Two women who saved a life...

Thoko in the workup phase. 

It was 2:26am. The surgeon’s on call phone rang. I had just returned to my bed after checking an alert on Benson’s glucose monitor. Ryan asked the caller, “Thyolo district? 3 women?” then he asserted, “Prepare the theatre!” And 2 minutes later he was gone.

At 5:30am I heard footsteps in the hall and knew he had returned home.

“How were the transfer patients?” I sleepily inquired.

“Not good. I just don’t understand why it took them so long to send patients to us!” he gruffly responded. Then added, “one had a ruptured uterus, we lost the baby. One had pre-eclampsia, and the third required vacuum assistance to deliver the baby. Then one lady with a Caesarian done earlier in the week has been admitted with a hemoglobin of 5.3 and desperately needs a blood transfusion, but we’re out of blood.”

I could tell it was a heavy start to the morning and followed a day where Ryan was the only doctor at the hospital and dealing with constant power outages and no running water in the theatre and wards.

A few hours later Thoko came to work and greeted us all with her usual cheery tone and began making plans for the days meal schedule. I told her about the woman who needed a blood transfusion and before I had finished explaining Thoko interjected, “I’ll give blood. I’m O+ and ready to donate. Should I go to the laboratory now?”

I called Casey our OB/GYN and asked if they still needed blood.

“Yes, please – there is one other person donating, come in an hour” she responded.

An hour later, we walked down to the hospital. We checked in at the maternity ward to see the patient, and found her in ICU, bed 2, breathing short agitated puffs of air. Her chest was exposed and heaving, a cloth lay at her neck to catch the perspiration that dripped from her chin. Her husband spun around when he saw us standing behind him. I introduced our small group and motioned to Thoko saying, “this lady is O positive, she wants to give blood for your wife.”

The husband had tears in his eyes as he locked a gaze with Thoko and thanked her expressively for what she was about to do. They had never met each other. They were strangers. They were not related.

“A relative?” the lab assistant presumed when Thoko stepped into the donation bay stating the name of the woman in ICU bed 2.

“No. I’m O positive and this woman needs blood.” Thoko replied.

“Oh, well that makes two of you then” he sounded quite surprised.

There was a young woman sitting in the donor chair, wearing nursing whites, and pressing a gauze over the hole where the needle had entered. Her pint of O+ blood was labeled and placed in the refrigerator.

Iness Mangata, Malamulo Nursing Student

What a lucky day for ICU bed 2 I thought to myself. Two anonymous donors, unrelated, giving blood to save her life.

I asked Iness, “are you a nurse? Why are you giving blood?”

“A nursing student” she smiled. “I’m giving because I can and because it will save a life.”

The ward nurse, Iness, Thoko and Hudson

I knew that Thoko had donated before, but I never knew why. Thoko told Iness, “after I delivered my second baby, I hemorrhaged. I needed blood. And a stranger gave it for me, and saved my life. Now, when I can, I give blood. I think in some small way I’m giving back the gift that someone gave me many years ago.”

I watched as Thoko prepared to donate. Shortly after the last drop had been collected she looked up, her smile had changed, she said softly, “I don’t feel good.” Her forehead beaded with sweat and she closed her eyes. She laid down on the bed next to the donor chair, and rested.

Thoko squeezing the heart shaped sponge to increase blood flow

Thirty minutes passed and Thoko felt energy return to her body. It had not been the easiest thing to do. It took time, and she felt drained afterwards, but she had done a selfless thing. She had saved a life.

Thoko resting after donating

Thoko and Iness - brave, courageous life savers!

Both Thoko and Iness could have been silent when the need arose. They could have changed the subject, or mused at how sad the patient’s decline is, but they chose to act.

Next time I can do something for someone else – even if it’s not life-saving, only life-enhancing, I hope I choose to act. I hope I choose to give.

Afterall, giving is really living.

The blood fridge