Dr. Albert Schweitzer - Part 6 of 8

Usually, the accompanying members of the family remain in the hospital as long as the treatments last, cook for their sick, and look after them, and eventually take them home again. They bring with them cooking utensils and bedding. Whenever possible, I ask my patients for some tangible evidence of appreciation for the help they are receiving. Most of our patients by now know that the hospital is supported by outside donations. But I have always thought they would value the hospital more if they contributed to its maintenance themselves, according to their ability, than if they simply got everything for nothing. At the end of each month, roll call is held in the pharmacy. The patients show their identification tags with their names and numbers. This is the time to determine which of them may be discharged and remain for treatment. If we don't keep watch on them, our patients have a way of leaving whenever they feel like it, without giving us notice. The natives live here much as they do in their villages. In the general wards, there is no separation of men and women. Families remain together. The beds are wide enough to accommodate two or three people, and high enough so that cooking utensils, food, and water can be stored under them. As there are neither cows nor milk goats in the jungle, an African mother must nurse her child until it is able to subsist if dying. The babies are often three years old before they are weaned. When there is no room on the beds, the healthy members of the family are supposed to sleep on the floor. But for novelty's sake, sometimes it does happen that the patient is persuaded to let them try the bed. So I have to look out. Well ones don't take the beds and leave the sick to shift for themselves on the ground. Our regular morning visit through the wards brightens patients. It has been long for them, and they are always glad to see us. It is a special problem for a physician to treat disease under the conditions that present themselves in the jungle. He must be very patient with superstition and ignorance. He must understand the natives and discover how to adapt to native ideas the wisdom of his profession. He must dispense with most of the intricate modern appliances. This doesn't mean that the doctor should be unfamiliar with them. On the contrary, he must be so familiar with them that he knows how to do without them. He must practice a curious mixture of the old and the new. The latest drugs may be made available to him, but he will not be able, on the other hand, to count on a well-equipped laboratory. At Lamberini, we do not have many delicate precision instruments. The reason for this is that they break down in the aerial heat and humidity. I always prefer working on patients rather than on my instruments. A woman suffering from lockjaw is recovering slowly. We have eased her pain. There is more than gratitude in her eyes. There is also a question. This is an experience I have had over and over. A patient will take my hand and say in wonder as well as relief, I have no more pain. I tell him then that it was the Lord Jesus who sent the doctor to him, and the Lord Jesus who took the pain away. As midday approaches, the heat becomes oppressive. I find it best to pay no attention to it. That's why there are no weather thermometers at the hospital. If we knew how hot it was, maybe we wouldn't be able to stand it. Every day at noon, ration time is announced. All those patients who are not bedridden are called to come for their provision. They assemble at our storehouse where a nurse checks off their names as they receive food, bananas, rice, manioc, and palm oil according to the season. If we are not careful, some will go through the ration line again and again. This is not dishonesty. The African Negro, the child of nature, is a casual man. He is casual about material things and casual about work. In return for very little of his labor, nature repays him with most of the necessities of life. Beyond that, if he takes what does not belong to him, it is not because he is a thief, but because he feels whatever is, is his. From morning until late at night, cooking pots are on the fires in front of the wards. Each family cooks for their own. A native will not eat food prepared by someone outside the family. This is because of the poisonings that still occur if families who are feuding share a common kitchen. The nature of women. Sitting by a fire, a woman who cannot read is leafing through a fashion magazine that has somehow fallen into her hands. She is not convinced. A large garden extends along the river. In the rainy season, much of it is underwater. So much soil is carried away that after the floods, we have a big job replenishing what is left. Our best source of fertilizer is our goats. Year after year, we have worked continuously to create a garden of Eden around the hospital. We now have enough fruit trees growing here that all can take what they please and there is no longer such a crime as stealing. Under the direction of a nurse, two cooks who have been with us for many years prepare lunch in the staff kitchen. The big, old-fashioned brick cook stove, built by one of the nurses, has a good oven for baking bread. Every day, meals are prepared for about 25 people and often more.