Starving for attention

There is one very weak elderly lady in the back of the ward. The women's ward is two separate rooms, divided by a cubicle used as a sort of nursing station. There is a small bed in there to isolate patients that are ill. The front ward is full of ambulatory people who can more or less care for themselves. The back ward is for the bedridden, or those who need more assistance. The sicker you are, the farther back you get put. Most of the dying are in the end of this room. This lady, who also appears blind, if the milkiness of her eye's are any clue, is seated on an old metal chair at the end of her bed, but leaning over precariously, too weak to hold herself up. The cook brings lunch in old 5 gallon buckets. She dishes out to everyone waiting and gets bowls filled for the other residents who are bedridden. She stands in front of this lady, and taps her with the bowl several times. When she doesn't take it she just starts to walk away. I tell her to stop, I'll feed her. Evidently...if you can't feed yourself, you don't eat. In the bowl, is a broth of undetermined nature, with what looks like a half of potato, some meat slivers on what looks like a neckbone, and a couple of thick dumplings. I sit her up, and ask someone to get me a spoon. The Aid wanders away towards the kitchen, never to return. I start feeding her with my fingers, and as soon as the food touches her lips she startles me by gripping my hands with amazing strength, pressing the food into her mouth. She is so hungry, she is sucking my hands into her mouth! It's all I can do to pull away and get more out of the bowl, so desperate is she to eat. I wonder how long it's been? With no teeth, she gnaws on the potato mashing it with her gums, and tried hard to eat the dumpling but it is like shoe leather and simply won't separate. I think eventually she just swallowed the whole thing. I learned not to give her a drink out of a disposable cup, because she crushes it to her mouth trying to keep it from being taken away. These people tear my heart out. I'm used to state of the art nursing facilities. Clean, crisp bed linens. Soft fleeces for sore, bony hips and buttocks. I don't care that the sheets are old, really...but some were lying on old dresses or suits. One gentleman in the other building slept on a garbage bag filled with clothing for his pillow. Plastic in Jamaica heat!

The very first lady I had a real conversation with, was named Gwendolyn. She was in the back corner because she was sick. I knelt down to talk to her, and I prayed for her healing, and then buddy did she pray for me!!! But she was laying on a filthy mattress, about 3-4 inches thick, and her head was on a pillow covered in mildew. For a long time, I just wanted to buy equipment and things for the Infirmary. I just wanted to see them in a comfortable clean bed, with a clean fresh pillow. Nothing fancy. A hospital bed that could be raised up so that they could engage in life around them....change position for pete's sake! It just seemed so awful. What I know now, is that were you to ask them, they would tell you how grateful they are to have a bed, under a roof, protected from the elements, and any soup at all bad or good. They don't love it there....most have memories of something somewhat better anyway, but they are grateful. And in the light of their gratitude, I see my immense ingratitude. When is the last time I can remember being grateful for my bed..my pillow, a cold cup of water ....there is only 1 poor person in the room, and she's not the one in the moldy bed.