...week 1, day 7...

So, after talking to the interpreters last night (10 Jan), I learned more about Islam and the Afghan culture.

Before I divulge, I'll mention my patients, new words, new names, and anything I feel is interesting or worth remembering.

I was Charge Nurse last night and had Nazia as a pt. We are working on getting her to the states for better care/surgery. From what I've learned, a lot of strings have been pulled, a lot of work is being done on her case, and money is being raised for her. Atiqula is learning English for when he goes over to the states, their mom accompanying them. He won't be at the hospital tonight since his dad will take over as Nazia's guardian for the next 10 days. I'll miss that kid while he's gone. He's a good brother. And Nazia...so cute...and so spoiled! EVERYONE knows her...even the guards and custodians look for her and play with her! For awhile, staff had to keep from feeding her because she relied on others to feed her, and from picking her up because she wasn't learning how to walk.

My other patient was Zahara, a 4 y/o (?) who was used as a shield during a firefight. I don't know all the details but she was shot in the head (dont know who shot her; no brain damage); 2 failed skin grafts; but the latest surgery was successful (so far). This girl cracks me up. You think I wash my hands often or clean a lot due to my germophobic-obsessive compulsive habits, but this girl...she'll wash her hands 3 times every time she's at the sink, ie. soap, wash, repeat 2 more times...and she's very thorough! She washes hands better than any doctor that I've seen, and I'm not exaggerating. Then she'll wash her face, a cleansing ritual done by Muslims before they pray. It's cute, for now, but I worry she'll get obsessed with washing her hands, and won't be able to break the habit. If it's done here in Afghanistan, people will know she's preparing to pray. If it's done anywhere else, and among people not familiar with Muslim rituals, they may view it as...abnormal.

The only new phrase I learned today is 'what's your name?', but I already forgot how to say it even though I used it several times last night! I'll record the other phrases I was taught previously, and will be taught hereafter, after I use them a few more times and am able to completely recall them (eg. 'what's your name?' lol).

The last of the night shift interpreters that I met was Marouf. The custodians that I met were: Noorullah, Shafiullah (Shafi), Hamidullah, Sayed, and Rafiullah (Rafi). Even though they tell me I can shorten their names because they're so similar and long (eg. Shafi), we'll see how long that lasts because I like knowing and using a person's full name, just like how I like it when people know, and even use, my full name. They politely laughed at me as I tried to sound out their names, and at my attempt to recall all of them. Meanwhile, they had trouble saying 'Maritess' so I told them to call me 'Tess.' That's nothing new; even people back in the states have trouble with my name lol!

So, what I wrote in my 1st post regarding bathrooms was true, but not for all people. It was in regards to the poorer populations, like those in the small villages/farms. But, in the cities, they have bathrooms ("Of course we have bathrooms" - Massoud).

I learned the traditional burial ritual (we follow these steps if an Afghan dies in our hospital): it must either be done by a family member or, if family is unavailable, by our Chaplain under the supervision and guidance of an interpreter; the body is cleaned; the head is wrapped with a kafan (basically just a simple plain cloth): over the top of the head and under the chin, with the knot ending on top of the head; the head "looks" to the right ("direction of prayer" - Massoud); the 2 big toes are tied together so that the legs remain closed, keeping the body presentable and not in array; the body is also wrapped in kafan; the kafan must remain clean for burial, which is why the body is thoroughly cleaned; when the body is buried, it lays perpendicular to Mecca (in Saudi Arabia; holiest city in Islam); basically the head faces in the direction of Mecca (which is why they turn the head). Massoud explained to me there's a difference in how men and women are married but I didn't quite catch what he said. Despite any variation in custom or interpretation, the ritual always includes bathing, shrouding the body, and prayer. I could tell there might be some sort of variation as Massoud discussed this topic with the custodians, and I heard 'nay' during their conversation as they tried to clarify and agree.

I love tradition myself (maybe I should convert to Catholicism? lol) so hearing their rituals is just so inspiring to me. It's not like I plan on converting or anything! Believe me, not even God Himself could get me to convert. He would have to make the late Great Pope John Paul II and my grandmother convince me! LOL Besides, I love Mama Mary a little bit too much; just a little bit. ;)

By the way, the ICU has a soldier who survived an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) blast. Praise God for that but there's still some sadness behind it all. I can't give away too much right now (especially online). There's so much sensitive information, and some of it gets leaked to the media when it shouldn't. I get angry when I hear that reporters might be calling for updates/quotes from staff. I don't EVER want to hear "the American people have the right to know," at least not with this stuff. 1. some of the patients they ask about aren't even American so no, the American people do not have the right to know 2. not all Americans support this war, so don't feed them anymore information that isn't their business. There's just so much politics here. I try to cover my ears since I came here just to do my job, but it's everywhere. When I focus on what's in front of me regarding the patients I care for, it hits me how serious this situation is. I'm not dreaming about my being here in a war zone in the Middle East. I'm not dreaming about the wounds I see or the stories I hear. It's REAL. I touch it when I change wound dressings. I feel it when I cry for the young military boy laying in the bed before me (thankfully still very much alive). I become a part of it when I put on my uniform everyday. Some people might be accustomed to all of this because they get deployed all the time. I hope this never happens to me because I never want to be numb to my patients and their situations. Now I see why the Good Lord has called me to serve Him, here and now.