Phew...

So we’re into the 4th week of the strike now – and a resolution is still evading the men in suits in their corridors of power, far from the hills of Pondoland. News trickles in here – we don’t have a working television (the hospital apparently cannot afford to pay the licence fee) and my internet connection is an information superhighway only inasmuch as it is about as fast and reliable as the old dial-up circa 1996. South African media outlets also seem to have moved on little from those times, so it is with some frustration that I have to admit that the lack of activity from the government and trade unions may be real, or only apparent from this media-starved corner of the Eastern Cape.

Just as I’d finished typing that paragraph I received an email from my dad telling me that the strike has been suspended… Checking on the BBC website appears to confirm that which is fantastic news. Just hammers home my point though – I can’t believe that my dad, who is currently in Mongolia of all places, hears about this before we do! It's apparently not an absolute end to the strike - just a suspension while they consider the government's offer. But the trade unions have ordered everyone back to work from tomorrow.

That’s a real relief though – the strike has been “heavy, heavy” here in the last few weeks, as the folk around here say. I’ve never had to fill as many different roles in the hospital in my life. Last weekend was seriously busy for us on the medical front; but just as we finished our third Caesarean section of the day, my colleague told me that the cooks had heard a threat that people were coming to beat up hospital staff at Isilimela so they had fled and now there was no dinner for the patients. So she and I had to cook dinner for 28 patients – samp, beans, carrots and boiled eggs. Then last week the pharmacist was so scared that he refused to open the dispensary even for essential drugs, so we had to be pharmacists for a day as well. Not to mention being nurses, physiotherapists, plaster technicians, porters…

It might seem difficult to understand why people are so scared, but for example, a nurse at our referral hospital was stabbed by protestors disguised as patients, and subsequently died from her injuries. At our closest neighbouring hospital, rioting workers on strike set fire to a nurse’s clothing and left her with severe burns. And in the neighbouring province, a nurse was kidnapped by protestors who said they would not release her until the government acceded to the striking workers’ demands. Our pharmacist’s sister, who is a nurse in another hospital, was beaten up by protestors and required hospitalisation for her injuries (in a private hospital, of course, as no public facilities are available.)

So really, while this strike has been absolutely terrible for our patients, we as workers have been lucky, as we have not had any violence at all at Isilimela. It will be incredibly busy in the next few days I imagine as news filters down to the villages and we get an influx of patients who have been hanging on for weeks waiting until they qualify as ‘emergencies’ and hence can come to hospital without risking being beaten up themselves. Already I have been seeing patients who have stayed at home days or even weeks longer than they should have because of the strike, and often by the time they do come, it has been too late. Most of the death certificates I have signed in the past 2 weeks have been for pneumocystis pneumonia or cryptococcal meningitis, which we might have had a chance at curing had it presented even just a few days earlier.

In other news, I have moved house as my Belgian colleague has finished at Isilimela and moved on. So I am now installed in a much nicer house with such luxuries as a toilet which flushes, a bath, a bathroom door, a working oven/hob, cutlery, a microwave and would you believe it, a twin tub washing machine. Hand washing grows very tiresome, let me assure you.

I’ve also inherited a dog, an 8-month old mongrel puppy called Sushi who is full of mischief. He just wants to play all the time – unfortunately his idea of play is mostly just biting, often in very uncomfortable places like your heel, or your thigh. In order of preference, he mostly likes to bite: people, dead things, furniture, sticks, rubbish, excrement of indeterminate origin, and important electrical items. Food probably comes in somewhere between dead things and furniture. He has boundless energy and loves to come running, so I’ve taken to running to the beach and back (about 6 miles) with him every other day or so – it’s nice to have an excuse. An excuse that harasses me constantly otherwise, mind.

So I’ve added dog training to my activities, and also gardening. I planted a Frangipani the other day which I’m pretty excited about, and also a grapevine. Sushi has already uprooted that one twice though, so I’m not sure how well it’s going to do. I also have butternut squash, tomato, and pepper seedlings in trays on the windowsill so, give me a few months and it’ll be veg-tastic out here.

Off to Durban again on Wednesday for another conference – this time on TB, HIV and sexually transmitted infections. Should be very useful.

That’s probably enough for now but thanks again to everyone who has written/texted/prayed, really appreciate it. Will keep you updated as to how the dust settles after this strike – could be interesting!