She's only 26

She's a year older than I am. Her pregnant belly is hidden behind the fluid collecting in her abdomen and lungs because she has advanced Tb. Her body's immune system is useless because of the HIV that has been silently killing off the only cells that can defend her. She sits patiently, smiling even, while I drain fluid from her belly so that she can rest more comfortably and tells me in Chechewa that she doesn't mind because she just wants to get better. This is her third pregnancy. I do not know if her other children are living and, if they are, who is caring for them. Her mother sleeps beside her on the floor. She is also weak having already outlived the 38 years that is expected of the average Malawian. I run uselessly around the hospital trying to collect the results from her blood tests and making sure that she receives the medication needed. I have at least 5 other patient's with stories like this one and there is so very little that I can do. I come home frustrated by the lack of resources, but content that I gave all that I could this day. It is difficult to reconcile this world with the one waiting for me at home. I will add this to my other experiences in lands with limited resources and know that again I am changed. I juggle the frustrations with my excitement about moving to a new city, starting a new job, and getting to live close to Ankoor after nearly 3 years of a long distance relationship. It has been a growing experience to say the least.

On a happier note, I have fun plans for the weekend while the rest of the group enjoys Lake Malawi:
Friday: Enjoy a few hours of solitude...and then watch a movie with some new friends from the states.
Saturday: drive for hours in the car to a village in the southern part of Malawi to spend the day with my favorite intern and experience what village life is like.
Sunday: attend Catholic mass with my favorite midwife on the labor ward and go out to eat with her after.

I'll let you know how it goes. Sorry if this blog bummed you out too much.