When we closed school, I thought I could still manage to
post weekly but am soon realizing that home is simply not an academic
background .Am not of course claiming that blogging is scholarly but then the
program used –Ms Word as opposed to VLC media player would surely make a
brother think so. A lot of interesting things have happened of late, as you
well know a week doesn’t go by without drama around me. The reason for that am
yet to establish but the hypothesis have placed so far is that am rounded by
crazy people. Crazy in a good way though.
The last time I posted, the future seemed so bright and it
was like my life was finally taking off what with the attachment looming and
finally an opportunity to be something and do something for somebody. The attachment
of course did kick off and it isn’t a bed of roses as I initially thought. One
would think that if some young bright hardworking student (in case I lost you
thee am describing me) offered his services to an institution pro bono then it’s
obvious that the answer should be yes.
However, it seems human resource managers don’t think so, if at all they do think in the first place. I won’t narrate to you though the frustrations of a second year population health student trying to entrench himself in the job market. Sometimes though I wonder how securing a job will be difficult especially with the noose of remuneration lurking in the background. One can only hope though.
However, it seems human resource managers don’t think so, if at all they do think in the first place. I won’t narrate to you though the frustrations of a second year population health student trying to entrench himself in the job market. Sometimes though I wonder how securing a job will be difficult especially with the noose of remuneration lurking in the background. One can only hope though.
I won’t narrate how you have to explain to any prospective
employer how you have to conjure up some explanations as to what it’s all
about, the differences between population health and community health or public
health for instance. And it’s not that I don’t, it’s just that nobody asks
nutritionists or reproductive health specialists what their program is all about.
Surely it can’t be that difficult. Population health is simply health of the
population.
The silver lining in this story is that every day I grow
closer to earning my full names. I was born Robert Ouko son of Aseda named
after Dr John Robert Ouko Seda, a former politician whose death at the hands of
the powers that was still remains an open mystery. From childhood my mother
always made an attempt to compare us, not just in our shared love for the
politics of the day, our desire to influence others to take a certain path
among others. Of course am not claiming am anything like him but he has always
been my inspiration in life. I have always had this desire to topple his
achievements, even though it’s such a toll order. So when an opportunity to
pursue my degree course came, I took it with two hands because that was the
closest I could ever get to doing medicine after all anybody who works in a
hospital qualifies as a doctor right? Don’t ask me why I can’t just do MBChB.
Now that am talking about working in a hospital, I should
probably mention a few things lest I forget. Whereas it’s sometimes prestigious
to strut around like colossus in a clean, crisp and white lab coat, it can sometimes
leave you with an egg in the face. If there is a skill I have perfected from my
time in Mama Lucy Kibaki hospital is the craft of evasion. Sometimes a patient
thinks so highly of you and asks you questions beyond your job description.
Instead of rudely chasing them away, you pretend to listen while feigning
attention and taking the first opportunity you get to get scarce. You are
suddenly picking an important phone call or attending to more serious mattes
never mind that you are probably rushing to sit on a bench somewhere
facebooking. And it’s not for a lack of caring it’s just that telling a patient
just how blank you are in that scope of study won’t endear you so much to them.
You just conjure up some explanations and point to the relevant door and take
your exit.
Another thing that am soon learning fast is that lunch isn’t
as integral a part of meal as I initially that it was. It’s sometimes though
ironic that I have to counsel patients on the importance of not skipping a meal
and yet go ahead and do the same thing. One disadvantage of going to Kenyatta
University is that it exposes you to cheap avenues for meals. Fifty bob for example
would ensure that you treat yourself to a plate of rice, beef and some few
chapatis or even ugali and beef. I guess that way am having a hard time coughing
that amount of money for some dondoo in the KM of Kayole. Maybe I should just
remain true to my Luopean calling and stop being stingy. One can see the effect
bad company of half Luos likes Mchil and Ragen can have on a person.
I must admit though that the first time I heard of the name
Mama Lucy it sounded like the name of some roadside kiosk or some famous mama
in a neighborhood who was trying to cut a niche for herself in the food
industry. I was right about one thing though that the Mama Lucy in this case is
definitely famous. That it’s Level Four though doesn’t sound right. Among the
most conspicuous characters in this hospital is one Mr. Mwangi, the District
Public Health Officer or Mwas as the ladies of the joint baptized him. The
first time I saw him he was wearing a blue suit though the trousers knots refused
to touch the ground. I thought he might have overgrown the suit but seeing him
every other day in similar suits, am beginning to think that’s just his unique sense
of fashion.
Mr. Mwangi is a soft spoken guy, who one would definitely
confuse for soft. He however, dispelled such rumors when we crossed his paths.
It was a funny sight as he expresses his frustrations at us for going behind
his back and assuming roles he had not assigned us to. He doesn’t have much
work to do though as he just sits in his office with his phone I presume chatting
on 2go.Am sure he can’t wait for free Wi-Fi to be instilled in the hospital to
cut his boredom. Of course I would love to describe his fellow officer who just
sits basking in the sun or making to a trip to Kwa Monica to treat himself to
some nice chapatis way before lunch but one shouldn’t bite the hands that feed them.
He is also on twitter, and he might be following my updates and I won’t wish
for the baptism of fire again anytime soon.
If any one comes to Mama Lucy, probably the first guy you
would get to meet is Jacques. One can’t really describe him because he is the
typical good guy who occasionally likes to
embarrass his juniors for fun to remind himself that he is still boss.
The second day I interacted with him would definitely stick in my brain for a
long time. Due to the Nairobi jams punctuated with morning rains, I got to work
at about ten and got him giving a health talk. As usual, I proceeded to my seat
to begin my days work but Jacques it seemed had better ideas. As soon as he
spotted me, he began shouting that I go back to whoever told me to come late .I
wish I could explain to him that the matatu I had boarded that morning had
probably left to God knows where. Maybe it’s what he did next that maimed and
transfixed me into the ground.
He then made as if to pull some imaginary trigger using his
fingers as if he was some Jack Bauer and announced that he was Jacques. The women
there stared at me in a strange way that for the first time I hoped I was invisible
and invincible. He has however atoned for that patchy start with ensuring that
we get some regular tea though. He may have confused me with our Luhya brothers,
buts it’s still a gesture anyway. He calls everybody ‘my ndia’ and he even though
he is a little biased for the female species, one can’t really blame him for that.
However the demeanor of a guy who has made it in life has been replaced by the
image of a caring man who goes to all extents to ensure that our welfare is
looked it. One can only wonder what has changed within that short time. The answer
to that won’t of course require rocket science.
I would be extremely incomplete if I dint mention Jane and Vane.
These ladies are the perfect version of true African beauty; extremely blessed downstairs
and not so flat on the anterior side either as well .there are some of the
motivations for getting to work on those days, yes those ones. So if I take a
few more weeks at the nutrition department and the cash area don’t think it
will be purely for stamp purposes.
Being at the hospital has been a rollercoaster ride. It has
its flurry of activities and there are those days that we just sit on a bench
and wait for our dear Mwas to clear some meeting or finish processing some
certificate for a food handler at Burma market. Other days though have a flurry
of activities .There is this lady that we had to transfer her asphyxic neonatal
born to KNH. That feeling of importance as we raced along the corridors of the
hospital gathering the necessary paperwork and arranging the required paraphernalia
is one that I haven’t had in a long time. As I pushed the oxygen trolley into
the waiting ambulance, it however did return. It is slowly dissipating though.
My short stint at this convalescent home has definitely
improved my vocabulary though. Normal conversation discussing non events the
acquisition of a Belgian playmaker by some nondescript team who rode their luck
to continental glory has been replaced by conversation rich in content. Words
like Asphyxia, palpating ,date of delivery,-back rubs, stethoscope, foetoscope,
Mid Upper Arm Circumference, anorexia bulimia, fractures among others is all
that come out of my buccal cavity these days. In case I lost you there, don’t
worry, they are just some of the basic terms I use every day in the discharge
of my duties. Dr Gregory House would be willing to educate you on some and even
add a few others to the list.
Am sorry, I can’t go on writing, there is a complicated case
of anorexia nervosa that I need to take care of.
Till next time!
Till next time!
