Today was the day that Jackie's mom and I were to visit the adult AIDS clinic. You have to arrive there at 7 or earlier to actually get seen on that day. So, I got up early and picked her from home (she's staying at Jackie's late auntie's place) and walked to the hospital. However, we arrived to learn that they have changed their system a bit- only 5 new patients were taken in per day plus new patients that had made an appointment. The nurse told us that we could wait until around 10 and if someone didn't show up for their appointment, we could get squeezed in.
So, we SQUEEZED ourselves into the waiting area. The benches are made to hold 4, 5 at the most, adults. We were sitting with 8 people on a bench, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. What made it even more interesting is that benches face each other so you are kneed to knee with the person sitting opposite of you. Let me tell you moving off of the bench was a real experience. You have to pretty much crawl over people to get out. With the number of people that were sitting in the waiting room (and that was only 1 day for the month of Dec.), you could think the whole of Uganda is HIV+.
We all hear praise to the leaders of Uganda that the HIV rate has dramatically fallen to around 6%. I don't believe it. Let me tell you, the reality on the ground looks to be a much different story. The hospital where I took Jackie's mom is only one of many all over the country. Each one caters to thousands. And what about all the people that know they are infected but opt not to go for treatment. Plus the ones that don't yet know they are infected. My guess is that the real rate is hovering around 25-30%. Not much different than the rest of SubSaharan Africa.
I get a lot of slack from people here that I get overly involved with the families that I work with. Perhaps it is true or perhaps that is the reason that I am here. These are deacons and leaders in the church that will tell me to just give the person the money and let it be. Basically just do the minimum.
They said this really harshly when Jackie first came to live with me. Why would I bring in a child that is just going to die? My answer: What if she doesn't die? What if she outlives me? What if they find a cure? None of us are promised tomorrow. Even if you have an HIV- child, there is no promise that the child will not have any complication or live longer than you. I've learned to celebrate each day with her and believe that she will outlive me.
I get told by the same people that I love people too much. I'm doing too much for them. Why do I need to escort someone to the hospital? Because it's as scary as hell. I don't know how many of you have visited third world hospitals but they can be a maze to figure out. I didn't even like going alone when I first started taking Nakato and even this time with Jackie. I would get a friend to go along. Now, I've gotten used and don't have a problem going alone, but I understand the feeling.
I know that if I didn't escort Jackie's mom, she wouldn't have had the strength to do it alone. Today I saw sheer terror on her face when the nurses would ask her a question. She could barely get an answer out. Tears would well up in her eyes and she would look at me to answer for her.
So, yes maybe I get too involved. Maybe I do love too much. But, if I was in their shoes, I would want someone to get too involved, to love too much, to care too much. Aren't we supposed to show our love with our actions and not just our words? Isn't it true that actions speak much louder than words?
By the way, we never did get squeezed in to be seen today. The appointment is set for Jan. 14.
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