The last three shifts of work went by really fast.  I worked nights which was from 930 pm to 7am.  I'm starting to feel more comfortable, but still do not know where everything is quite yet.  Working nights included getting vitals, performing assessments, passing meds, tube feedings, trach care and preparing people for surgery in the morning.  The difference here is that you have to start getting everything ready way ahead of time compared to the hospital I work at because everything takes much longer without the luxury of computers and other technology.  I had six patients the other night which is the most I've ever had in my life, but the patients we do surgery on usually do not have extensive medical history and do not have very many medications.  One of the 2 year olds we were preparing for surgery in the morning on Monday was screaming at the top of her lung waking everyone up on the unit since she wasn't allowed to eat for several hours due to the cleft lip surgery she was about to receive.  No matter how much her mother and nurse tried to console her she would not stop crying.  Finally when one of the male Togo day worker translators arrived in the morning the baby's nurse asked him to hold her.  She pretty much instantly stopped crying and just stared at him looking up in awe and fell asleep.  We now call him the baby whisperer.

The man who had his giant tumor removed from his throat that I've had since before he got his surgery is doing quite well and took pictures of all his nurses.  He got really into the championship soccer game between Zambia and the Ivory Coast.  The people here are all really into soccer.  There are constantly people playing soccer on the beach and on the streets in the village.  The day workers and all the patients had their eyes glued to the TV the last few seconds of the game during overtime.  Most of the people were rooting for Ivory Coast, except for a few.  They were all heartbroken when one of the players missed several final penalty kicks and the game was over with Zambia being victorious.  However, it was a great day for Zambia.  They dedicated their victory to their 18 players who all died in a plane crash during the evening of  April 27, 1993.

The sense of comraderie amongst the patients and people here is refreshing.  I was told they would think we were punishing them if we gave them their own room or isolated them from everyone else. They like to learn together and feed off each other whenever we're doing teachings about their different surgeries. It is very frustrating though that I can't talk to them directly since I don't speak French and have to go through a translator anytime I want to say something.  I am getting really good at charades though!