Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My Gogo is sick.

My Gogo (grandma) is well into her 80s, surpassing even America's life
expectancy. At one point not too long ago, life expectancy in
Swaziland was only 32.6 years (but now it hovers around the 48-49 year
range). Her years have more than doubled that 32 year bar and come
close to doubling the current rate, but those years have definitely
taken their toll on her health. When she stands her back is hunched
over as she grips her walking stick. It takes obvious effort for her
just to lift her head to say hello in the morning (in siSwati, of
course). Her walk is better described as a shuffle as she moves
around the homestead finding the next shady spot, hiding from the
relentless Swazi sun. Once I saw her fall when her shoe caught on a
rock. Her body is so fragile, she was lucky she didn't break any
bones.

Meanwhile, I am a 24 year old healthy American with a life expectancy
around 79 and I just finished a week-long visit to town for my
mid-service medical check-up. We get tested for everything in the
book, get a mental health evaluation, and a dentist check-up. The US
Government is really looking out for us volunteers, but the Swazis we
live among are not so lucky. If they get sick they just stay home and
sleep until they recover. There is no such thing as a check-up here
for a normal Swazi person and I have clinic right in my community so
it's not like they have to travel forever to get there. Mothers go
to the clinic to get immunizations for their babies and ARVs (HIV
meds) are distributed there, but access to healthcare here is not made
easy, especially for people who need it the most, the sick people.
Sick people are generally old and immobile or have waited so long to
get treatment that they are now too weak for traveling.

When I arrived home from my check-up, I found that my Gogo was sick
with some kind of respiratory infection. I can hear fluid in her
lungs, like asthma when she walks. She doesn't walk very well even
when she is healthy and now it is difficult for her to breathe. I can
go to the clinic like it's no big issue, and I actually crossed the
whole country to get to my appointments, but I am neither sick nor old
which makes that kind of traveling much much easier.
My Make (mom) decided to take Gogo to the hospital in the city rather
than our clinic here in the community. At the hospital Gogo can
receive more extensive care, the care that she probably needs.
However, getting to the hospital is no easy task. Make doesn't have
a car and for Gogo to use public transport at her age and condition is
simply out of the question. Make has to find someone with a car and
arrange to get Gogo to the hospital. But people are always busy with
their own lives. It took three days to arrange a ride and even the
morning of the arrangement, Make was unsure whether the man would
actually show up. When she called his phone in the morning, he was
busy fetching water from the river and who knows how long that could
take. He eventually did show up, just three hours late! They did
some tests, ran some blood, and then sent her home.

The next week, Gogo is still not any better. I can still hear
asthma-like sounds in her respiration. One of the days she became
confused and came to my door thinking it was her house. Make wants
to take her to the clinic again, not the one in the city, just the one
about 10km from here. Transport is an issue again, but so is the time
of year. It is planting season now, and Make is busy preparing the
fields for this year's maize crop. Sustenance farming is how people
survive here, so even though Gogo is sick and should probably see a
doctor, people are coming to help Make put in the maize seeds for the
season.
I called a friend who is a teacher at the school next to the clinic.
She has a car, so I asked her if she could take Gogo and Make to the
clinic. To be honest, I took this woman's number and befriended her
specifically because she has a car and if I ever thought there was a
security risk or emergency she could get me somewhere safe. She is a
really nice person, and I am sure I would have been friends with her
without her car, but it did add incentive.

Anyways, this friend was able to take Gogo to the clinic. Gogo got
some more medicine, they checked the results of the previous tests,
they said she didn't need an x-ray, and they sent her home. I am not
quite sure how Make got Gogo back home in the middle of the day since
my teacher friend was still in school. All I know is what I saw.
Make and Gogo returned from the clinic as I was leaving to go teach a
class of my own. Gogo was in a wheel barrow as a neighbor pushed her
from the bus station back to home. A wheel barrow! I know I do my
fair share of complaining about living life in Swaziland, but life is
rough here, especially for elderly and sickly. I am glad I don't have
to be here when I am old. I don't want to have to wait for days to
get to the clinic, given medicines that don't work, and then pushed
home is a wheel barrow! Yet another reason I am happy to be American.
It is times like these I am extra happy to have won the birth lottery
by being born in America.

So its a week later and Gogo is still sick and getting weaker but she
is a tough woman. How else could she have lasted this long, right?

On a seperate note, I just wanted to take some time to thank you for your continued support in reading my blog updates.  Also don't forget to check out my fellow Swazi voluteer blogs with link on the right side of this page.  ---->

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