Yesterday we celebrated the World’s AIDS day here at St. Francis Care Centre and Clinic with hundreds of visitors who came to learn about HIV/AIDS, be in solidarity with our patients, support our staff, and celebrate the progress we’ve made in dealing with the AIDS epidemic in South Africa. There were educational and inspirational talks, tours, and questions and answer sessions during the day, and a special evening mass at 6:00 pm followed by a candle-light procession to (and prayers at) our St. Frances grotto. Then, because December 1st just happens to also be Fr. Stan’s birthday (he’s the founder and head of all that goes on here, and is known throughout South Africa as a leader in care for AIDS patients -- and is tickled and pleased that his birthday falls on world AIDS day each year), our day ended with a birthday celebratory “tea.” I don’t know how many volunteers contributed foodstuffs to this “tea,” but in addition to the obligatory birthday cake, there were about 20 different other “sweets,” four different meats, chips, some fruit, and to drink: tea coffee, wine, and soda.
For those of us who stayed late enough to come to the party, the visiting, socializing, feasting, and general camaraderie served as an uplifting end to a worthwhile day.
After working four months in the hospice (working intimately with 20 to 40 patients), Tim has been rotated this week to the outpatient clinic (2549 patients minus those who have died or transferred to other clinics). We may now see each patient only every two months.
I (Tim) would like to give some personal reflections on our hospice work here. First, I am amazed at the results of the care we give with our meager resources. Latest statistics show that 46% of our patients are now getting well enough to leave us and live productive lives again -- likely the best record in South Africa.
Second, some examples of meager resources: a) for two months, we did not even have a pair of scissors; we had to cut bandages or adhesive tape with a knife or our teeth or nails, b) we have only one small, cheap nail clipper which just can’t cut the tough toenails of some of the patients, c) our one sphygmomanometer has broken twice -- for more than a week each time, we couldn’t take blood pressures, d) we continually run out of adhesive bandages, gowns, rubber gloves -- and must borrow from the children’s cottage or the clinic, e) there’s very little recreational equipment for the patients -- no books, some old magazines, no playing cards, 15 jig-saw puzzles (only 4 of which have all the pieces), no board games except monopoly which no one wants to play, no bingo cards, etc.
Third, we have food shortages. We grow our own spinach, cabbage, onions, beets, and some carrots, beans, and corn. Much of the rest of the food is donated by large grocery stores, so we eat a lot of close-dated foods, or foods just a bit past their expiration date, or slow-moving foods (food that “regular” people don’t want to buy. We have good cooks who make the most of what they have to work with: left-overs from one meal can be transformed into stew, left-over stew into soup, left-over soup into gravy; but they feed not only the patients, but the staff and full-time volunteers who far outnumber the patients. Ceil and I get tired of eating rice and gravy or corn meal and spinach, or chicken hearts and cabbage, and so about 20% of the time we skip a meal.
Fourth, the working staff (non-administrative) are underpaid. The average ward worker makes the equivalent of about U.S. $ 300.00 / month, while living expenses are similar to the U.S.
How do we get the results that we do? I attribute it to two factors. First, the workers and volunteers are here because they care; they want to be here, and they want to be part of something they can be proud of -- and they’re willing to make sacrifices to do so. Second, the general atmosphere of the hospice is that of family. The patients, the staff, the volunteers see themselves more as members of a large family than as a patient or as a ward worker or as a cook or as a volunteer. We’re all in this situation together; we laugh together, we mourn together, we work together, we play together; we care for and love one another. We share the African idea of unbunto -- of caring, sharing, and loving those around us.
