I am walking down to do my session at Philanjalo, our anti-retroviral medication clinic where the 450 odd HIV+ patients in the area around the hospital eligible for anti-retroviral treatment are managed. Over 2500 people in our district are on treatment at the moment – an impressive number nationally speaking but still a fraction of those requiring it. I am still chuckling over the wording of a referral note from a local clinic, “Patient suffering from virginal sores – has nasty sores on the virgin.”
I walk into clinic. Sister sees me and shouts.
“Hauw, doctor! Where have you been?”
“I have been in
“But you did not tell me – you just left!”
“I told one of your staff and I arranged Dr Magnus to cover me,” I say somewhat defensively.
“I did not know – you did tell me!”
“I am sorry, I could not find you.”
“But you are our Baba! What kind of father abandons his children like you abandon us!”
“I apologise. I am a bad father.”
“A Baba cannot leave his children. He cannot go away without telling them!”
“I am sorry. I failed you.”
“You did. You are an absent father!” She is smiling.
“I can change,” I tell her, “I can do better if you will let me try!”
“You must! You cannot leave us again.”
“I won’t.”
“OK – now, come this way.” She leads me to my room and I get to work.
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