Uchungu

No, that's not Kiswahili for "sneeze." The word means "pain," and we've had a tad too much of it this week, thank you very much. In addition to our patients' always-serious problems...

On Thursday evening, two prominent human rights activists were gunned down at rush hour in a cold-blooded shooting in Nairobi. BBC News Africa reported the incident as "Murders Most Foul." Hours later, one student was killed by police in a related incident. An uneasy peace currently reigns on the streets of Kenya's capital, but the political repercussions remain uncertain. We are far from Nairobi here in Maseno, but pain and poverty connect us all. Violence and injustice weigh heavily on hearts throughout the country and throughout our world.

On the home front, we have renamed Rotary House "Ward V" and incorporated it as an extension of the hospital. Nurse Emmah is tending the ills of both of her guests. Meera, a bright young medical resident from the University of Vermont, arrived Thursday for a month; she is suffering from "Kibaki's Revenge" today. Meanwhile, I fell in love last Sunday (see previous blog) and began suffering those predictable pangs midweek.

Remember that walk SRAIGHT UP the rocks for a well-baby visit? Well, we had to come straight down them, too. I've been hobbling ever onward, but my left knee has been protesting vehemently. Now fully equipped with Gerry's ACE bandage, Nan's adjustable cane, and Rocco Monto's prednisone pack, I trust "all shall be well." (If it's not, I'll get an xray as soon as the hospital pays its electric bill and Kenya Power switches us back on. We have no MRI, no CT and no PT except my own progressive little rocks-in-plastic-bags routine.)

Uchungu. God bless us, every one.