Ya

Gabriel finally left the ETC 14 days after he entered it.  He left in the morning so I missed his departure.  Three more patients left the ETC with no Ebola infection.  The last time we had confirmed Ebola patients was two days ago: Mohamed and Yaema.  Yesterday when we rounded on them, they were both quite ill.  Mohamed started to cough up blood as we were leaving his bedside.  Other than the blood in the sputum, he seemed strangely calm and peaceful.  By report, he ate his dinner.  However during the night he became short of breath with chin thrust forward and head hyperextended.  In the early morning just before dawn he was dead.

Ten-year-old Yaema was brought to the outside of the ETC and she lay on her side on her mattress.  She had started to bleed from her mouth yesterday and that continued unabated.  On the side of her left foot she had an injury that was also bleeding, blood seeped through her dressing.  Her eyes were puffy and she closed them tightly, refusing to open them.  She did not want to eat or drink ORS but would accept some plain water.  Four days ago she was brought to the ETC by an ambulance.  Separated from her mother and everything else familiar to her, she cried,”Ya!” or “Mommy” in Temne whenever she was touched.  The caretaker tried to clean her mouth but she shrank from their touch.  When I tried to examine her, she said with her eyes tightly shut,”Gbe pe me!” (Leave me alone), seemingly echoing the reality that her mother had indeed left her alone.  

The only other Ebola patient in the ETC was Doris who continued to tell me bravely that she was alright.  Her mother died of Ebola on arrival at the ETC less than three weeks ago and because of that her family was put in quarantine.  Three members of her family, Fatmata K, Martha, and Kadiatu died in the same ward with her in the ETC over the span of three days.  So much tragedy in such a short time still had not dampened her positive attitude which moved me.  Indeed her eyes were bright and lively unlike those of her aunt, Kadiatu whose eyes lost the light of hope long before she died.  I prayed that she would pull through this horrendous time.  She had a high fever.  The caretaker had stripped her down to her diaper and was sponging her.  Her nose no longer bled but her diarrhea persisted and she complained of abdominal pain which she told me was only diminished slightly by paracetamol.  I wrote for her to get tramadol, a stronger pain medicine.

In the mid-afternoon, the burial team came to the morgue to take Kadiatu and Mohamed on their final journey to the Lunsar Cemetery.