SOOO PAINFUL

"Sooo painful." This is my mentor's favorite line to use when the Botswana medical system makes things interesting. Whether it's the radiology department misplacing the codebook that identifies all x-rays ever taken at Princess Marina Hospital, the electronic medical records system crashing for a week due to a leak in the roof that damaged the server, or 85% of all medical charts mysteriously disappearing before they reach the medical records department, we simply say, "So painful."

I had my ultimate painful moment yesterday. I returned to the trailer of emergency department records to start documenting more cases of pneumonia. Remember the trailer/dumpster of records? I'll refresh your memory:

And here's what I found when I opened the door yesterday:

My jaw dropped. "SO PAINFUL." Those are not emergency department records forming that barricade between me and my research. Those are thousands of "old hospital charts" with the word "CONFIDENTIAL" across the front.

I picked up one box to try to clear a trail to the back, and it immediately collapsed into a mush of flimsy cardboard, and the confidential records spewed all over the place. I wiped my sweaty forehead and trudged back into the ED. Head nurse Mma Malatsi was in the middle of computer training, and she was livid to hear that all her boxes were hidden behind a monstrosity.

Apparently, she told medical records they could use the extra space as long as the ED records were placed off to the side. As you can see, that did not happen.

My next stop was to the medical records department, where I had to take several deep breaths before opening the door, because I get at least one marriage proposal per day from either the director or one of his interns (By the way, if anyone asks, my husband lives in New York City). Here's how our conversation went:

"Hi Josiah! How are you?"

"Emly! You never come to see us anymore. How are you doing in A&E (ED)?"

"I'm fine. I was just trying to get some of the A&E boxes, but they are all blocked in! Do you think it will be possible to get to my records?"

"No, I don't think it will be possible."

"Well, I can move them myself, but is there someone who can help me?"

"No, there is no one."

"Okay, thank you, well then I can move them myself?"

"Yes, you can take all the medical records out and then put them back in."

"Tanki rra. Gosiame."

"Okay, Emly! Come say hi to us again soon! You never come anymore!"

After asking around the office about how best to handle this situation, it was decided that tomorrow, Miseki, gardener-slash-poolboy, and I will be sharing in the manual labor of taking out the new medical records, switching them with the ED records, and then putting them all back in. Poor Miseki is about 5'5" and has no idea what is in store for him.

On the bright side, look what just got fixed in the ED office! Now I will be able to see all the medical records...that I can no longer access. So. Painful.