you can take a solofanua to the water, but you cant make it drink...

Today I fought with a priest. Not physically but well lets just say ‘exchanged words’, me and his relatives. I kicked myself for not having improved my Samoan after all these years, I can speak the basic lingo but I know that when it comes to being polite I can be far from it at times…knowing only to say “se’i tulou” before I mention sh*t poos wees and vomit…
And to think, me and a priest. I think I can be excused but a priest?hmm..Not so sure.

I knew when I restarted work that I would come into contact with the same frustrations I fought in Upolu. It’s not the place but the people. The same, occasionally, (not everyone) ill informed overly superstitious and ignorant (and excuse me but basically stupid) persons….in charge of small sick children who cannot look after themselves and are at the mercy of idiots. I cried on our round today, not once or twice but maybe a good 5 times I had to walk out and go to the bathroom. I’m not sure if it was the anger, anger that these people just didn’t seem to “get” what I was explaining, warning and begging them to beware of, or the sadness I had for the child at the mercy of these morons. At the centre of this scandal is a 4yr old boy. He’s been sick likely a full two weeks at home. He has the clear picture of typhoid sepsis; typhoid at most rears its ugly head as a brief stint of stomach ailments and fevers, but at its worse can ravage ones body to the point of dehydration, inflamed bowels, bleeding, and shock. This kid was rushed into ED at that point. He probably had a good 2 cups of fluid left in his body, had profuse uncontrollable diarrhoea, was just lying there oblivious to anyone groaning in pain esp. if anyone got anywhere near his tummy, had a glazed look over his eyes, that look of impending death. We had to quickly get some fluid into him and then started our treatment for him.

It was soon discovered that he had been quite unwell for a good week at home at the mercy of a fofo, being fed all sorts of rubbish (well…all the traditional remedies, some of which are probably ok for fever and mild viral infections but not for major illnesses) likely forced down his throat as he could not even eat or swallow anything of his own accord. I explained to the family our likely diagnosis and then need for careful but rigorous treatment which in his case would be for no less then 14 days. After only a day and a bit in hosp, the family are wanting to take him home. His dehydration is corrected but the kid is still very sick, unable to eat or drink, walk or talk is still delirious - we were contemplating sending him over to Apia for close monitoring and further treatment there. The reason they want to take him??? Nobody can (be bothered to) stay and look after him in hosp. The father (the priest) was busy with church/village activities, the mother has other children and commitments at home, the grandmother (who is actually at the root of all evil in this case) has to go to NZ for something in 2 days so has to go prepare blab la. On informing them that the kid is still critically ill the grandmother starts huffing and puffing and going on about him not being any better, he was better off at home (were he was literally dying of dehydration) in the background there are murmurs of taking him back to a fofo. Bla bla. I begged the father to put his son first, above all his other commitments and duties (if I could say what I was actually thinking in my head it would be along the lines of “are you f*#n crazy? Your son is dying and you want to go prepare for Sunday mass??”) I told him his village could wait they would understand his child is critically unwell, I begged the stupid grandmother who was insistent he was ‘better of at home and its not typhoid it’s some Samoan disease affecting his throat’. I wanted to yell at her and tell her to get lost cos I could see the father actually wanted to the kid to stay but was being pressured by this crazy woman (his mother in law).

To cut a long story short I lost the battle, no amount of tears -:to give us one more day to try to get him at least well enough to drink (I mean what the hell are they going to do at home if he cant drink?? They’re going to choke him with some moronic concoction because he is too delirious to swallow that’s what) no amount of begging, no amount of threatening (along the lines of “it’ll be on your head if your kid dies, not at the will of god cause god has taught us how to cure this and you are making the decision to not let us carry this out…not god”) no amount of quiet encouragement and pleading could change their minds. They just stared at me blankly as if not a word I said registered, and then asked for the self discharge form to sign. It’s so true that saying you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. No amount of persuasion, pleading begging and beating could make this horse drink. And it just tore me up inside. Why the hell did the even bring the kid to hospital for?? It’s like oh we’ll give this a go and now they’ve decided they can’t be bothered or aren’t patient enough to await the desired result (cure) and have made a really ill informed decision.

I cried today because I hurt for the child who suffers. Because he has no voice. No voice to say no, lets not do that, I want to live. I cried because they wouldn’t listen to me. Most times in my profession you say something, and people listen. Most people here know very little about anatomy and disease, so giving them knowledge, to me is like giving them power. The power to understand and make informed choices. Why wouldn’t they listen?? I cried because the father was weak, to weak to stand up to his mother in law, he is a leader of a congregation but below his mother-in-law’s whiplash of a tongue he is a child, obeying whatever she says. I cried in advance, for this kid’s funeral. I will pray for a miracle, that that is not the end result for this child. I pray that hopefully the short course of treatment we have given might see him come out of the woodwork tomorrow. I pray that he will return to the happy cheerful and healthy child he once was. And i pray that the people of Samoa (not everyone, but the ones who need it) grow some brains and some balls.