National Geographic : 1964 Sep
And it really isn't hard to see why. If I believed that a patient's recovery depended solely on fate, would I really be conscientious about doing everything that scientific theory tells me to do? Would I always see that medicines were given at prescribed times, in prescribed doses? Would I make sure that everything that needs to be sterile really is? Tradition is hard to defy, but education and the impact of outside ideas are modifying the role that this pessimistic philosophy plays. Otherwise the frustrations of working day after day with little or no progress would be unbearable. At present I am working in the 36-bed pediatric ward of the hospital. Can you imag ine trying to provide adequate nursing care for the very ill, making all the formulas, feed ing the babies, ordering medicines daily, per 322 forming all the ward's administrative detail, (C NATI seeing that all the children get their baths and at the same time keeping out of mischief the majority of the 36 who are out of bed running around? At times it is hair-raising, but mostly it is not only fun, but also satisfying. How many times have I wished for my camera as I've watched one of the children, well and happy after a healed fracture or a corrected nutri tion problem, waving Kwaheri-"Goodbye." The Strange Becomes the Familiar Besides hospital duties, all of us do some teaching. Three of the present five instructors in the Tanga Hospital Training School for Nurses are Peace Corps Volunteers. They teach medical and surgical nursing, pharma cology, and anatomy and physiology to both first- and second-year students. I have been teaching health science at the Government Secondary School in town. ONAL GEOGRAPHICSOCIETY Sunrise glows on tattered sail as an outrigger canoe points its prow into the Indian Ocean off Kigombe, Tanganyika. Ruth Dygert, going out for skin diving and spearfishing, is a guest of the fishermen. She keeps fingers clasped around her knees. "Once," she explains, "I saw a shark staring at me as I trailed my hand in the sea." Awed youngsters in Ki gombe, 20 miles south of Tanga, watch Miss Dygert's medical magic ease the dis comfort of an ailing baby. Flattened cardboard carton protects the infant from the cot's irksome cords. "We have a standing invi tation," says Miss Dygert, "to spend weekends with our friends at Kigombe. But free weekends are few."