lake – sun, good conversation, lots of laughter, swimming, good food, and snorkeling among beautiful fish (there are more than 280 species of fish there). The lake is amazing. It appears so vast that at first glance you might think you’ve arrived at the Ocean; it even has its own gentle waves that lap softly at white sand beaches. This was my first real get-away here in Malawi away and I ate it up. It is only an hour’s drive from Lilongwe, but without a car it has seemed inaccessible. I’m going to have to find a way to get there via minibuses and plan occasional camping excursions, now that I know what I’ve been missing, I don’t want to go on missing it.Sunday we packed up early so the group could make their flight out of Malawi at 1pm. Some of them will come back in October for another follow-up course and I’m already eager for their return. In such a short time I grew accustomed to the presence of these midwives and physicians around Bottom, I looked forward to their smiles, hugs, and words of encouragement/advice. Just knowing they were around made the difficult experiences a bit easier to bear. They have left the hospital in much better shape than they found it but it will seem emptier without them.
This weekend was great, mostly fun and restful and but it ended on a sad note . . .
Saturday, as we were driving out of Lilongwe I received a call from Cromwell’s brother (Cromwell is my friend who runs with me a couple times a week) saying that Cromwell had collapsed and was in the hospital. He didn’t have any additional information at the time. So, when I returned to Lilongwe on Sunday, I made my way to the hospital around noon and found him asleep in bed with a glucose drip running. The minutes before he opened his eyes were surreal, finding him in that environment, knowing something was wrong but not having any idea of what it could be. I just watched him as he slept and he looked to be the very same healthy and fit friend who meets me at the gate at 5am for our runs. Nothing seemed ominous in the room itself, only one IV running slowly, no tubes or monitors or bandages, no hospital personnel, and yet at the same time two days had passed since he collapsed and he was still in the hospital. The best case and worst case scenarios sprinted through my head, but the minute he opened his eyes and began talking it became clear. The left side of his mouth remained fixed while the right side moved full of words and expression. Initially I hoped it was just Bell’s Palsy but then he said he couldn’t move his left hand or left leg either. He had had a stroke.
Thursday he had called to tell me he would be visiting his brother Friday and wouldn’t make our usual run. He said Thursday was a normal day, he even played soccer for about an hour with a group of kids. But, around 4am that night, he tried to get up and just collapsed because his leg wasn’t working. His brother immediately brought him to the hospital where they gave him aspirin and started a glucose drip. He said they did some tests for his heart and might have drawn blood (I was unclear about that from his story) but they have yet to give him the results for anything.
Why does a 29 year old have a stroke?! And, why is he still waiting in a hospital bed three days after the incident without any sort of assessment, knowledge, or care plan? He said a few times that he would be all right (another example of the staunch optimism of Malawians) and I certainly hope so, but I cannot imagine that he’ll be back to playing soccer anytime soon. I feel so sad. He is my friend. One minute he’s playing soccer and the next he’s a hemiplegic. He’s so young and was so active, and, not that tragedy ever notices but, he’s such a good person. I am learning an unfortunate lesson that is being repeated again and again, which is that all Malawians have had at least one major tragedy in their lives, whether on not it is visible in their outward appearance, you can be sure the story is there.
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