If you live in Ouaga, will be moving here or even just know someone here, this is a good place to know about: AGIR medical clinic.
I was just there yesterday morning, dropping off a bag full of old prescription glasses. One of the many great things AGIR does is provide eye care and affordable glasses for needy people in Burkina. If you have old glasses to donate, AGIR will find someone that needs them, which is great!
They also have a regulat medical clinic that features two Belgian doctors that speak English really well. They are both missionary doctors and most of the money they make from treating well-off patients goes towards subsidizing medical care for the poor. They hope to eventually set up a mobile clinic to reach out to the poorest areas.
AGIR is in the Zone du Bois neighborhood, to the northeast of the University of Ouagadougou, very near the Lycee Technique.

I guess doctors are also on my mind because there are so many sick people around here. JP was up all night and feels dreadful. Mallory is being treated for malaria and the friend that the twins invited to stay the night last night has also come down with malaria. I think the girls all caught it two weeks ago when they slept over at a house with no screens or mosquito nets. Not a good idea in the rainy season in Burkina.

Only three and a half days left here in Burkina. It's hard to believe...

Have you smacked a mosquito today?

It’s World Malaria Day and as we STILL don’t have a vaccine, I guess us non-scientists can contribute to the fight by whacking a few of the disgusting little wretches.

Don’t get me wrong- I am really glad that this deadly parasitic disease is getting more attention. Half a billion people catch it every year. It kills a child (most likely an African child) every 30 seconds. Considering the fact that there’s a whole week devoted to Homeopathy Awareness (?), I guess we can give malaria at least one day. It has put me in the hospital three times and I am a relatively wealthy, lucky and educated person. Here in Burkina, it’s responsible for thousands of deaths every year and many lost days of work and school for those that survive it.

We are being told that a malaria vaccine will probably be ready by 2010. The good scientists at the Malaria Vaccine Initiative seem to be working hard on it. But they don’t have the kind of resources that, for example, Pfizer poured into making those little blue Viagra pills that have been on the market for 10 years now and that last year alone made them 1.7 billion dollars.
And given the way the world works, I think everybody knows that saving the lives of millions third-world people will never garner the same huge cash profits as perking up the wilting manly-bits of the wealthy.

Don't call me bitter- just call me frustrated. Malaria deaths are preventable tragedies.
And until we can make sure that fewer children die, efforts here at family planning and improving quality of life are severely hampered. It's hard to tell a couple out in an isolated village, far from decent medical care, that they should limit their family size. These people know from hard experience that deadly diseases strike hardest at small children.
With an effective and safe malaria vaccine available to everyone on the world, that would mean one less killer on the loose. And that's one less element contributing to poverty and hopelessness.



Coming up this weekend on this very blog : The Pagne Primer: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About West-African Wrap-skirts, But Were Afraid to Ask.

I am kind of forgetful lately. JP is asking me if it’s early-onset senility. But he’s just crabby because he has had to wear the same pants for about a week. I dropped off his other two pairs at the tailor and kept forgetting to pick them up. But I feel like I do have excuses for my forgetfulness. Yesterday, for example, besides writing a huge blog entry, I was also much occupied by Sev. He was pretty ill. Malaria, again. He woke up complaining of nausea, but as it was well-known in our household that Sev had a big geography test that day, his claims were met with a certain amount of scepticism. His siblings were merciless. I, being the mom, was kind but firm. I took his temperature (normal) and told him that without a fever and/or vomiting, there was no way he was staying home. He listlessly ate a bowl of cereal and then promptly threw up all over the bathroom. It was extremely convincing. So, he and I spent a pretty rough day. But thanks to the proper medications and a good night’s sleep he was perfectly well this morning.

Sev is sick. We had the doctor come have a look at him last night. It looks like a throat infection and malaria, with bit of typhoid fever thrown in for good measure. I'll admit, it all sounds dreadful. But that's life in Burkina for you. The common cold is a rare bird. We go in for the exotic around here: meningitis, cholera and the like. But at least the cures are readily available, for the wealthy, at least. So, Sev is on antibiotics and Malarone. He's sleeping right now and hoping to be miraculously cured by tomorrow at noon, when he is scheduled to take off on an overnight New Year's Eve camping trip with a group of friends. The church youth group has been planning this since September, so he really doesn't want to miss it.
In the spirit of optimism, I did start gathing his camping gear today. (As it's a church activity, I figure that God might at least make a little effort in the miracle department) I got out the tents and asked Sev which he wanted. I was quickly informed that there was NO WAY he was taking something as geeky as a TENT on a CAMPING trip. Geez. What was I thinking? Only very uncool people sleep in tents. Cool people sleep under the stars.
And I predict that they will be very cool people, indeed, as the night temperatures here now drop down to below 60°F. That may sound warm to you folks living in temperate climates, but to those of used to tropical climes, that's freezing cold!

I'm just back from my third and, hopefully, final stay at the Les Genets medical clinic here in Ouagadougou. Yes, after all my worries over the various illnesses of JP and Severin, I'm the one that ended up with a nice (well, not really) five-day rest at the hospital.
It all started innocently enough, On the 13th, I had a little nap in the afternoon. Unusual for me, but not unprecedented. But when I woke up, I was cold. Freezing. "Gee!" I thought to myself "The cold season is starting a month early this year. Global warming! Climate change!" But further reflection brought up the possiblility that a simpler answer, ie: my body temperature was freakishly high, might be more likely. I traded in Occam's Razor for a thermometer and found out I was at 102F and rising. But I had no other symptoms and hoped it was just one of those weird viruses so common over here. Well, it turned out to be a whole bunch of parasites. Creepy little things. I had to spend four days on intravenous quinine and spent my time alternating between vomitting, sleeping and staring at the ceiling fan.
So, that's what's been up with me. They let me go home on Friday night and I spent the weekend resting. I'm feeling a lot better today- not up to hitting the gym, but I am at the internet café, so that's progress.
When I arrived home on Friday, there was a "Welcome Back Home" poster waiting for me on the door. It was illustrated with portraits of almost all of our pets. (The chickens got left out, but I don't feel all that close to them, anyway.) I think Aslan's yellow eyes are especially expressive, not to mention accurately rendered.
BTW, Aslan is soon going to be pulling a tiny cart! Could this get any more fun? Stay tuned.

On Friday afternon, I had the kids all at the doctor's office for their school medical certificates. They needed them so that they can participate in the after school sports activities here. The twins are going to continue with dance classes, while Severin wants to learn fencing. But he wont be brandishing a foil anytime soon. He woke up Saturday morning with a fever of 104°F and a quick blood test revealed that he was full of parasites, more so than JP had been. So, he spent a long three days on the couch. He mainly slept the first two days, but yesterday felt well enough to watch "Godzilla vs Mothra" (The review I linked to is from a site called "Stomp Tokyo", which I think is an extremely entertaining name. Not that I have anything against the city in question.) In this film, Godzilla fights a giant(yes, you guessed it) moth. I feel a special connection to the insect, as my own mother was IN ONE OF HIS MOVIES! Sort of. She was in some of the crowd scenes in the original "Mothra "(1961), but got left on the cutting room floor. Still, as a child, I was firmly convinced that my mom was a movie star.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand: Severin watched the badly dubbed Japanese monster movie, got over his malaria and promptly caught a bad cold. Good health seems elusive. At least he doesn't have appendicitis, which we feared at one point. He had a pain on his right which seemed ominous, but it seems to have been a symptom of malaria and dehydration.

Well, I guess I won't be getting an honorary medical degree anytime soon. Despite the Quinimax, JP got worse. I had to call the doctor in yesterday. (Many doctors here do housecalls! How amazing is that?) Anyway, the doctor determined that, while JP has a mild low-level malaria infection, his main problem is pneumonia. So, now he's on antibiotics and forbidden to go to work until Monday at the earliest.

JP (the DH in my life, for those of you who don't know me IRL) came home from Bamako with a low-key, but somehow still fairly irritating cough. He's just been to a conference up in Mali and had had to sit out the last two days because he felt miserable. The doctor up there told him he had a "viral bronchitis" and sent him on his way with a bottle of cough syrup. I, on the other hand, took one look at him and said "Malaria".
"But they gave me a blood test in Bamako. They said I didn't have it." He protested.
But of course, all that meant was that he didn't have many parasites in his blood at the time. The amount goes up and down, peaking with high fevers and descending in between. I made him go to a lab here for another bloodtest and, sure enough, he had baby bugs in his blood. Lots of them at this point, as he had been letting them run rampant for nearly one whole week. Bugs in your blood. How creepy is THAT?
So, he's at home resting and taking Quinimax. It's nasty stuff, but quite effective. Very common side effects are: buzzing in the ears, sudden loss of hearing, dizziness, headaches, visual disturbances, and nausea. So, you spend the five days of your treatment feeling just as bad as someone who is taking nothing at all. But, of course, you don't die in the end, which is the fate of the many people here that can't afford even the most basic medications for common, dangerous illnesses.

What’s worse than getting malaria ? Getting malaria PLUS typhoid fever, that’s what. Take it from one who knows.
Last Sunday, I was happy checking my emails and contemplating writing a new blog entry, when I began feeling funny. Then I felt funnier. I laid down on the couch to watch a dvd with Severin with the idea that I’d just wait it out. Chills, severe stomach pain, lightheadedness…..something I ate? Anyway, I was convinced that watching Tom Cruise frown his way through the end of the world was going to cure me. You will no doubt be shocked to learn that it didn’t. JP came home from work (yes, the man works Sunday mornings) and found me decidedly feverish and pain-ridden. I still didn’t want to go to the doctor, but he insisted.
I wasn’t happy. The emergency room on a Sunday morning? Much too dramatic for me. Such a bother for the doctor. And there was nothing wrong with me that a bit of rest wouldn’t cure. Right? Wrong. I was pretty quickly diagnosed with two major illnesses, was given an IV full of quinine and antibiotics and a private hospital room.
This was at Clinique Les Genets, the smartest private clinic in all of Burkina. No cracked vinyl mattresses there. I had air con, a private bath and satellite tv, not that I did much tv viewing. I slept almost constantly for three days. My room was the Milou Room (Tintin’s little dog, for those of you that don’t read Belgian comic books.) It’s mainly a pediatric/maternity hospital, so all the rooms are called after cartoon characters. The Milou room is right between Snow White and The Little Mermaid. Actually, it’s the same room I had last January when I spent a week hospitalized with malaria. They should probably just go ahead and put my name on the door. I’ll probably be back, with my luck.
So, there I was. Not delirious, but definitely out of it. The door to my room opened and a swarthy, round, very short middle-aged man popped his head through the door. Definitely not my Burkinabé doctor or nurse. He excused himself and explained that he was visiting a friend next door and had mixed up the rooms. Fine. Go away.
A few hours later, the nurse escorted this same fellow back into my room. He introduced himself, inquired after my health and offered to do anything he could for my comfort. “I am at your service”. At first, I thought I was hallucinating. But he was real enough.
“No. I’m fine. I just need to rest.” Hint, hint.
“Yes, yes. I will be leaving you now then. But if there is anything, you have only to ask.”
OK. Weird, but nice enough. Whatever. Glad that’s over.
Well, guess who showed up in my room the next day? First the nurse came in, followed by my short pal plus a new guy in a very elegant suit. He introduced himself as the Libyan ambassador. He was delighted to meet me. He was ready to do anything to promote my health and happiness. “Is there some food you would like? Some reading materials? Anything at all? You have only to say” This was beyond strange. Until recently, US citizens weren’t even allowed into the frighteningly elegant Hotel Libya, an imposing edifice paid for by Colonel al-Qaddafi himself. (For your entertainment, here’s a quote from one of the Great Man’s speeches: " Now, America is stepping all over the world with its shoes. It is not afraid or ashamed and has no conscience. It scares everyone, and they fire missiles while they are drunk, and it sets the price of bread in the world. It orders the World Bank and the IMF to set the price of bread in Jordan. It tells them to raise it by 300 percent, and that happens.[passage omitted: more on US dominance over world economy]” I like the bit about the shoes. Question: Would it be better or worse if we stepped on the world barefoot?)
I vaguely wondered if the Ambassador had mistaken me for one of his compatriots in distress. “Do I look Libyan when I’m sick?” I thought to myself. Or maybe I look Swedish. Everybody likes Swedes.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you so much. My husband will be here soon with everything I need.”
They finally left and I had the presence of mind to tell the nurse to PLEASE quit bringing random people into my room.
As I got better, I thought more about my visitors. I became convinced that my Libyan friends had thought that I was a friendless, elderly lady that had been left alone to fend for herself in a foreign hospital. Have I mentioned that getting malaria and typhoid makes you look really hideous? ( Just yesterday I had a visitor here at home who said to me, and I quote: “Oh my! You look terrible!” )
When I told JP my strange story, though, he was convinced that the gentlemen had been smitten by my charms. Only a man who truly loves me could think such a thing. He also pointed out that it was a shame that I hadn’t mentioned to the Ambassador that we could really use a new car. Sadly, I was drugged out of my mind and not thinking very fast. I also have to admit that, charming as my dear spouse may find me, I think the most I could have gotten out of the deal was probably a slightly-used copy of Paris Match.