Chaaria è un sogno da realizzare giorno per giorno.

Un luogo in cui vorrei che tutti i poveri e gli ammalati venissero accolti e curati.

Vorrei poter fare di più per questa gente, che non ha nulla e soffre per malattie facilmente curabili, se solo ci fossero i mezzi.

Vorrei smetterla di dire “vai altrove, perché non possiamo curarti”.

Anche perché andare altrove, qui, vuol dire aggiungere altra fatica, altro sudore, altro dolore, per uomini, donne e bambini che hanno già camminato per giorni interi.

E poi, andare dove?

Gli ospedali pubblici hanno poche medicine, quelli privati sono troppo costosi.

Ecco perché penso, ostinatamente, che il nostro ospedale sia un segno di speranza per questa gente. Non ci sarà tutto, ma facciamo il possibile. Anzi, l’impossibile.

Quello che mi muove, che ci muove, è la carità verso l’altro, verso tutti. Nessuno escluso.

Gesù ci ha detto di essere presenti nel più piccolo e nel più diseredato.

Questo è quello che facciamo, ogni giorno.


Fratel Beppe Gaido


lunedì 29 dicembre 2014

Have we been quick enough?

It is 7am in Chaaria and I am called urgently from the chapel where I am attending Mass.
“There is a case of cerebral malaria in a pregnant woman at term. Patient is gasping. Please, come quickly”
Actually I have really jumped out of church and run to the hospital, in spite of my age already a bit mature.
The lady was in the labour room and the night staff had already done a lot: we knew that malaria slide was positive because of a test done in a rural dispensary. The HB was good at around 12 grams, while the blood sugar was really low: the nurse on duty in maternity had already given her a bolus of dextrose 50%, while now a drip of dextrose 5% was running into her veins.
She was really gasping, the blood pressure was nose-diving and the heart rate was slowing down rapidly: “give adrenaline, add hydrocortisone, and prepare a second drip with half ampoule of ephedrine.  Put a catheter to monitor the urine output. Keep checking the blood pressure”.
But the monitor unfortunately indicates that the heart is not gaining speed, in spite of all our resuscitation attempts; on the contrary slowly it stops biting completely, together with the disappearing of the last gasps.
I start shouting: “Cardiac massage; please, ventilate with ambu bag; quick, quick”.



Meanwhile one staff is monitoring the fetal heart rate and keeps telling me: “fetal heart is present but it is slowing down”.
In the confusion of the moment, I answer: “what do you mean by that; of course there must be fetal distress because the mother is nearly dying, but we are trying our best with the resuscitation”.
At this point she calmly shows to me a scalpel and she says: “she is actually dead; the monitor indicates that there is no heart activity… but if you delay, also the heart of the fetus will stop for sure”.
I get her point immediately and I open that abdomen there in the labour room and of course without any anaesthesia.
I extract a female fetus, still breathing but in extremely poor conditions.
We start now the tensing maneuvers of infant resuscitation: the heart is slow; the breathing is difficult. We continue relentlessly for long time, but after few hours also the new born passes away.
The young woman was killed by malaria; was the baby killed by congenital malaria only, or maybe my short indecision in doing the caesarean section on the dying mother may also have contributed?
It was a matter of seconds, but…only God knows.

Bro Beppe Gaido


PS: la foto si riferisce al post di ieri. La persona che vedete nella foto è la dottoressa Nadia Chiapello che da tanti anni mi aiuta con la preparazione delle lezioni.  


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