The Chaos Within - Saraswathi II
I visited Saraswathi this morning.
20 minutes before I got there one of Errol's client's expired. Tuberculosis. I was given a mask and rubber gloves.
"Come help us pack the body."
He was still warm.
Another client lay on the bed beside him.
"He is next. By this afternoon, maybe 2pm. Evening the latest."
This guy just lay there. His pulse was faint. His breathing was laboured. Tuberculosis was slowly claiming him too. He did not respond to our touch or words.
The other clients in the sputum positive ward: One slept soundly. Another watched us work as he combed his hair and gave himself a shave. And the other sat up and watched his fate unfold. There was no fear in their eyes. None that I saw anyway. Just... 'fuck it. That's me soon.'
We packed the dead body in under ten minutes. And then carried it out and laid it on the table to be claimed by his family.
The volunteers continued to paint and add finishing touches in the room next door.
I went up stairs to see Saraswathi. She was getting a sponge bath. She lay there stripped naked. Her skin pulled taut over her slender frame. She looked like a little boy. Breasts that had nursed three children had melted away. When she saw me her faced screwed up in pain. The ignominy of my presence? Can she be more humiliated? I stroked her head and left.
Errol spoke of 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.'
"Sometimes I just wish I had the stuff to end their suffering."
Saraswathi's eyes with her non-existent tears... fuck. I understand what he means.
In July I plan to spend a month with Errol with half of my team being trained in hands-on-care and 'packing' of dead bodies. There will always be unwanted and rejected people for us to learn from...
Everyone knows that Errol does not turn anyone away. A few months ago a pimp dropped off a young 17 year old. Her uterus was filled with pus. Even after she was sick she had been used to give clients oral sex at night. When the smell became overpowering and the pimp could no longer disguise her sickness, rather than abandon her on the side of the road and have the body traced back to him, he brought her to Errol. She died within three days. There was no one to claim her body.
Today Errol tells me that Saraswathi is worse somehow... and that she may have only 8 days left. I listened in silence. I went back upstairs and sat with her for a bit. She had retreated in to her distance. She didn't know I was there.
That call I dread can come at anytime now.
But I am not ready for it... I never will be.
20 minutes before I got there one of Errol's client's expired. Tuberculosis. I was given a mask and rubber gloves.
"Come help us pack the body."
He was still warm.
Another client lay on the bed beside him.
"He is next. By this afternoon, maybe 2pm. Evening the latest."
This guy just lay there. His pulse was faint. His breathing was laboured. Tuberculosis was slowly claiming him too. He did not respond to our touch or words.
The other clients in the sputum positive ward: One slept soundly. Another watched us work as he combed his hair and gave himself a shave. And the other sat up and watched his fate unfold. There was no fear in their eyes. None that I saw anyway. Just... 'fuck it. That's me soon.'
We packed the dead body in under ten minutes. And then carried it out and laid it on the table to be claimed by his family.
The volunteers continued to paint and add finishing touches in the room next door.
I went up stairs to see Saraswathi. She was getting a sponge bath. She lay there stripped naked. Her skin pulled taut over her slender frame. She looked like a little boy. Breasts that had nursed three children had melted away. When she saw me her faced screwed up in pain. The ignominy of my presence? Can she be more humiliated? I stroked her head and left.
Errol spoke of 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.'
"Sometimes I just wish I had the stuff to end their suffering."
Saraswathi's eyes with her non-existent tears... fuck. I understand what he means.
In July I plan to spend a month with Errol with half of my team being trained in hands-on-care and 'packing' of dead bodies. There will always be unwanted and rejected people for us to learn from...
Everyone knows that Errol does not turn anyone away. A few months ago a pimp dropped off a young 17 year old. Her uterus was filled with pus. Even after she was sick she had been used to give clients oral sex at night. When the smell became overpowering and the pimp could no longer disguise her sickness, rather than abandon her on the side of the road and have the body traced back to him, he brought her to Errol. She died within three days. There was no one to claim her body.
Today Errol tells me that Saraswathi is worse somehow... and that she may have only 8 days left. I listened in silence. I went back upstairs and sat with her for a bit. She had retreated in to her distance. She didn't know I was there.
That call I dread can come at anytime now.
But I am not ready for it... I never will be.
posted by Deep Griha at 3:11 am
2 Comments:
Hans, this is painful to read, and I mean that in the most sincerest, honest and thankful way. Thankful because you are describing what most of us would be happy to sweep under the carpet and forget with a sigh of relief. I can only begin to imagine what you are experiencing as those you have come to know so well are wasting away before your eye. It seems such a helpless situation at times - your work seems filled with moments of shadow and moments of light. All the best, Charith. (I'll post a link to this on the group if I may)
Thanks Charith, and of course you can post a link for the group...
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