I tried to pray as I walked toward the hospital. But my
angry thoughts even overtook those prayers. I knew from the call that I had just received that things had been going wrong for a long while before anyone decided to call a doctor. We all make mistakes, but this one
cost some little baby it’s life. One more dead child, for a patient who had
already had this circumstance once before.
I walked in the ward, asked a few questions. I already knew
what the answers were – the all too frequent excuses. Never do I hear the
words, “I made a mistake”, there is always justification, someone else’s fault,
some other shift’s fault. That is when the “self-control” button inside me
turned off. My voice climbed in volume and the heat of it’s tone was no longer
concealed. I just lost it.
As I finished my verbal assault, I turned and walked toward
the patient. My heart and attitude completely changed to one of concern as I
looked at her. I had to counsel her on what had happened. I felt my eyes getting teary. How do you
explain what shouldn’t have happened? Her face barely changed as I gave her the
news. It made it easier, that she had no expectation of better outcome, and had
no knowledge of what should have been.
I’m not sure what it would have looked like to glorify God
in those moments. When my voice and heart were livid, there was something that felt very
much valid about it. We actually should have provided better care. But I was
very much degrading in my correction. I still felt somewhat justified, as it
was a completely preventable poor outcome. But the nurse wasn’t even really
aware of her mistakes. They seemed obvious. After I got done yelling, they were
probably also obvious to her as well.
But the whole world of medical care is
different here. Excellence in patient care, that is what the whole system in America teaches. There are times when we all make mistakes, but trying to do our best seems to me to be one of the ways that we as Christians in medicine glorify God. However, it is very hard to provide care up to the standards taught in US training when training is so very different almost everywhere else in the world. The presumption that care should still be the best possible with consideration to the limited resources of a given environment often leaves me disappointed. I am expecting the staff to bear weight which they have never been adequately trained to carry. Formal education indeed should have taught better
skills, but it didn’t. And I should do more education to fill the depths of the
gaps, but I feel pulled in too many directions to engage such an overwhelming
task properly.
The patient, ignorant of medical issues, was full of much
more grace and contentment than I. Sitting on the corner of her bed this morning, she looked up
at me with a gentle smile. Her first words were a consolation for me - “Asha
for work yesterday”, sort of meaning, “Sorry that your work was hard yesterday”. In my own self centered thoughts, I considered
that yes, it was difficult, quite frustrating indeed. But she’s the one lying
alone in her bed in the midst of a ward full of mothers with their newborns
nestled beside them. And her initial thoughts upon waking are about how hard my
day was. I responded, "No, Ma, asha for you".
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