Friday, April 8

Salha, our head of mission, sent us a text this morning, telling us to hold on. The message included a little wink: "Don't forget—the Licornes do not exist." [Ed. note: Licornes means unicorns in French] However, it seems they carried out around 600 rescue operations in Abidjan yesterday.

The market is a little more crowded and there's a bit more variety, too (but nothing to get excited about). Abobo is the best-supplied neighborhood in Abidjan.The hospital pharmacist has returned. The electricity and air conditioning are back on in the pharmacy and we're organizing things so that we can set up our pharmacy in there, too, freeing up the large recovery room that we've taken over. A steady stream of people with bullet wounds continues to arrive. Labor and delivery is working at full steam.

We are also seeing a regular flow of ill people:wasting syndrome, end of life, chronic illnesses in a complete state of collapse that we can't do anything about (including HIV, diabetic coma, and stroke).  There's malaria, too, which, fortunately, we can still treat.  

Deaths, explanations to the families so that they can take their parent home. That's hard, too. We don't have an experienced doctor, either (our young physician is working all alone and pretty much lacking support, in spite of the supervising nurse who helps him a lot). Five deaths today, 29 admissions, including 20 bullet wounds. The total number of hospitalized patients is now 78. No more 450 ml blood bags (we have only 250s left); only two more Determine HIV tests (we've been out of the Unigold for several days); no adrenaline; still no more valium or morphine; two boxes of examination gloves; no more tramadol; no more Ace Bandages; no traction materials.