Ol’Kalou

The next stop in our medical missions was the tiny village of Ol’Kalou. This town was of particular interest, being the hometown of Fr. Gabriel Waweru, who coordinated our entire trip. While there, we had the privilege of being hosted by his mother, affectionately known as Mama or Sho Sho. Several years ago a mission church was formed in the hills of Ol’Kalou to serve farming families and the elderly, for whom it was difficult to travel into town for church. We shared Mass with this tiny parish on Sunday and held a clinic on the following Monday. Providing a setting for medical clinics was one of the goals of the founders of this mission, and I had the remarkable privilege of being the first doctor to serve in this location.

A make-shift exam room was set up in a small metal pole building beside the church, while pews were placed outside to form a waiting area. There was such a tremendous turn out that we were 90 minutes late for the taxi by the time I had seen every patient.

Though my time in this village was brief, it was immensely valuable. I saw patients with serious illnesses who had not sought medical care in over a year. Patients came to the church with tremors, breathing problems, fever, malnourishment, and even tumors, and I had the invaluable opportunity to counsel them on their next step.

We were also able to provide many over the counter medications. In addition to treating illness, it was also enormously rewarding to provide reassurance to patients who came to me with fear over non-threatening symptoms, such as arthritis pain. Many people left the makeshift exam room with visible relief on their face.

As we drove away from this beautiful village down an unbelievably bumpy dirt road, I had been working for hours without food or a break, and I had run out of water. I was tired, thirsty, and hungry. My head hurt and, I’ll admit, I was totally grumpy. We were finally driving toward liquid refreshment when we noticed an elderly woman walking through the field toward our car. Fr. Gabriel’s mother recognized her as one of the women I had seen that day, so we pulled over to talk. Feeling exhausted and dehydrated, I was (honesty alert) pretty annoyed to be stopping to talk to yet one more person. As it turned out, however, this dear woman had walked home and gotten some eggs to offer to me as a gift for my medical care. All my annoyance and discomforts quickly melted away with her sincere gift. I was filled with gratitude, for her thoughtful gesture began to make me feel like my 11 years of training were finally worth it. It was a truly beautiful moment. I was reminded that temporary discomforts we experience while living out our calling, like tiredness, thirst, or the schedule of a medical resident, are fleeting inconveniences that are easily forgotten when you have made a difference in another’s life.