A Week In the Pediatric Ward

I spent a week in the Pediatric ward shadowing Dr. Lace, a pediatrician from Oregon who I’ve met in the States. With his help over the years, the hospital established an Intensive Care Unit for patients coming in with severe medical conditions who needed immediate care. The PICU consisted of about five beds with mosquito nets, a sink, a supply cabinet with a few medications, and an oxygen tank.

The majority of my time in the pediatric ward was spent rounding on patients; most of the pediatric patients were admitted with similar symptoms: vomiting, diarrhea, fever, and cough. Most were treated for malaria (if patient has history of convulsions) or pneumonia depending on the physical exam and chest x-ray. Because of the limited availability of medications and treatment options, most patients were given antibiotics.

Every morning when I walk into the PICU, I would hear the screeching screams of a young boy. He was born with cerebral palsy and has been staying in the ICU because his family neglected to care for his basic needs. He suffers from malnutrition and bed sores due to his inability to move. Although he is in a stable condition, the physicians hesitated to transfer him upstairs to the general pediatric ward. They feared that the family and nurses would abandon his care. The only solution left would be to leave him in the ICU until he dies.

Another young boy was brought into the PICU after he was treated at home with herbal remedies for a stomach ache and diarrhea. He presented with a distended and painful abdomen. The scars on his abdomen indicated that he had been treated with traditional herbal medicine that is common in the Masai culture. These herbal remedies have unknown side effects and may be toxic. The x-ray showed that the patient has gas bubbles in his GI tract. The lack of information and language barrier made the case difficult assess. The physicians were at a lost on how to proceed. They were unable to come to an agreement on the diagnosis and treatment. The nurses continued to provide supportive care, but after three days, the patient passed away. It is rare for a day to go by without a patient dying in the pediatric ward.

On a more positive note, I successfully drained an abscess. The patient was a young boy who had a large abscess under his jaw. The poor boy cried, kicked, and screamed every time he saw me. He knew what was coming. I may have scarred him for life—he will never look at another physician or white coats the same way ever again. After three days of draining and a course of antibiotics, the swelling lessened significantly and he was released from the hospital. Is it wrong to feel so good about squeezing out pus? It was like popping a very large pimple. Very gratifying.