Kris Massie's memories of Kitwe.
Part 10
The departure of many of our members (nearly all our trained personnel were expatriates on contract) resulted in suddenly finding ourselves heading the whole Red Cross unit. This meant taking responsibility for the two VW ambulances, a fully equipped Land Rover with radio facilities for contact with the outside world, the hired hall, working out rosters for attendances at events, fund raising, recruiting and training future First Aiders.
We designed a new uniform, grey dresses and trousers, and white shirts for the men. The standard navy blue serge Red Cross uniform certainly was not suitable for the tropics! We became involved in the undertaking of first aid duties at swimming gala’s, rugby matches, stock car racing, gymkhanas, the race course and the annual agricultural show to name but a few. We were approached by the then fire chief and the chief of police to train their personnel in first aid. Not only this, we were requested to work with them at the scenes of RTA’s (Road Traffic Accidents) now referred to as Collisions, shortened to RTC’s, thought to be a better sounding word. When they were called out we would be too, in the main due to Kitwe Central Hospital’s fleet of ambulances being severely depleted and the graveyard of carcases could be seen from the hospital compound - a lack of funds prevented repair. Not a sight for patient’s eyes for you could view the scene from some of the wards!
It didn’t matter what time of day our call-out’s came and our employers who recognised our voluntary work, were most accommodating. Thus commenced a memorable 7 years attending ‘RTC’s’. Some accidents were horrific to say the least and embedded in my memory.
The best was delivering babies and one was in the ambulance from village to hospital over a rough road, jolting along. My numerous requests for John to stop fell on deaf ears so intent was he on getting to the hospital! This instance I remember well as the baby had quite a long cord wrapped around its neck which I gently looped over its head having told mother not to push, but pant. All ended well, a baby girl whom mother named after our driver!
I and a few others then decided to obtain our Red Cross Nursing Certificate and started a training course in addition to first aid duties and still playing hockey – and working! Lectures were in the evening and our practical sessions were undertaken in the government run Kitwe Central Hospital in 4 hour shifts at weekends. We went through the whole gambit from medical, surgical to childbirth. It was fascinating to say the least and we experienced so much, probably more than we ever hoped for. One of the most horrific observations being the advanced stage of venereal disease; it was incredibly interesting as well as distressing - especially seeing babies born from mothers with Syphilis, their little bodies covered in yellow pustules. We took strict precautions of course and were masked and gowned. In the men’s ward I saw how the extreme cases affected them and a certain part of their anatomy.
I pick out the one instance when I nursed an elderly lady with Cervical cancer whom I sadly report did not last the week – her ‘release’ was a relief from this debilitating and awful disease. One of the Zambian nurses overheard me one day soothing the old lady who had repeatedly asked when she could go home and I replied ‘soon’. The nurse who nonchalantly stood in the doorway loudly said, ‘why do you say that? We both know she’ll be dead soon.’ I was aghast and hoped that the patient had not overheard and took the nurse into a side room and lectured her on the not to do’s and, her lack of professionalism. I just hope she remembered my words.
Occasionally giving injections too had its moments! I was called by another nurse one day who simply could not penetrate a patient’s skin. Try as I might … my goodness what a ‘hide!’ In the end the only solution which presented itself was to step away and by taking aim, launch the missile – Bingo!
Only in Africa!
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