Its 1 am and I lie wide awake on a hospital floor next to
my host mom and a women I never met until today how I ended up on this floor I
will get into but this will be one of those stories that will unfold in various
sequences. This hospital floor is not any floor but some smaller run clinic to
the soviet hospital; yeah really there are still things with the name soviet in
it even after that wall came down. I am not going to lie the way this hospital
looks and is run is pretty much how you would think some 1970’s propaganda ad
might be made by America except its not propaganda and I am living it as we
speak. In fairness it seems like they
tried to spiff it up but just miss the mark where the walls are chipping away
and brown streaks run down them. The beds are in a row of 6 the mat’s given to
the patients to sleep on is full of rips and tears. Due to the fact the
hospital has no one to do the nurses assistant job its left up to the families
which adds about 20 to the room I am in while we all share the floor and
bathroom together. However when your poor in Cambodia this is upper scale at
350 dollars for a 5 day stay and surgery its pretty pricy and if this didn’t
exist maybe some people would be worse off always a catch 22 ay. I know some of you are frantically wondering
why the f*!@$ am I on this floor did I die did peace corps forget about me no
no nothing like that have no fear it all started about 2 weeks ago… my host
sister developed a cyst it was drained but it just was not getting better so
come this past Monday I went with her to the Japan hospital where she was
informed it was infected and had to be cut off (japan hospital was to
expensive) anyways the next day she went back with my host mom and found this
gem I came later that day in order not to have them over pay due to my white
skin. So I arrived while she was already under the knife and did not really
know what to except its been a week now of life on this hospital floor so I
think its fair for me to talk about my cultural observations and how mentally
draining it is to ignore all your own cultural normative behavior in a serous
situation like being in a hospital. So they wheel her out and the drs get her
on the bed where it becomes apparent they did not just numb the area where the
cyst was but her whole lower body thoughts on this is that it seems odd and I
am pretty sure there was not special person doing the drugging which is the
next thing I notice sever itching on the skin feeling which I am pretty sure is
a side effect of using to much morphine. Due to being numb from the waste down
they put a catheter in her and not well might I add ill get to that later. She
was not in to much pain at this point in time until the dr came out with the
cyst to show us it was pretty freaking big and this made her cry and I think
from that moment on she just let down her emotional block bc she is just that
type of person who pretends things are always fine. I also think that its
really hard for her to get my host moms attention which I feel bad about bc its
so easy for me to get her attention I sometimes wonder if this ever got to
jentee with me living with her but I don’t know if she would ever admit it to
me or not (coming soon is a whole post on my theory on host families). This
caused my mom to stop selling and freaking out on her and give her attention
and I think this sort of allowed her to be more expressive with her pain if
that makes sense to you the reader I don’t know. That first night I did not get
to sleep one because I was in charge of having to change the pee bag I WILL
NEVER TAKE FOR GRANTED HOSPTIAL ASSISTANTS THAT DO THAT STUFF FOR REAL! The
other was bc im pretty sure they put the stupid thing in wrong so she was up
all night crying that it was pitching her and ill be honest I did not know what
the f!#@$% to do bc there are no real drs or nurse on staff just some guy you
can call to change an iv bag if it goes empty. So I did the only thing I could
do stay up and hold her hand which im still not sure if she wanted this is one
of the cultural things I notice there is not so much touchy feely stuff but
part of me just went with it and hoped it was not annoying her. Well after the
dr got there the next morning and me auguring for them to take out the stupid
thing next came 6 shots of I don’t know what this bothered me that there was no
real charts to look at or they never tell u want they are giving u and what for
consent all of that stuff I assume you have to do as a dr. well that first day
she was getting better but then bare with me for a min bc you will all think im
crazy bc u don’t live in Cambodia but just trust me okay… these shots that were
supposed to be helping ended up causing such bad back pain she could no longer
sit up and im convinced they did it because of me. Why because of me bc they
wanted to make her stay longer to charge her more money and my presences is a
social mark of wealth and I feel supper shity about this that one these people
could be so heartless to causes someone pain and im part of the reason makes me
feel so sad and empty. I know luis is reading this and saying u don’t know that
and a lot of u most likely think the same thing let me back up my claim the
lady next to her who had to have throat surgery was way worse off then her and
they stopped giving her shots pretty early on and she recovered one to three no
issues it was only my host sister and one other guy in the room who happens to
come from a wealthy family that just seemed to get worse I don’t think this is
coincidence. Knowing this I would love to have asked what they were doing but I
had to save face and cultural norms so I stayed silent even though it still
killing me now. Most of you know me I barely fit into American culture bc I
don’t know if I believe in normal I just go with what feels right and sitting
there with someone in so much pain they cant sleep it does not seem right to
treat the drs around her like god and keep silent. Sigh okay lets fast forward
a bit I have spent 5 days in the hospital now and got to know the people in the
room quite well read there palms “fit in enough” im pretty sure I shaped there
few of all Americans which is odd. My sister still cant sit up I keep putting
hot pads on her that I have been buying and putting khmer medicine on her to
rub into her muscles I don’t know that its helping her that much. I have to
leave because im moving into my new apartment today then I will be heading back
with my host sister jentu to have a sleep over. I guess I should mention jentu
hates hospitals, which is why I was staying over night and not her but jentu is
the emotional sister you can ask my mom and my aunt about her personality
anyways she was crying the taxi ride back. She still really doesn’t get what’s
wrong with jentee but that’s okay eventually jentee can get her to understand
bc im to lazy and worn out. To add to all of this there have been other things
going on with other people I am close with in this country. One of my students
called me up crying and explain to me that the women I met when I ate rice at
her house was her aunt not mom that her mom died she is a an orphan. I am all
like okay but then she informs me her aunt beats her and kicked her out of the
house because she not really her daughter. Then the girl I think I have
mentioned be4 on this blog Sopennith who was studying to be a dr had to drop
out bc of money and I tried to help her write letters for scholarships ect with
no avail =( now she dropped out of college will she ever go back I don’t know.
Next is the cream of wheat guy no giving a shit his wife is in the hospital
making very little effort to help her I had to write an email today to ask for
money which makes me so sad that I have to do this. On top of that with him I
keep lying to jentee so she is not sad telling her that he has been email
asking about her I figured its not good for her to be hopeless while trying to
get better sigh is that the right thing to do I have no idea. I know life is
not fair and I know we tell kids this all the time I just wonder why it has to
be unfair and why do we want people to accept it? Some days its harder then
other to accept that my presents can not really change things and people as
much as I wish it could and in the two years since being in my village I have only
really had the chance to work with a few people closely and even at that I can
not change there socioeconomic status enough to make sure they achieve there
dreams. Its hard to say that I am a failure bc in some ways im not but in other
ways it is pretty evident I am but it is this complex dynamic of working in
development that has helped me grow as a person. So until next time peace out
from the other side of the world!
