A Day in the Life of a Wound Care Volunteer

From the moment we arrived, Kolkata has become one of the most perplexing cities I have ever been in. As an American in this city, I have found my senses to be more stimulated than they have ever been. To give you the best sense of this, I want to take you through my day today.

You awake at Baptist Mission Society, a hotel for mostly volunteers located on Bose Road, not far from Mother House. The moment you exit your room in your conservative attire, you begin to sweat. The heat is heavy in India and the slight winds that do actually blow through offer no relief, seeing as the Kolkata air is heavily polluted. Today, however, the smog that usually hangs over the city like a room full of smoke is not as prevalent. Instead, the sun beats her rays directly on us and we sweat harder than usual, yet another factor that separates us from the people of Kolkata who are champions of this weather. 

 

You begin the 5 minute walk to Mother House, the home that has housed the Sisters of Charity and Mother Teresa since Mother Teresa opened the home. On your way you see people sleeping askew on the street.You see wild dogs and are unable to confirm if they are alive. You see garbage everywhere; it is as if Kolkata is your garbage disposal and there are no such things as trash cans and garbage men. You come across an area of the street where a small amount of water pumps into the street and men and boys bathe here every morning.You see street vendors and market men open their small shops and note the products they are selling. Would you buy lamb off the street if the man cooking wore no clothes, was shirtless, and washed his utensils in street water? Would you buy street fruit if you knew it was washed with contaminated water? 

When you arrive at Mother House, you become overwhelmed as you see images of Mother Teresa everywhere and the Sisters of Charity walking among you in the same robes Mother Teresa wore, continuing the works of one of the most incredible spiritual leaders of our generation. After prayer, you will head out to your work site, one of the Houses that serves certain needs and demands of the many suffering, destitute, helpless, abandoned, and dying of Kolkata. For me, I go to the dispensary held at Shishu Buvhan, where a general clinic is held for all people to come to with any ailment they have. I arrive early to my site, just before 8:00 AM and there is already a line of people waiting.

The sun continues to beat heavily as I take to my station, Wound Care, where I will treat the many wounds, rashes, and irritations that commonly plague those without proper hygiene, health care, and adequate living situations. I see things a typical doctor would never see in the States. There are bedsores, severe diabetic ulcers, Sari rashes, and many wounds from those who walk this garbage ridden city barefoot. It is incredibly difficult and emotional to serve these people seeing as many are  helpless and desperate and will continute to sustain these injuries in order to survive on the street. I am not a doctor or even a nurse and yet today, I am the best option they could have ever hoped for, a simple EMT. 

It can be incredibly emotional as I look at the patients and I immediately see their vulnerability, exposure, and hopelessness. In particular, today I had an elderly man, who was very crippled and had 

great difficulty walking, relying on crutches far too large and heavy for him to walk around. He had a bedsore that encompassed his entire buttocks region as well as his genitals. There was nothing separating him from the many others at the clinic and as he tried to place his mangled body face down on the wooden bench, I did my best to cover him from the others and make him comfortable. It was not easy as it was a difficult wound and I needed to consult others on how to treat it. I immediately thought of the men in my life, my father and my two brothers and how if they ever felt so vulnerable, in pain, and exposed, I would do everything in my power to make sure they did not suffer and they did not lose their dignity. No one should suffer as this man is. I was heartbroken for this man, who should have as much of a chance at a better life as anyone, but instead will suffer until the day he dies. When I am finished, I expect this man to be angry with me for making him wait longer than usual for his bandage. Instead he sits up, after maneuvering his mangled body off the bench with my help, folds his hands in prayer, bows in my direction, and says "Namiskar," which is a Bengali term meaning "The light in me honors the light in you." 

I am incredibly touched and have the urge to cry. I continue my day and when I begin my trek back in the afternoon, passing the same scenes as I did in the morning I am struk once again by the immense poverty that is Kolkata, but also the immense joy that people still have. With all the suffering, helplessness, and desperation that exists here, Kolkatians still show immense kindness, gratitude, pride, and happiness. 

It is only day three and half way through our first week and there will be many emotional and educational experiences a head for these next 2 1/2 weeks. I ask that you please keep the group and I, all the Sisters of Charity, fellow volunteers, and the people of Kolkata in your thoughts and prayers.

Namaste, 

Mary Varnavides