On
my first day photographing on the wards, I was making rounds with a group
of physicians. We stopped at a bed where a young patient was lying. She
sat up and the doctors began to do an evaluation. Listening to the physicians,
I was able to determine that this patient had a heart valve problem. I wanted
to capture a few images, so I made eye contact, and gestured with my camera....permission
given, I began. At first Pamela, (the patient), kept looking down or away
from the camera. Several times I pulled the camera away from my eye and
made direct eye contact with her, she eventually got the idea that I wanted
her to look at me while I photographed her. With her eyes locked on me I
made several more images, then the doctors and I moved on to the next patient. |
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For the rest of the
day and all night I couldn't get the vision of her penetrating eyes out
of my head. Over the next several days I returned to the hospital and
visited her.
One evening, I was
using Dr Mamlin's computer to burn some CD-Roms. I don't know why, but
I took Pamela's picture and made it the screen saver on his computer.
The next morning Dr. Mamlin mentioned how much he liked the surprise of
seeing Pamela's beautiful face on his computer, instead of the Microsoft
logo.
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Several days later
on my departure from Eldoret, still unable to get Pamela's image out of
my head, I asked Dr. Mamlin to tell me more about her, her condition and
her prognosis. He told me things didn't look good for her, Pamela needed
a surgical procedure, one done routinely in the US, but difficult and
expensive to get done in Kenya.
I bid good bye to DR Mamlin and continued my assignment in neighboring
Uganda.
From that day forward
I kept thinking about and wondering about Pamela. When I returned to California,
I emailed Dr. Mamlin to inquire about how Pamela was doing. Sadly, I received
the following letter...
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"Karl,
Pamela died yesterday. I sent her to Nairobi. They finally did her heart
surgery this week. She died in the ICU less than 24 hours post op. I am
devastated as I know you will be. I got to know her and her family so
well. I have made arrangements today to clear all of her bills and allow
the family to bring her body back to the beautiful Nandi hills for burial
this weekend. Some parts of this work are unbearable and take a piece
out of your soul away. I suspect when I lose the capacity to feel that
pain, it will be time to head home. For now, we must rebuild our smiles
and our hope and tackle the next Pamela with courage---this place is full
of Pamela's yet that one will be in my mind forever because of you and
your wonderful eye. Joe"
I was
shaken by the news, although I had almost expected it. Africa had been
a difficult trip emotionally, it felt like such a bleak place with so
little hope. I wanted so much to hear that one person, Pamela, in such
a difficult place, got a lucky break. It was not so. Life, it seemed is
truly unfair.
I often
refer to DR Mamlin's letter, so eloquent, so pertinent, it helps me to
understand and to grieve, but also, to have hope and continue working,
doing what I have set out to do, doing what I am so passionate about.
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