Day Sixteen (July 18, 2006)

I have never seen a busier place than Tsepong the day after a long weekend and children’s day. It was an effort just making way in the hallway from one room to the next. Standing room only.

I have learned that a great way to calm a fearful child being examined by a stranger is to take their picture and let them view it. When they start to pose, you know you’ve got them and the examination is a piece of cake. So many mothers have gone against the will of their husbands and presented themselves and their children for testing. So many children will survive as a result. Their fathers won’t.

One of the clinic staff is 22. She has a one year old daughter who is an inpatient and is dying of HIV and TB. I saw this child on two house calls last week. Not even the Canadian healthcare system could save her now. As if that isn’t tragic enough, this child’s room-mate was admitted over the weekend. She was found abandoned in a roadside ditch outside of Leribe, fully dressed and carefully wrapped in blankets. I examined her. The thing about being abandoned as a baby, no one will ever know your birthday. In the first six weeks of life you can closely predict at least the week of birth with a good examination. My guess is 5 weeks. It happens a few times a year at this hospital, a new mother, usually sick and very poor, is overwhelmed and feels there is no other option. The stats show that there is a good chance this newborn has HIV. I scrambled to find out what her future would be. It will be left in the hands of Social Welfare. She will likely end up in an orphanage.

I schemed all the way home. She could fit in my carry on. How could I get her past security? Maybe if I speak to the hospital matron tomorrow, I could find a way to get her to Canada. Very unlikely, I have been told, but there is nothing to stop me from trying. I think we should name her. She needs a name. At the very least, she needs a name.