As I enter D Ward, late one evening, patient Aboubacar's mama calls out to me and waves, her smile bright. But I signal to the ICU beds and say, "My husband is sick". Her broken English allows her to understand and her smile quickly vanishes. She shoos me away, understanding that I need to go. She knows.
For at least one night Andrew and I got to experience the life of a patient and caregiver on board the Africa Mercy after a very nasty bout of gastro left Andrew dehydrated and doctors unable to control his vomiting and diarrhoea without stronger medication administered through an IV. Luckily after several bags of fluids and a few days off work her was feeling much better, unlike many of our patients who endure weeks, even months in the wards often followed by visits to rehab and outpatients.
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