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Founder's Personal Experiences:The Story of Muna

Family 4: Muna’s Medical Emergency

About 2 hours after I completed Muna's family interview, I made my way back to the main center of Bandipur to continue work on other projects. As I stood taking photos for the Bandipur Library Renovation documentary, I saw Shiva from a few meters walking quickly towards the dirt road to the Bandipur Hospital. He had Muna slouched over riding piggy back, with his son Nabin walking alongside. I briefly looked at the group and Nabin caught my eye, I catching his. He didn't say anything but looked and then continued to follow his father. It was very busy that day and everyone was preparing for something - the children had their final exams at school, the rice harvest began, and construction projects could continue after 3 straight days of monsoonal rains. I continued with my work as well and went down the same road Shiva lives down to visit with the carpenter who was helping me with the library renovation. Hot, tired and frustrated, I came to an empty workspace as the carpenter had left for another project he was working on that week. I headed back towards the library. As I continued back up the hill, I was approached by a few of my students from my morning classes. They informed me that Ramsaram (the manager of The Old Inn where I was housed) was looking for me. I came to the intersection of Shiva's road and the main road and found Shiva standing there with his daughter still on his back, his son standing next to them, and a crowd of villagers feeding their curiosities and eagerness for a bit of village-drama. Ramsaram tapped my arm and told me that Muna needed to go to the hospital.

She had fallen out of a tree and hit the back of her head.

"The jeeps will not take her. They tell us they are on strike." This coming from Ramsaram as I stood examing Muna's head, Shiva with a panicked look in his eye but waiting patiently. Her head was bleeding profusely and she was unconscious. "No, no. She needs to go, NOW. She is bleeding from her head and she's not awake. She needs to go," I saying this as I shoved our way through the crowd and back to the village entrance where the Jeeps are parked.

Apparently, because Shiva is poor, he was not seen as being important enough to make the drive down the hill to Dumre Hospital. So, the Jeep drivers refused him, even with his dying daughter slouched on his back. It took myself and Ramsaram to insist that the drivers take her. While I was making a public fuss as to why the drivers needed to take her, Ramsaram went around the village collecting funds to pay for Shiva's transport costs and at least some of the hospital bills. Amongst other reasons, the Jeep driver finally decided he was able to take her to the hospital. Thankfully, one of Shiva's neighbors went with them to ensure she received proper treatment and that they were treated as a serious case by doctors and other involved individuals (the caste system is slowly dissolving away but in many rural areas it still flourishes).

Later that evening, we were told that Shiva and Muna were being transported to Pokhara at one of the private hospitals - her head hemorrhaged and she needed an emergency surgical operation. She lost so much blood that it took 3 adults to donate their blood to save her life (remember she is only 7 years old). The operation was finally performed at 2 a.m. - 9 hours after they arrived in Pokhara.

At 5 a.m. I was awakened by Bijay and Ramsaram. They informed me that Muna needed medicine and that the hospital would not treat her further unless her father was able to pay for the bills accumulated so far. I got dressed and caught a bus to Pokhara with Bijay. After 2 buses, a 30 minute hike and a dusty taxi ride, we arrived at the hospital. Shiva was waiting on the front steps to the entrance. He said Muna was not talking yet but she goes in and out of sleep. We got to the post-operation room where she was lying on a bed, jn just a hospital gown (no blankets or pillows), white wrap on her completely shaved head, and with tubes and I.V.'s in both arms. Bijay leaned towards me and told me Shiva said she had a scar running from the base of her neck to the crown of her skull. Her father gently woke her up and told her that Bijay and Niki had come to see her. She opened her eyes wider and stared at me for the next few minutes. She was not grimacing nor was her face turned down as though she were sad - she was frightened and uncertain. She was laying on her left side, arms and hands lying in front of her. I knelt down and placed my finger in her left hand. She squeezed and stared blankly at the bedsheets. While Bijay and Shiva left to speak with the nurses, I caressed her hand and she began to fall asleep. Bijay, Shiva and the nurse kept going back and forth between the desk and Muna's bed to write down all of the information we would need to pay off her hospital bills and to get the medication she needed (painkillers, anti-inflammatories, etc). I also kept having to go back and forth and everytime I did, she would wake up and stay awake until I was able to go back and hold her hand again.

Paying the bills was a hassle but when is paying bills ever easy, right? After approximately 10,000 NPRs (just for that day) and 8 hours later, we got everything settled. We headed back to Muna's bedside because any later in the day and Bijay and I would have to stay the night in Pokhara (again) because the buses and taxi's stop taking fares around 5:45pm. Bijay and I stood at the foot-end of Muna's bed as Shiva whispered to her to say good-bye to us. (translated in English) "Say good-bye to Niki. She is leaving now." Debilitated with her eyes beginning to swell she lifted her arm and flopped her hand up and down to wave good-bye.

She had not moved, not talked, not made any sign that she was coherent to anyone and yet she had enough energy to signal "so long".

I was later informed that she would have to stay in the hospital for the rest of the week. I had hoped she would return before my departure for Paris but disconsolately I missed her homecoming.

I have been keeping up with Muna's health through weekly phone calls with Bijay. She recently went back to the doctor's office for a check up and the doctor says she is doing fine and that her scar is healing nicely.

Shiva had to borrow money from neighbors to be able to take Muna to the hospital again. The only way I can get money to Bijay in Bandipur is through Western Union. As with most processes, this takes a considerable amount of time to accomplish from halfway around the world and from a technologically advanced city like Chicago to a rural subsistence farmland community like Bandipur. In the end, we manage but we need help.

Nichole, Founder

 

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