On my first day at work there about three weeks ago, when I undressed the wound of my first patient, about 20 worms came falling out of his foot or what still remains of his foot. For me, each time I opened a patient’s wound, all I can think of is that he is dying a slow death. The smell of rotting flesh permeates the room.
Today, one of the patients coming in was a homeless child about 10 years old who I normally teach in the slum school in the afternoon. He has a small wound on his right knee, but it was deep. After I cleaned out his blood clot and drained the fluid, there was a hole almost a centimeter deep. Afterward, I saw him in the street with his mother cooking lunch of rice and dal. The clean dressing that I had applied about a half hour ago was already dirty from the dirt in the streets.
Every patient we treat is so grateful for the medical care we give even if it is merely antibiotics and cotton gauze we are applying. With the monsoon season fast approaching, the infections will get worse since they don’t know or don’t care to keep their wounds clean.