Last week, I had knee surgery to try to remove the two pins
in my knee that were starting to bother me here in Uganda – you certainly have to be
much more physically active here on a daily basis than in the States! Hauling water,
traveling with backpacks, walking everywhere, using pit latrines…
Unfortunately, the knee surgery was unsuccessful, through no fault of the doctor’s.
The bone had already closed over the pins, and because of the extensive probing
they had to do, my recovery time was much longer than expected. There still are
some options for my discomfort that the Peace Corps is going to pursue; this
just wasn’t my solution.
However, my operation did lead me to discover a wonderful
organization in Uganda ,
CoRSU, the place where I had my surgery. CoRSU stands for Comprehensive Rehabilitation
Services Uganda. It’s a non-profit hospital that uses donations, international funding,
and money from private clients to provide free life-changing orthopaedic
and plastic surgery to children. 80% of physical disability in Uganda can be prevented, reduced or
cured, but often the families simply can’t afford it. Children with physical
disabilities and their families face a difficult time here. Ongoing medical
treatments and accommodations for disabilities can only be a part of it – in some
(but definitely not all) communities, physical deformity can still be seen as
the fault of the parents or the result of witchcraft, which can result in
rejection of the child and family by relatives and friends.
While I was at CoRSU, I saw children with all kinds of conditions - clubfeet, cleft lips, limb deformities, tumors, burns, and something I learned was called post injection paralysis. Seeing what so many of them faced certainly put my own issues into perspective.The operations that
CoRSU provides truly change these children’s lives in almost every possible
way. While my surgery wasn’t successful, at least I know that the money that
was paid for it went to an amazing cause.
On the sillier positive side, using Kris as my human crutch
allowed me to show him physical affection in public! PDA is a big no-no here,
even for married couples. Last week, I saw a sign from a major newspaper on the
way out of Kampala
that read “Government warns against kissing in public.” Check – we’ve been duly
warned. The sight of me limping down the street while Kris supported me also
garnered many, “Sorry, sorry,” comments from almost every Ugandan I passed and
a lot of sympathetic inquiries into my health. It was an interesting difference from
the U.S., where I feel that in many cases it would be rude to even show you had
noticed. There is certainly something to be said for living in such a communal
country as Uganda; the support from friends and strangers, phone calls asking after my health, and
offers to make cow’s leg soup have truly been touching – if also sometimes a
little unappetizing.
And, on the cool side, I got to remove my own stitches! With
Kris’s steady hand on our wind-up flashlight and a variety of tools sterilized
with supplies from our Peace Corps medkits, I snipped, sawed, and pulled out
the three blue stitches. It’s the small triumphs that keep you going!
Before...
Our assortment of tools.
...and after!
“Always seek out the seed of triumph in every adversity.”
- Og Mandino
