Welcome to my blog!
I’m so happy you’ve joined me while I complete my VSO placement at Abi Adi Hospital – thank you so much for your help. Inevitably there are challenging moments here and knowing I have your support in the UK keeps me going.
I always knew that working in a developing country would be tough. But until you get here, it’s hard to comprehend how under-resourced the healthcare system in Ethiopia is compared to what we’re lucky enough to have in the UK.
I’m sure that like me, you’re shocked by the statistic that just one in ten babies here is delivered by a medical professional. As a result, the number of Ethiopian mothers dying in childbirth is heart breaking - 676 per 100,000 live births. This is 56 times higher than in the UK.
VSO is dedicated to changing these alarming statistics by improving healthcare for Ethiopian mothers and babies. I’m proud to be playing a part in that here at Abi Adi Hospital – and that’s thanks to you.
Under-resourced Caesarean sections
I’ve been particularly struck by how Caesarean sections are done here – they are very, very different to what I’m used to at home.
I’ve discovered that C-sections are common in Ethiopian hospitals, as it can be incredibly dangerous for a woman to give birth naturally here. Poor nutrition and pregnancy at a young age (due to early marriage) often mean that the pelvis is too small for a normal vaginal birth. Obstructed deliveries can be dangerous and, in the most upsetting circumstances, potentially fatal for both mother and baby.
These things can be incredibly tough to see because I know that with the resources we have in the UK, they either wouldn’t have occurred at all, or the outcomes would be so much better.
C-sections can reduce the dangers of obstructed births but they carry their own risks. The lack of resources alone is of course a problem. For example, ordinary soap is used for scrubbing up, when what’s really needed is a proper antiseptic. There are no obstetric gloves – long ones that reach above the elbow – so we have to improvise with standard gloves.
Mum misses out
Perhaps most significant is the lack of anaesthesia options. At home, most C-sections are done under local anaesthesia, which numbs just the lower part of the body. A lack of resources means this often simply isn’t an option here, so mothers have a general anaesthetic, something that only happens during emergencies in the UK. Not only can this be dangerous, it also means the mother doesn’t see, hear or feel any of her labour and she misses out on those first wonderful bonding moments with her new-born baby.
Warm words for mothers
As you know, a C-section is major surgery, and major surgery is a scary thing! At home we talk to the mother as much as possible, reassuring her and explaining exactly what we’re doing. We want to make her feel calm and in control.
Unfortunately, I’ve not seen many of my Ethiopian colleagues reassuring mothers like we do at home. They are so overstretched that they just don’t have time to build relationships with their patients. So I’m planning to run some workshops to emphasise the importance of taking time to talk with patients. Just a few kind words will make an enormous difference - not just to the mothers in surgery for C-sections, but for every woman who comes to Abi Adi Hospital to have her baby.
First training in two years!
As well as sharing my skills with my colleagues, I’m also able to step in and give hands-on care to patients. This gives my usually overstretched colleagues the chance to take time off for their own professional development. It’s so important that they get opportunities to do this. It helps them stay updated with the latest medical knowledge and, crucially, it keeps them feeling motivated and valued.
My colleague has been so busy that it’s been two years since he’s received any formal training. So recently I stepped in and - rather nervously I’ll admit! - took sole responsibility of the Obs and Gynae department so he could go for some long-awaited training.
I arrived at work at 8am and immediately bumped into Labour Ward Sister who asked if I could come and see a potential C-section patient. After donning the compulsory white coat, I headed over to Labour Ward and examined the patient. Inevitably, language was a barrier, as Sister only speaks a few words of English and I only know a few of Tigrinia!
The first Ethiopian baby I delivered
Ithought I may be able to do an instrumental delivery but I soon realised that it was going to have to be another C-section. Fortunately, everything went smoothly. I phoned the anaesthetist, alerted the theatre team and off we went. Soon we had a happy mum, a healthy baby and grateful relatives!
Brunch for 30p? Yes please!
Anyone who’s ever met me will know that I enjoy my food. I’ve never been a fussy eater but experiencing different foods for an entire year is something else entirely. Fortunately I’d tried the staple food, injera – a large spongey pancake – in an Ethiopian restaurant in London, so I was prepared for its slightly weird, sour taste.
A recent discovery is ‘full special’ – perfect brunch food. It’s kidney beans in sauce, served with egg, yoghurt and bread. Tomatoes and chilli sometimes feature too. It doesn’t always look appetising but it does the job and at about 10-15birr (30-50p), you certainly can’t complain!
Thank you
I hope you’ve enjoyed my blog. I couldn’t be here without your support so I’d like to say another huge thank you. I’ll be in touch again soon but in the meantime, if you’d like to leave me a message I’d love to hear from you.
Best wishes,
Alexa
