfort and the warm water could be kept as an option for a later stage. So after one hour I encouraged her to leave the water and rest awhile in the familiarity, comfort and security of her own bed. It was now 12.15pm. Lying on her side with Nick snuggled up behind her, a hot water bottle on her lower abdomen I sat on the floor by her bedside with my hand on her belly and talked her calmly and quietly through each and every contraction for the next one and a half hours. As the contractions became longer and stronger I could see that Katy would need to find a new way to relieve the pain. She expressed the urge to pee and began to feel pressure low down in the birth canal. It was now 1.45pm. All was well… Now Katy was finding it hard to ride the storm of the contractions. The strength and intensity was at its maximum. All the signs showed that she was close to delivering her baby…but…could that really be true? It had been far too quick for a first time mum! I must admit to thinking that if she was just 5or 6cms, which would have been the average expectation for a first labour, then how would I help her through the next several hours? I suggested she go to the bathroom to pee whilst I prepared a nice warm bath for her. This she did. It was the first contraction that came fierce and strong as she sat on the loo that gave her that unmistakable urge to bear down. Now I knew for sure…the baby was close, she was ready to push. We once more listened to a healthy heat beat from inside her uterus. All was well… We helped Katy into the bath and as she settled into the comforting warm water the next powerful contraction came and she spontaneously and instinctively pushed down deep into the birthing canal and we had our first sight of the little ones’ head covered in dark hair. At this point I suddenly remembered we should inform the local midwife who was prepared to attend the birth. I quickly called the local birthing centre, “I am calling for Katy who is booked with you for a home birth. I’m sorry to leave it so late but things have progressed very fast and she is now in second stage and we can see the baby’s head! All is well…” I’m not sure she believed me as she knew I was a midwife so probably thought I had planned it that way (which I hadn’t) but she spoke very kindly and said she would be along straight away .At this point both Katy and Nick experienced a small moment of panic, of realization that this was the moment they had been waiting for and suddenly it was a bit too much, a bit scary. I spoke to them calmly but firmly to allay their fears and keep them focused. I immediately realized that this was now Rachel the midwife talking, Rachel the midwife with all her skills and knowledge who had taken over my whole being. Rachel the midwife who automatically and instinctively knew how to take this precious woman and her baby safely through childbirth as she had done so many times for so many women and babies. Like most other first timers Katy held back her true power with the first few pushes. Why on earth would a woman cause herself so much pain as she is stretched wide open? Much better to hold back, to resist, trying to lessen the pain. But this is short lasting and with the right encouragement and support Katy quickly realized that she must use all her power, all her strength and determination to safely birth her baby. It took Katy just 30 minutes to push her little one out into this world. The local midwife arrived just two pushes before Scarlett was born. I respectfully asked her permission to continue assisting the birth which she kindly agreed to. So it was at 2.15pm on 21st Decemebr2011 that this midwife, this Mum, received her own granddaughter into the world, this midwife/mum who encouraged her daughter to take her baby into her own hands as she was being born and gently lift her out of the warm water and onto her breast. What an amazing moment! But I was still the midwife as I encouraged Nick to cut the umbilical cord, to physically separate his daughter from the sole care of her mum, symbolically accepting his role as her father in the responsibility of the lifetime care of his daughter. I was still the midwife as I delivered the placenta and assured myself that there was no excessive bleeding, as I checked for tears or injuries. Nothing…. All is well…. Katy stayed in the bath for a while whilst we all stared at Scarlett in amazement as if she was the first baby ever to have been born and that her tiny fingers and toes were like no others and of course she was more beautiful than any other baby ever to have been born! We played with Scarlett as she floated and relaxed in the familiarity of the warm water. I helped Katy to shower and accompanied her to her bed to rest and organized for her a warm cup of tea and something to eat. I kept in my midwife role until Katy was safely and securely tucked up in her bed with little Scarlett nuzzling at her breast. It was then that I so appreciated the presence of the local midwife who took over the rest. She just took over the tidying up, the documentation, administrative stuff and the advice and formalities. It was just what I needed!
I could now be Mum!
We laughed, we talked and we shared memories of the day. We made lots of telephone calls to all those waiting to hear the good news. We drank cups of tea and we opened the door to the ‘other‘ grandparents. It was a particularly emotional moment for me to see Katy’s little sister (my Fiona) sitting on the bed with Scarlett in her arms and looking and feeling so happy for herself and for Katy. Nick was the calming influence. His relief that all was well that his woman and his daughter were safe was tangible. He was a proud man.
I still remember clearly the sight of Katy snuggled up in her own bed with her little daughter Scarlett suckling at her breast. It took me back to how I felt when she was born. The best moment was when it was all over. I was in my own home, in my own bed with the people I most loved in the whole world.
My baby, my man and my mum.
I want to finish by sharing how Katy and Nick felt about having a Mum/midwife;
Thank you for being the best midwife we could ever have had… for giving me the birth I’d always dreamed of, Scarlett the peaceful arrival she deserved and for keeping calm when Nick was struggling too. It was a wonderful experience we will never forget. We have no doubt that you being there made it as easy and as special as it was.
Friday 10 February 2012
THEN WHAT?
Dec 18th 2011.
It’s cold, it’s icy, but it’s England! Here I am, once again, surrounded by the love of my children and my family. It’s also a very special day for Lucas. Today is his 11th birthday which he is spending in Spain with his papa. I am with Katy and Nick in the north of England and we are all full of excitement as we await not only Christmas but more importantly the birth of their first child! She very cleverly decided to be born around this time so as to assure that her ‘yaya’ from Malawi would be present to help both her and mummy welcome her onto the world. Katy decided very early on in the pregnancy that she would like their daughter to be born in the coziness and comfort of their home. I am excited, calm and confident that it will be a truly beautiful and memorable experience for us all.
It’s been a long time since I last wrote to you all. The past few months have been by far the most difficult that I have experienced since I arrived in Malawi 4 years ago. I will need to explain to you why it’s been so challenging for me.
The shortage of FOREX due to many political reasons, of which I am not going to pass comment, has been the root cause of the problems we are facing in Malawi during this past year which have over time become more and more acute with little hope of improvement. This of course affects all walks of life but I will just focus on how we have been affected at Bwaila and how this has personally reflected in my life.
We started to feel the effects of the fuel crisis early this year. Fuel is the basis of so many areas of our daily life without which it is difficult to function correctly and efficiently. Little wonder so much of the war and power struggles in the world are somehow connected to fuel. Fuel is transport. Fuel is electricity. Fuel is water. Fuel is supplies. Fuel is work. Fuel is leisure. Fuel is food. Fuel is production. Fuel is health. Fuel is not resourced in Malawi. Fuel needs to be imported. Foreign purchases need foreign exchange. Malawi has a Forex crisis.
During the first half of the year we began to notice the shortages of materials and drugs at Bwaila. It became impossible to restock the cupboards in each and every delivery room as our main stock room was half empty as was the central medical stores. It became normal to hear staff shouting out around the ward “ has anyone got any sutures in their room?” or IV fluids, or catheters, or gloves or medication. But we carried on improvising as best we could. The situation became steadily worse and by September was clearly reflecting on the standard of care that we were able to give our mothers and babies. So when situations began to arise whereby the absence of essential medication resulted in loss of lives of our mothers or babies it often became too difficult to handle.
When the mothers blood pressure is dangerously high with the risk of convulsion and subsequent brain damage or death it is essential to administer the appropriate drugs. So if they are just not available…then what? When the mothers are recovering from major surgery and crying out in pain and the most you can offer is a Paracetamol…then what? When the mother is hemorrhaging after the birth of her baby and the life saving injection to contact the uterus and stop the bleeding is not to be found…then what? When a difficult labour needs essential interventions and the materials are scarce…then what? When a woman needs to be brought in from an outlying village or health center due to complications or needs emergency care or when she needs to be transferred to the main hospital unit for intensive care and the ambulance has no fuel…then what? When the patients condition or progress of labour needs to be documented and there is no paper for photocopying …. Then what? When the photocopying machine runs out of ink and there is no money to replace it…then what? When the power is cut and the generator has no fuel so the oxygen concentrators cannot function, the theatre is in darkness…then what?
During the latter part of last year we faced these and other challenges on a daily basis. It wasn’t about lack of obstetric skills, it wasn’t about tired overworked or demotivated staff, it wasn’t about negligent care, it was about an ever increasing lack of support by the government to ensure essential health care.
I remember Alinafe. She was 23 years old and pregnant with her 3rd child. At some stage during her labour in one of our more distant Community Hospitals it all started to go wrong. They decided quickly that she needed a C/section. There was no power and the generator had no diesel so they could not perform the life saving operation so she was referred to Bwaila. The ambulance was called. There was no fuel. By this time the ambulances they has ceased to be given priority in the fuel queues so Alinafe had to wait until morning when fuel could be found to bring her to us. By the time she arrived she had been pushing for hours. The baby had become impacted in her pelvis due to a mal position and try as it might her body could not expel it. We rushed her to theatre but were unable to save either her baby or her uterus. Alinafe lived….but only just.
Continued on 10th Feb 2012.
With each day that passed I found myself becoming less able to cope with the situation and longing for some ‘time out’ some time away from these frustrations and seemingly impossible challenges.
And so I spent 5 weeks in the UK during the Christmas period. Mostly in the north of England being around my 3 elder children but also visiting my mother and my siblings in the South.
My daughter gave birth to her first child, a girl, on 21st December in the comfort of her own home. I ‘Mummed’ and I ‘midwifed’ and was truly astounded and priviledged to be able to share in this wonderful moment that really belonged to Katy and Nick but that I will always form a part of. ( I will publish my reflections on the experience of being a midwife to my own daughter in a later blog.)
Christmas was spent at Katy and Nick’s house with Fiona and Lucas. Alasdair and Laura were in Spain. We then all got together for New Years’ celebrations which were comfortable and cozy. I always appreciate the times when all my 4 children in the one room!
Lucas and I returned to Lilongwe excited and enthusiastic to begin a new year.
Within days we were back into the routine of school and Bwaila, friends and social life.
All is well…………………………….
It’s cold, it’s icy, but it’s England! Here I am, once again, surrounded by the love of my children and my family. It’s also a very special day for Lucas. Today is his 11th birthday which he is spending in Spain with his papa. I am with Katy and Nick in the north of England and we are all full of excitement as we await not only Christmas but more importantly the birth of their first child! She very cleverly decided to be born around this time so as to assure that her ‘yaya’ from Malawi would be present to help both her and mummy welcome her onto the world. Katy decided very early on in the pregnancy that she would like their daughter to be born in the coziness and comfort of their home. I am excited, calm and confident that it will be a truly beautiful and memorable experience for us all.
It’s been a long time since I last wrote to you all. The past few months have been by far the most difficult that I have experienced since I arrived in Malawi 4 years ago. I will need to explain to you why it’s been so challenging for me.
The shortage of FOREX due to many political reasons, of which I am not going to pass comment, has been the root cause of the problems we are facing in Malawi during this past year which have over time become more and more acute with little hope of improvement. This of course affects all walks of life but I will just focus on how we have been affected at Bwaila and how this has personally reflected in my life.
We started to feel the effects of the fuel crisis early this year. Fuel is the basis of so many areas of our daily life without which it is difficult to function correctly and efficiently. Little wonder so much of the war and power struggles in the world are somehow connected to fuel. Fuel is transport. Fuel is electricity. Fuel is water. Fuel is supplies. Fuel is work. Fuel is leisure. Fuel is food. Fuel is production. Fuel is health. Fuel is not resourced in Malawi. Fuel needs to be imported. Foreign purchases need foreign exchange. Malawi has a Forex crisis.
During the first half of the year we began to notice the shortages of materials and drugs at Bwaila. It became impossible to restock the cupboards in each and every delivery room as our main stock room was half empty as was the central medical stores. It became normal to hear staff shouting out around the ward “ has anyone got any sutures in their room?” or IV fluids, or catheters, or gloves or medication. But we carried on improvising as best we could. The situation became steadily worse and by September was clearly reflecting on the standard of care that we were able to give our mothers and babies. So when situations began to arise whereby the absence of essential medication resulted in loss of lives of our mothers or babies it often became too difficult to handle.
When the mothers blood pressure is dangerously high with the risk of convulsion and subsequent brain damage or death it is essential to administer the appropriate drugs. So if they are just not available…then what? When the mothers are recovering from major surgery and crying out in pain and the most you can offer is a Paracetamol…then what? When the mother is hemorrhaging after the birth of her baby and the life saving injection to contact the uterus and stop the bleeding is not to be found…then what? When a difficult labour needs essential interventions and the materials are scarce…then what? When a woman needs to be brought in from an outlying village or health center due to complications or needs emergency care or when she needs to be transferred to the main hospital unit for intensive care and the ambulance has no fuel…then what? When the patients condition or progress of labour needs to be documented and there is no paper for photocopying …. Then what? When the photocopying machine runs out of ink and there is no money to replace it…then what? When the power is cut and the generator has no fuel so the oxygen concentrators cannot function, the theatre is in darkness…then what?
During the latter part of last year we faced these and other challenges on a daily basis. It wasn’t about lack of obstetric skills, it wasn’t about tired overworked or demotivated staff, it wasn’t about negligent care, it was about an ever increasing lack of support by the government to ensure essential health care.
I remember Alinafe. She was 23 years old and pregnant with her 3rd child. At some stage during her labour in one of our more distant Community Hospitals it all started to go wrong. They decided quickly that she needed a C/section. There was no power and the generator had no diesel so they could not perform the life saving operation so she was referred to Bwaila. The ambulance was called. There was no fuel. By this time the ambulances they has ceased to be given priority in the fuel queues so Alinafe had to wait until morning when fuel could be found to bring her to us. By the time she arrived she had been pushing for hours. The baby had become impacted in her pelvis due to a mal position and try as it might her body could not expel it. We rushed her to theatre but were unable to save either her baby or her uterus. Alinafe lived….but only just.
Continued on 10th Feb 2012.
With each day that passed I found myself becoming less able to cope with the situation and longing for some ‘time out’ some time away from these frustrations and seemingly impossible challenges.
And so I spent 5 weeks in the UK during the Christmas period. Mostly in the north of England being around my 3 elder children but also visiting my mother and my siblings in the South.
My daughter gave birth to her first child, a girl, on 21st December in the comfort of her own home. I ‘Mummed’ and I ‘midwifed’ and was truly astounded and priviledged to be able to share in this wonderful moment that really belonged to Katy and Nick but that I will always form a part of. ( I will publish my reflections on the experience of being a midwife to my own daughter in a later blog.)
Christmas was spent at Katy and Nick’s house with Fiona and Lucas. Alasdair and Laura were in Spain. We then all got together for New Years’ celebrations which were comfortable and cozy. I always appreciate the times when all my 4 children in the one room!
Lucas and I returned to Lilongwe excited and enthusiastic to begin a new year.
Within days we were back into the routine of school and Bwaila, friends and social life.
All is well…………………………….
Tuesday 9 August 2011
JUST ANOTHER STORY TO TELL
I want to tell you the story of Chikumado (meaning ‘Someone who is not happy’)
Chikumado’s mother lives in one of the many extremely poor villages about 20kms. outside of Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. As far as I can find out she has had ‘psychiatric problems’ for some time. Her husband Cidy claims to have married her because ‘I had been without a woman for such a long time so I thought I would take care of her.’ I believe that he too is highly unstable. It is not clear as to whether her first child, a girl now two years old, is fathered by her husband or was the result of a violent incident.
I only met Cidy and his wife today.
I had arrived on labour ward at the usual time just before 7.30am. Checking for any problems that needed to be solved from the night I then attended the morning ‘hand over’ meeting. I then returned to labour ward where I take the daily responsibility of leading the morning round with the clinical staff, students and midwives. This is wonderful opportunity for teaching in the practical situation as we discuss each and every case in detail learning and planning care.
My mobile phone rang twice but it was not a good time to take the call so I let it ring. The third time it rang I answered the call. Beatrice is a nurse/midwife colleague who I have known almost since I first arrived in Malawi over three years ago. She is running a small charity organization set up 4 years ago by an Marican midwife (Joanne) with the aim of supporting the families of our orphans from Bwaila. That is to say when a mother dies in our care they will support and encourage her close family to care and raise the child in the village rather than take it into care(orphanage) We have worked together closely for all these years and I will call Beatrice whenever there is such a situation. She is caring and reliable and doing a much needed task which should be covered by the Social Services but as in many things here in Malawi is sadly lacking.
‘I am at the central hospital ‘she explained. ‘One of the babies we have been caring for has died and we have no way of return the baby’s little body to its village’
How could I resist? How could I deny this plea for help?
I agreed to help
Fortunately labour ward was not too busy and we were well staffed so I set off in my car to the hospital to find her.
What a sorry sight met me as I arrived. The small accompanying procession of women approached my car, the small corpse wrapped in a colourful cloth, the distraught father carrying his dead child and my friend and colleague Beatrice. They all climbed into my car and we set off on our sad journey home.
Whilst we drove Beatrice told me the whole story.
Beatrice had first become involved with the family when Chikcumado was five months old and weighing just 2.8kgs. He had been brought to the hospital by his father severely undernourished and extremely sick. After a short stay on the paediatric ward he was discharged home is the care of his father. The baby’s mother was not fit to care for him as was evident. Beatice continued to make regular visits to the village providing milk powder and nourishment and slowly Chikcumado began to gain weight. The situation was still precarious and when at 11 months he was still malnourished and failing to thrive he succumbed to pneumonia and severe anemia. His father once more brought him to the hospital. Treatment was given and after three weeks, during which time his father never left his side, Chikcumado began to make progress. He now weighed 7kgs. At the beginning of this week one of the ward assistants brought hot water to the father so that he could bathe his child. Unfortunately she failed to tell him that the water was straight from the stove thus allowing him to dip his son into boiling water sustaining severe burns to most of both his legs. This was too much for the small undernourished child to deal with. He died three days later.
We arrived at the village and were met by the village headman and members of his family. It seems they were unaware of what had occurred and certainly had not supported Cidy over the past weeks. The baby and the anguished father were taken into the family mud hut and a procession of women started to arrive to pay their respects as is custom. We enquired as to the whereabouts of the Chikumados mother but no one seemed to know where she was. They had not seen her for days. She was eventually located in a dilapidated hut next to where we were standing. How it was that no one knew or cared I fail to understand but it became clear that she had not been receiving any help from the village or her family. Yes…. now I began to understand clearly how it was that this whole situation had occurred. There are many superstitions surrounding people with psychiatric disorders which often results in them being outcasts in the village.
Entering into the hut I found Chikcumado’s mother sitting on the floor of what can only be described as a space fit only for animals. Her other small child lay sleeping in her lap filthy dirty and covered in faeces. A pan of beans was burning in a pan over a small fire made of sticks. I touched her face; I smiled and talked softly to her. I could do nothing. I left the hut and sadly walked away. We said our farewells to the father and the family respecting traditions and drove back to Lilongwe.
Beatrice will visit again and try to give care and support for the other little child, just 2 years old but with little hope for the future, with little hope for survival.
Lucas will return on Friday after seven weeks in Spain with his Papa. Lucas is privileged. Lucas is happy and healthy.
I thank God for Lucas.
Chikumado’s mother lives in one of the many extremely poor villages about 20kms. outside of Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. As far as I can find out she has had ‘psychiatric problems’ for some time. Her husband Cidy claims to have married her because ‘I had been without a woman for such a long time so I thought I would take care of her.’ I believe that he too is highly unstable. It is not clear as to whether her first child, a girl now two years old, is fathered by her husband or was the result of a violent incident.
I only met Cidy and his wife today.
I had arrived on labour ward at the usual time just before 7.30am. Checking for any problems that needed to be solved from the night I then attended the morning ‘hand over’ meeting. I then returned to labour ward where I take the daily responsibility of leading the morning round with the clinical staff, students and midwives. This is wonderful opportunity for teaching in the practical situation as we discuss each and every case in detail learning and planning care.
My mobile phone rang twice but it was not a good time to take the call so I let it ring. The third time it rang I answered the call. Beatrice is a nurse/midwife colleague who I have known almost since I first arrived in Malawi over three years ago. She is running a small charity organization set up 4 years ago by an Marican midwife (Joanne) with the aim of supporting the families of our orphans from Bwaila. That is to say when a mother dies in our care they will support and encourage her close family to care and raise the child in the village rather than take it into care(orphanage) We have worked together closely for all these years and I will call Beatrice whenever there is such a situation. She is caring and reliable and doing a much needed task which should be covered by the Social Services but as in many things here in Malawi is sadly lacking.
‘I am at the central hospital ‘she explained. ‘One of the babies we have been caring for has died and we have no way of return the baby’s little body to its village’
How could I resist? How could I deny this plea for help?
I agreed to help
Fortunately labour ward was not too busy and we were well staffed so I set off in my car to the hospital to find her.
What a sorry sight met me as I arrived. The small accompanying procession of women approached my car, the small corpse wrapped in a colourful cloth, the distraught father carrying his dead child and my friend and colleague Beatrice. They all climbed into my car and we set off on our sad journey home.
Whilst we drove Beatrice told me the whole story.
Beatrice had first become involved with the family when Chikcumado was five months old and weighing just 2.8kgs. He had been brought to the hospital by his father severely undernourished and extremely sick. After a short stay on the paediatric ward he was discharged home is the care of his father. The baby’s mother was not fit to care for him as was evident. Beatice continued to make regular visits to the village providing milk powder and nourishment and slowly Chikcumado began to gain weight. The situation was still precarious and when at 11 months he was still malnourished and failing to thrive he succumbed to pneumonia and severe anemia. His father once more brought him to the hospital. Treatment was given and after three weeks, during which time his father never left his side, Chikcumado began to make progress. He now weighed 7kgs. At the beginning of this week one of the ward assistants brought hot water to the father so that he could bathe his child. Unfortunately she failed to tell him that the water was straight from the stove thus allowing him to dip his son into boiling water sustaining severe burns to most of both his legs. This was too much for the small undernourished child to deal with. He died three days later.
We arrived at the village and were met by the village headman and members of his family. It seems they were unaware of what had occurred and certainly had not supported Cidy over the past weeks. The baby and the anguished father were taken into the family mud hut and a procession of women started to arrive to pay their respects as is custom. We enquired as to the whereabouts of the Chikumados mother but no one seemed to know where she was. They had not seen her for days. She was eventually located in a dilapidated hut next to where we were standing. How it was that no one knew or cared I fail to understand but it became clear that she had not been receiving any help from the village or her family. Yes…. now I began to understand clearly how it was that this whole situation had occurred. There are many superstitions surrounding people with psychiatric disorders which often results in them being outcasts in the village.
Entering into the hut I found Chikcumado’s mother sitting on the floor of what can only be described as a space fit only for animals. Her other small child lay sleeping in her lap filthy dirty and covered in faeces. A pan of beans was burning in a pan over a small fire made of sticks. I touched her face; I smiled and talked softly to her. I could do nothing. I left the hut and sadly walked away. We said our farewells to the father and the family respecting traditions and drove back to Lilongwe.
Beatrice will visit again and try to give care and support for the other little child, just 2 years old but with little hope for the future, with little hope for survival.
Lucas will return on Friday after seven weeks in Spain with his Papa. Lucas is privileged. Lucas is happy and healthy.
I thank God for Lucas.
Wednesday 22 June 2011
LOW RISK
Bwaila hospital plus fourteen health centers in the Lilongwe district rely on six ambulances and only one is functional at this time…..
Malawi is in the grips of a fuel crisis. Ever since I arrived here over three years ago there have been periods that it has been difficult to get fuel but none so much as during the past few months. The lack of foreign exchange in a country whose imports far exceed its exporting potential plus important political issues at this time is causing this dire situation. As you can imagine it affects all walks of life, all businesses, all people in some way, but here at Bwaila it means our ambulances cannot function and our women and babies are suffering.
This morning I was attending a young mother who had given birth to her first child in one of our health centers at 2.30am. At 5am. she had her first eclamptic convulsion. This condition, which is peculiar to pregnancy, but that may become evident even after delivery is one of the main causes of maternal death in Malawi. It was necessary to refer her immediately to the hospital so that she could receive the appropriate medications which are mostly not available in the health centers. It was impossible to find an ambulance with fuel. (diesel) At 7am. she had a second convulsion but still the ambulance did not arrive. Zione arrived at Bwaila at 10am.Now 5hours since she first became sick. On arrival she was semi conscious and needed immediate attention. Her guardian informed us that she had also convulsed in the ambulance on the way to us. Each and every convulsion leads her into a more critical condition. We immediately commenced her on the right drugs and management so that we could then refer her to the central hospital for admission to the intensive care unit. Working together with my colleagues we managed to stabilize her condition noting that her conscious level was improving. I sent a student to inform the switchboard operator that we would need emergency transport for the transfer. After 15 minutes I decided to check myself as to when the ambulance would arrive. I found the telephone operator sitting in the kitchen having breakfast. I asked him when the ambulance would arrive to which he answered that he couldn’t make the call as he had no ‘units’ for the telephone .I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Why hadn’t he come to labour ward to tell us this? Using my own mobile phone I called the District Medical Officer who promised to resolve the situation. 30minutes later, just as I was starting to make arrangements to carry her in my own car, the ambulance arrived and I accompanied her to the central unit to be further managed. Her condition on arrival had not deteriorated so I am hopeful that she will recover, although she may still have suffered some cerebral damage due to the convulsions that she had suffered. I will follow up her progress tomorrow.
The health personnel had cared for her well and adequately but the support services had failed. How long will this situation last? How many more women and babies will suffer and maybe die because the fuel tanks are empty? Or the telephones are not working?
This is yet another example of some of the challenges that we are facing when trying to deliver health care in Malawi. Challenges that are unimaginable in the developed countries but that are a daily reality here at Bwaila.
The first follow up HIV test after treatment was negative. I will repeat the test once more to be certain that transmission has not taken place but I am confident. I feel happy and positive. I accept the high risk situation in which I work but continue to known for certain that I am still in the right place, I am where I should be...for now.
Malawi is in the grips of a fuel crisis. Ever since I arrived here over three years ago there have been periods that it has been difficult to get fuel but none so much as during the past few months. The lack of foreign exchange in a country whose imports far exceed its exporting potential plus important political issues at this time is causing this dire situation. As you can imagine it affects all walks of life, all businesses, all people in some way, but here at Bwaila it means our ambulances cannot function and our women and babies are suffering.
This morning I was attending a young mother who had given birth to her first child in one of our health centers at 2.30am. At 5am. she had her first eclamptic convulsion. This condition, which is peculiar to pregnancy, but that may become evident even after delivery is one of the main causes of maternal death in Malawi. It was necessary to refer her immediately to the hospital so that she could receive the appropriate medications which are mostly not available in the health centers. It was impossible to find an ambulance with fuel. (diesel) At 7am. she had a second convulsion but still the ambulance did not arrive. Zione arrived at Bwaila at 10am.Now 5hours since she first became sick. On arrival she was semi conscious and needed immediate attention. Her guardian informed us that she had also convulsed in the ambulance on the way to us. Each and every convulsion leads her into a more critical condition. We immediately commenced her on the right drugs and management so that we could then refer her to the central hospital for admission to the intensive care unit. Working together with my colleagues we managed to stabilize her condition noting that her conscious level was improving. I sent a student to inform the switchboard operator that we would need emergency transport for the transfer. After 15 minutes I decided to check myself as to when the ambulance would arrive. I found the telephone operator sitting in the kitchen having breakfast. I asked him when the ambulance would arrive to which he answered that he couldn’t make the call as he had no ‘units’ for the telephone .I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Why hadn’t he come to labour ward to tell us this? Using my own mobile phone I called the District Medical Officer who promised to resolve the situation. 30minutes later, just as I was starting to make arrangements to carry her in my own car, the ambulance arrived and I accompanied her to the central unit to be further managed. Her condition on arrival had not deteriorated so I am hopeful that she will recover, although she may still have suffered some cerebral damage due to the convulsions that she had suffered. I will follow up her progress tomorrow.
The health personnel had cared for her well and adequately but the support services had failed. How long will this situation last? How many more women and babies will suffer and maybe die because the fuel tanks are empty? Or the telephones are not working?
This is yet another example of some of the challenges that we are facing when trying to deliver health care in Malawi. Challenges that are unimaginable in the developed countries but that are a daily reality here at Bwaila.
The first follow up HIV test after treatment was negative. I will repeat the test once more to be certain that transmission has not taken place but I am confident. I feel happy and positive. I accept the high risk situation in which I work but continue to known for certain that I am still in the right place, I am where I should be...for now.
SOME RISK
Monday 30th May. It’s now one whole week since I completed the course of ARV’s (PEP) I feel so much better. I didn’t quite realize how much these drugs had affected me until I finished them. I feel so much stronger and far less tired. More importantly I feel so much more positive and emotionally stable. At the end of this week I will take an HIV test which will then be repeated again in two months time. It will only be then that I can be sure that the virus has not been transmitted. However, I am feeling very positive and believe that I will be tested negative.
Bwaila continues to be both challenging and rewarding. The in-service training that I set up within the first months of arriving over three years ago but that became irregular during last year due to the withdrawal of funding has now been started up again. I am pleased and encouraged to see how well this has been received by the midwives who are enthusiastic participants. My role in this has changed somewhat as I hand over the facilitation to my Malawian colleagues and take up my new role as mentor or teacher of the teachers. Since January I have taken on the leadership of the daily ‘ward round’ on Labour Ward each morning. This is an excellent teaching opportunity attended by all cadres including students and trained staff. We discuss each case at length particularly those that are more complicated or ‘high risk.’ The participants are encouraged to assess each case and make plans for actions necessary and care needed. I particularly enjoy this type of teaching sharing all my knowledge and experience with the aim of improving the outcomes for the mothers and babies attended at Bwaila.
We are specifically looking at improving our Neonatal death rates. Birth asphyxia, which is most often caused by lack of diligent care during labour, is the main cause of neonatal deaths on our unit. We need to prevent our babies being born in poor condition thus needing resuscitation and nursery care. Many of our babies born with birth asphyxia will be the result of obstructed or prolonged labour. I have been working tirelessly both in the clinical situation and in the classroom to address this challenge. I hope that this effort will be reflected in our statistics during the next few months but more importantly that our aim to discharge healthy mothers and babies will be achieved
Bwaila continues to be both challenging and rewarding. The in-service training that I set up within the first months of arriving over three years ago but that became irregular during last year due to the withdrawal of funding has now been started up again. I am pleased and encouraged to see how well this has been received by the midwives who are enthusiastic participants. My role in this has changed somewhat as I hand over the facilitation to my Malawian colleagues and take up my new role as mentor or teacher of the teachers. Since January I have taken on the leadership of the daily ‘ward round’ on Labour Ward each morning. This is an excellent teaching opportunity attended by all cadres including students and trained staff. We discuss each case at length particularly those that are more complicated or ‘high risk.’ The participants are encouraged to assess each case and make plans for actions necessary and care needed. I particularly enjoy this type of teaching sharing all my knowledge and experience with the aim of improving the outcomes for the mothers and babies attended at Bwaila.
We are specifically looking at improving our Neonatal death rates. Birth asphyxia, which is most often caused by lack of diligent care during labour, is the main cause of neonatal deaths on our unit. We need to prevent our babies being born in poor condition thus needing resuscitation and nursery care. Many of our babies born with birth asphyxia will be the result of obstructed or prolonged labour. I have been working tirelessly both in the clinical situation and in the classroom to address this challenge. I hope that this effort will be reflected in our statistics during the next few months but more importantly that our aim to discharge healthy mothers and babies will be achieved
MEDIUM RISK
Twenty eight days of taking ARV’s and only two more to go!
It’s been a long hard month which has been an extremely testing time for me. I was warned very seriously from those that had taken these medications(PEP) that the side effects were many and unpleasant but in true Rachel style I was determined that this would not be the case for me That somehow I would be stronger, more resilient and not let them effect me. So I started out on a positive note as usual which I was able to maintain for the first two weeks. I was truly amazed to find that apart from slight nausea, lack of appetite and a general tiredness which I could overcome keeping myself busy I kept myself remarkably well physically. Emotionally it was a different matter and I found myself rejecting the medication each and every time I had to swallow those three huge pills. It felt as if I really poisoning my otherwise healthy body. After two weeks I came down with some sort of infection. Whether it was ‘flu or some weird virus I started to feel a sickness come over my whole body. It started by finding hugely painfully enlarged glands in my neck. At one point I tested for Malaria even though the symptoms were not typical and I felt sure this was not the problem. I began to worry that I was developing full blown AIDS. I was sufficiently worried to visit one of our specialist doctors who reassured me that it was extremely unlikely. The underlying doubts still remain. I spent three days at home determined to care for my health and fully recover. It took nearly a week to clear with just a few painkillers and anti inflammatory drugs. The week ended with a relaxing three days at the lake which always serves to renew and refresh me in body and spirit. I am not feeling good. However positive I try to be, the fact is, I still feel as if these drugs are poisoning me and therefore am experiencing the side effects more acutely. I am tired, just so tired. The one thing that keeps me going is to be on Labour Ward. Once I am there and involved in my work I don’t even notice the tiredness. When I stop, when I come home it is there again. Just two more days then I will be eliminating the drugs from my body and start to be Rachel, return to the enthusiastic, energetic Rachel that I know I am. Until then I will care for me, I will rest and I will find the strong positive Rachel which has pulled me through so many difficult situations so many times.
Am I still worried that I may still test positive in a few weeks time? Yes…. I guess I still have that niggling doubt, however small. The chances are very small the statistics assure me that it is very unlikely, but…..
It’s been a long hard month which has been an extremely testing time for me. I was warned very seriously from those that had taken these medications(PEP) that the side effects were many and unpleasant but in true Rachel style I was determined that this would not be the case for me That somehow I would be stronger, more resilient and not let them effect me. So I started out on a positive note as usual which I was able to maintain for the first two weeks. I was truly amazed to find that apart from slight nausea, lack of appetite and a general tiredness which I could overcome keeping myself busy I kept myself remarkably well physically. Emotionally it was a different matter and I found myself rejecting the medication each and every time I had to swallow those three huge pills. It felt as if I really poisoning my otherwise healthy body. After two weeks I came down with some sort of infection. Whether it was ‘flu or some weird virus I started to feel a sickness come over my whole body. It started by finding hugely painfully enlarged glands in my neck. At one point I tested for Malaria even though the symptoms were not typical and I felt sure this was not the problem. I began to worry that I was developing full blown AIDS. I was sufficiently worried to visit one of our specialist doctors who reassured me that it was extremely unlikely. The underlying doubts still remain. I spent three days at home determined to care for my health and fully recover. It took nearly a week to clear with just a few painkillers and anti inflammatory drugs. The week ended with a relaxing three days at the lake which always serves to renew and refresh me in body and spirit. I am not feeling good. However positive I try to be, the fact is, I still feel as if these drugs are poisoning me and therefore am experiencing the side effects more acutely. I am tired, just so tired. The one thing that keeps me going is to be on Labour Ward. Once I am there and involved in my work I don’t even notice the tiredness. When I stop, when I come home it is there again. Just two more days then I will be eliminating the drugs from my body and start to be Rachel, return to the enthusiastic, energetic Rachel that I know I am. Until then I will care for me, I will rest and I will find the strong positive Rachel which has pulled me through so many difficult situations so many times.
Am I still worried that I may still test positive in a few weeks time? Yes…. I guess I still have that niggling doubt, however small. The chances are very small the statistics assure me that it is very unlikely, but…..
HIGH RISK
I’m confused but I’m not afraid, I’m strong but I need to feel comforted and supported.
It was one of those usual busy days on labour ward at Bwaila. Most of my time is now spent teaching students of all categories sharing my skills and knowledge so that others may learn. Clinical/ bedside teaching is what I love, what I do best. My role is well accepted and well established now and I am sought out by the students to supervise their work.
So it was that two weeks ago whilst supervising one of our students I received a needle stick injury. Having administered the injection of Oxytocin for the removal of the placenta I had carelessly left the uncovered syringe and needle on the bed. Later whilst wrapping up the cloths on which she had birthed the needle entered deeply onto my left hand. I removed my gloves (we wear two pairs for extra protection) and went to the sink to wash. The best thing in these situations is to squeeze the wound to make it bleed. Unfortunately as the entry had been deep there was little blood however hard I squeezed I knew this mother was HIV positive and that I should therefore seek assistance promptly. Alongside the maternity unit there is a busy and successful HIV clinic that supports our work. I hurriedly left the labour ward to visit their clinicians. I am working on the busiest labour ward in Malawi and possibly in the whole of Southern Africa, I am working at Bwaila. It is an extremely high risk situation in which we try to protect ourselves but inevitably accidents do happen. Since arriving here over 3 years ago I have been regularly tested for HIV as a matter of course. Small needle prick injuries whilst suturing have not alarmed me but this was different. After testing negative at the present time I was prescribed the usual medications to assist my body in rejecting the virus. Post Exposure Profilaxis (PEP) is a combination of Anti Retrovirals ( ARV) I will have to take these drugs for one month then be retested after three months to ensure that I havn’t been infected.
So how do I feel?
My first reaction two weeks ago was that of anger. How could I be so careless?
Every morning and evening I have to take the medication. This is the hardest for me. Consciously putting these powerful drugs into my otherwise healthy body to do all manner of harm to my cells and tissues whilst supposedly preventing transmission, which I may not even need, I find hugely distressing.
I was warned of all the possible side effects, nausea, diarrhea, weakness, tiredness etc. ‘you will feel sick for month’ I was told. I was having none of this I decided! I would be fine, I would feel fine, and life will go on as usual!
And to some extent it has. Sometimes I get a bit weepy, I am often very tired and weak but apart from the occasional wave of nausea, I am just fine.
I am not afraid; I truly do not think I will contract HIV
I won’t publish this now but wait for 3 months to share this with you all.
It was one of those usual busy days on labour ward at Bwaila. Most of my time is now spent teaching students of all categories sharing my skills and knowledge so that others may learn. Clinical/ bedside teaching is what I love, what I do best. My role is well accepted and well established now and I am sought out by the students to supervise their work.
So it was that two weeks ago whilst supervising one of our students I received a needle stick injury. Having administered the injection of Oxytocin for the removal of the placenta I had carelessly left the uncovered syringe and needle on the bed. Later whilst wrapping up the cloths on which she had birthed the needle entered deeply onto my left hand. I removed my gloves (we wear two pairs for extra protection) and went to the sink to wash. The best thing in these situations is to squeeze the wound to make it bleed. Unfortunately as the entry had been deep there was little blood however hard I squeezed I knew this mother was HIV positive and that I should therefore seek assistance promptly. Alongside the maternity unit there is a busy and successful HIV clinic that supports our work. I hurriedly left the labour ward to visit their clinicians. I am working on the busiest labour ward in Malawi and possibly in the whole of Southern Africa, I am working at Bwaila. It is an extremely high risk situation in which we try to protect ourselves but inevitably accidents do happen. Since arriving here over 3 years ago I have been regularly tested for HIV as a matter of course. Small needle prick injuries whilst suturing have not alarmed me but this was different. After testing negative at the present time I was prescribed the usual medications to assist my body in rejecting the virus. Post Exposure Profilaxis (PEP) is a combination of Anti Retrovirals ( ARV) I will have to take these drugs for one month then be retested after three months to ensure that I havn’t been infected.
So how do I feel?
My first reaction two weeks ago was that of anger. How could I be so careless?
Every morning and evening I have to take the medication. This is the hardest for me. Consciously putting these powerful drugs into my otherwise healthy body to do all manner of harm to my cells and tissues whilst supposedly preventing transmission, which I may not even need, I find hugely distressing.
I was warned of all the possible side effects, nausea, diarrhea, weakness, tiredness etc. ‘you will feel sick for month’ I was told. I was having none of this I decided! I would be fine, I would feel fine, and life will go on as usual!
And to some extent it has. Sometimes I get a bit weepy, I am often very tired and weak but apart from the occasional wave of nausea, I am just fine.
I am not afraid; I truly do not think I will contract HIV
I won’t publish this now but wait for 3 months to share this with you all.
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