The Exception to the Rule (3 page)

Tricia got up to answer the knock on the door. “Well, I can see you two are getting all settled in,” Charles said, walking into the room.

“Pretty much,” I looked around.

“Just remember, bottled water, even to brush your teeth and no ice,” he warned.

“Can we take a shower with that bottled water too?” Tricia asked with disgust in her voice.

“She’s still grumpy; maybe we’ll get our old Tricia back after a good night’s sleep,” I said, laughing at Charles.

“Good night, girls,” he said, shaking his head and laughing, closing the door behind him. 

We changed into our pajamas and lay down on our beds. The room was very hot, and even with the windows open and fan on it felt as if no air was circulating. I tossed and turned forever. I was trying to get comfortable and drown out Tricia’s snoring. I closed my eyes and imagined myself walking along the bay, beachcombing. This was something that I always did to relax myself, as I finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

Tricia was already dressed and putting clothes away when I woke up. “Good morning sleepy head, one hour until orientation!” she said in her Mary Poppins voice, which proved my theory - all she needed was a good night’s sleep. 

“Oh shoot that’s right.” I jumped out of bed and ran immediately into the shower. I maneuvered the faucets trying to find the hot water. I finally figured it out. It wasn’t very hot at all and smelled of sulfur. I showered as fast as I could, not feeling much cleaner than before I had gotten in. I pulled my wet hair back into a ponytail and brushed my teeth with the half-empty bottle of water that Tricia had left on the sink. 

“That was quick,” Tricia said as I walked over to my suitcase to grab my black shorts and white tank top. I dressed quickly and we headed on our way. The large one-story building from last night was a lot busier in the morning light. Not that you could tell that it was morning¬¬, the only sign of natural light was coming though the small window located above the entry way door. Tricia and I flawlessly maneuvered our way through the crowds of people to finally exit the building. The heat that I had been expecting yesterday hit me in the face immediately. The moisture in the air made the humidity at home feel refreshing. 

“I feel like I’m in the sauna at my gym.” Tricia said fanning herself with her hand.

I looked down at the paperwork we had been given that included a map of the village. “I think we have to go over to this one.” I pointed to the building right next door. 

The building was almost identical to the one where we were staying. In fact, all of the buildings were pretty much the same. They were all one story, white exteriors with red roofs and very few windows. There was a small room off to the side where we were told to report, with a Spanish-looking woman seated behind a long wooden table. 

“Hello,” she said with a Spanish accent. “Can I please have your names?”

 We gave her the information as she looked through a huge accordion file, pulling out our paperwork. She handed us each a paper-clipped stack of papers with our names on it. There was also an ID badge containing our names and pictures that we had submitted months ago. She went over each page in detail, explaining that they would try to assign certain patients to us. It was very hard to stick to a day-to-day routine due to the overwhelming number of people in need. She informed us that there were other villages nearby that may need our assistance if their medical team became overwhelmed. But for right now this was where we would be most needed. We were officially starting tomorrow but she suggested that we use today to familiarize ourselves with our surroundings. 

We walked back out into the stickiness. We would be working in a small village just downhill from where we were staying. We walked slowly down, apprehensive of the conditions that awaited us. When we reached the bottom we saw a series of well-constructed huts and some actual buildings with several large medical tents intermingled amongst them. There were some homes that looked as if they were constructed of clay and others that looked like battered shacks made of whatever material could be found. I had only seen these types of living conditions on TV and in National Geographic magazines. To be here experiencing it in person was very surreal for me. There were practically as many goats walking around as people. We passed several boys chasing a soccer ball in an open area. There were two women dressed in traditional colorful African garb, each holding babies on their hips looking on. There was a group of school-aged children gathered in a circle intently listening to an older woman sitting in the middle reading them a story. The villagers seemed to be content with their lifestyle, seemingly unaware of the disease that prevailed. Most of them seemed unaware and unfazed by our presence. Others would just nod their heads and smile. 

We finally reached the medical building. Inside was a series of about 140 beds in open wards with curtains in between each bed to divide them. There were about twenty-five beds per ward. There was an intensive care unit, a labor and delivery suite, a laboratory, an emergency department, several offices, and a small pharmacy. The electricity was supplied the same way that it was to the building that we were staying in, by large generators. 

“Hello Dr. Vallia and Dr. Aller,” an older Asian gentleman said as he approached us, reading our IDs. He introduced himself as Dr. Chen and shook our hands.

It seemed as if every bed was filled and it suddenly occurred to me just how seriously in need these people were. “Well, Dr. Chen, we were told that we didn’t need to officially start working until tomorrow but it seems like you have your hands full. Is there anything that we can do to help out?” I asked.

 “That would be most helpful. But first let me familiarize you with some things,” he said.

 He led us to a large storage cabinet, showing us where all the supplies were kept. He gave us a brief tour of the facility. We walked through the rows of beds, where he explained that each bed had a number by which each patient was identified. I began to think how impersonal it was to be referred to as a bed number instead of a name. Then I heard Charles’s voice telling me not to get attached emotionally while I was here. I tried to dismiss my prior thought, until I focused my attention on a little boy who looked to be about seven-years-old. He looked so scared and lonely and I immediately began to wonder if he was alone. Many of the children here were orphans, losing their families to the diseases that ran rampant. Dr. Chen caught me staring at the little boy, confirming what I had already known.

“That’s Akin, he has malaria. He lost his father about a year ago to it, and his mother just passed away last week,” Dr. Chen said.

I walked over to the little boy’s bed. I could see where he had dried-up tears on his face. My heart sank when I thought of him suffering all alone. 

“Hi,” I said. He looked at me with big brown doe eyes and smiled. I knew he couldn’t understand a word I was saying. Just my mere presence seemed to put him at ease. Charles’ words were already out of my head. I had become emotionally attached within the first few minutes of being here. 

“He has a list of medications that need to be administered yet today, if you would like to tend to him,” Dr. Chen said. “At this point we are just trying to keep him comfortable and keep his fever from going any higher.” 

“Comfortable? He will recover, right?” I asked almost pleadingly. 

 He explained to me the type of malaria that the boy had contracted, which I already knew from my medical studies was the worst form to have. Eventually all his major organs would shut down. I had answered my own question that little Akin probably would not recover. I felt my heart drop as I looked at him. I immediately grabbed his chart hanging on the edge of his bed and started reading it over. He had turned eight-years-old two months ago. Everyone in his family was gone; he was alone in this world. I quickly gathered up his medications. I gave him a smile and rubbed his hand gently, feeling him clench as I administered the IV into his fragile little arm. I knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the medication would take effect and lull him to sleep. I sat by his bedside until his eyes closed and his labored breathing became more relaxed.

I was amazed at how quickly the unofficial first day of work flew by. The number of patients that I had seen in one day was more than I typically would see in a week back home. I couldn’t believe that there were so many sick children in one place. I had just about covered every age group from newborn to eighteen-years-old in just one day. I made one last round; peeking in at everyone I had seen for the day. I saved my last stop for my favorite patient. I smiled as I looked in at little Akin laying in his bed, even though my heart was aching for him. Here was a little boy who should be out enjoying life, playing baseball or learning to ride a bike, but instead he was lying in this bed waiting to die. I knew that this was part of my job, the part that I was hoping I would never have to see. But being in this place, a child dying was an all-too-common event. Still groggy from the medication, he managed a smile back as he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep. I sat by his bedside for a little longer just watching every breath he took. I was hoping that somehow he would be able to feel my presence and sense that he wasn’t alone, that someone did care. I finally got up when I saw that he had fallen into a deep sleep, checking his IV one last time. I caressed his little face gently, whispering “Good night sweet boy,” with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes.

Chapter 3

The weeks were flying by and before I knew it, I had reached my two-month milestone. Little Akin was still hanging in there, having a better reaction to the medication than expected. I didn’t want to get a false sense of optimism, so I decided to hope for the best but expect the worst. I was starting to get accustomed to my routine, my rock-hard bed, and sulfur-smelling showers. I was even finding myself thinking of Jake less. The thing that I couldn’t get used to was talking to my dad just once a week. I looked forward to our weekly call more than anything. It made me feel like he was in the next room instead of halfway across the world, even if it was only for five minutes. He always assured me that everything was fine and I wasn’t able to sense that anything was wrong in his voice. I had never been able to gauge his mood, even by looking at him. He was always good at masking when anything was bothering him. He told me that he had gone for his physical, which was long overdue. It made me happy that he had kept his promise to go. I would hang up each time feeling the same homesickness as always, but quickly snapped out of it once I began focusing on work.

I had finally felt like I had a good night’s sleep for the first time since I’d arrived. I woke up feeling refreshed, even though it felt like it was already 90 degrees. I walked into the bathroom and studied myself in the mirror. The bags that had taken up residence under my eyes for the past week were finally gone. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. My suntanned face was glowing. The blonde that was once only highlights had now taken over my light brown hair from being in the sun so much. I decided that I didn’t want to wear my hair back today, even though I knew I would regret it later in the day in the hot blazing sun. I slid my ponytail holder on my wrist. It would only be a matter of time before it went into my hair. 

Tricia was already dressed and pacing around waiting for me. We were attending a seminar that was mandatory for all available staff. Charles and James had headed out to one of the other villages hours before to assist. They were hoping to make it back in time to attend but were unsure if they would be able to. I had offered to go in Charles’ place but he thought that Tricia and I would benefit greatly from the seminar since it was the first time that either of us had been here. Tricia agreed to take notes for James, who was also here for the first time and would be missing it as well.

“Can’t we just skip this?” I asked as I walked out of the bathroom.

“Be happy - you’re having a good hair day!” Tricia said as she touched my hair briefly and we exited the room.

We walked into the large windowless meeting room that was already filled with people. We hurried, finding two seats together in the second row. The seminar was to give a brief overview of the current statistics of outbreaks, the areas most in need, and to answer any questions that we might have. The guest speaker was Dr. Julian Kiron, a pediatric oncologist. He had been over here several times to assist in pediatric cancer outbreaks that had been occurring recently. He was well known in the medical world as one of the most up-and-coming doctors in his field. I had read many articles about him and was curious to see the face behind the name. Although I had heard he was a dynamic speaker, I really wasn’t very interested in hearing anything he had to say today – my mind was a million miles away. 

Tricia read over the agenda for the seminar. I used mine to fan myself and shoo away the bugs. I wanted to get this over so I could go and check on Akin. I looked around at the other attendees. I focused my attention on a strikingly handsome man making his way across the room as everyone stopped him to talk. He was well over six feet tall with a perfect body. He looked like he was in his early thirties, with very strong features and perfectly pitched lips. His hair was jet black and cut very short around his ears with a little more length on top, showing off a very slight wave. He had a boyish smile that exposed two perfectly placed dimples. He was either born with perfect teeth or his parents spent a lot of money on braces. The intensity of his eyes could be seen from across the room. I had never seen eyes that blue; they almost didn’t look real. Tricia mumbled something to me but I wasn’t paying attention to her. I was too focused on this stranger who had just entered the room.

The room became silent as a short, stout woman approached the podium and introduced herself as Dr. Courtney Jones. I got butterflies in my stomach when the handsome blue-eyed stranger took the empty seat next to me. I tried to focus as best I could on what was being said as I checked off every item on the agenda in anticipation of it being over. I rested my head against the back of the chair and rolled my eyes whenever someone would slow down the process and ask a question.