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What are key concepts and ideas from Chapter 1 "The Other Cancer Ward"? please use information from the book The link is attached. The chapter begins on page 14 and ends on page 41 The pdf is below, the book is called "Livingston Book, Improvising Medicine: An African Oncology Ward in an Emerging Cancer Epidemic. " Link of the pdf https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf I attached a screenshot of the first page of the chapter the rest of the chapter is on this link below https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf please cite examples from the book word by word. For instance "the oncology ward of Princess Marina Hospital (pmh), Botswana’s central referral hospital, a light breeze is blowing the curtains in the female side of the ward"

What are key concepts and ideas from Chapter 1 "The Other Cancer Ward"? please use information from the book The link is attached. The chapter begins on page 14 and ends on page 41 The pdf is below, the book is called "Livingston Book, Improvising Medicine: An African Oncology Ward in an Emerging Cancer Epidemic. " Link of the pdf https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf I attached a screenshot of the first page of the chapter the rest of the chapter is on this link below https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf please cite examples from the book word by word. For instance "the oncology ward of Princess Marina Hospital (pmh), Botswana’s central referral hospital, a light breeze is blowing the curtains in the female side of the ward"

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What are key concepts and ideas from Chapter 1 "The Other Cancer Ward"?

please use information from the book The link is attached. The chapter begins on page 14 and ends on page 41

The pdf is below, the book is called "Livingston Book, Improvising Medicine: An African Oncology Ward in an Emerging Cancer Epidemic. "

Link of the pdf https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf

I attached a screenshot of the first page of the chapter the rest of the chapter is on this link below

https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-5342-3_601.pdf

please cite examples from the book word by word. For instance "the oncology ward of Princess Marina Hospital (pmh), Botswana’s central referral hospital, a light breeze is blowing the curtains in the female side of the ward"

 

10:11 WhatsApp AA < drive.google.com (a nutritional supplement), as Mma 1 encourages him in that matter- of-fact, joking way that nurses so often use to cajole their patients. A few PDF Julie Livingston ... ) - libgen.li.pdf ↓ Mayan Maternal Mortality and 2 Chapter One moments ago, he, too, was bent over his vomitus. Already he is melt- ing away. Strangely enough, Roger's half-uncle, Mr. Mill, a white Mo- tswana farmer with multiple myeloma, had vacated that same bed only the evening before Roger arrived. The ward is full right now, as usual, with twenty-one patients total- 1-one extra bed has been crammed into the female side of the ward, the only ward in the hospital that refuses to house patients on the floor. The cancer ward sits at the end of a corridor that is lined with long, narrow wooden benches. There patients and their relatives sit waiting to see the highly impassioned and, by all accounts, brilliant, if at times irascible, German oncologist, Dr. P. Some rose long before dawn for bus or ambulance rides from villages deep in the Kalahari Desert. Others ar- rive from nearby urban homes, or large towns in Botswana's southeast. Many will wait five or six hours or more for their turn in the clinic office with the hospital's lone oncologist, who not only attends to an average of twenty-five (but sometimes as many as forty) outpatient visits in the day, but also manages the ward, fills out paperwork (in triplicate with carbon sheets between the copies), administers chemotherapy, and performs his own cytology in the evenings. After he climbs onto a chair in a vain but unrelenting attempt to coax the highly improbable ward television set to life, he drives home, where he will finish the day's paperwork after eating dinner. Formerly a lawyer in Frankfurt, and a disillusioned ex-Mugabe sup- porter, Dr. P was already in his mid-fifties when he came to Botswana from Zimbabwe, where he had practiced oncology at Mpilo Hospital in Bulawayo for fourteen years. Leaving wasn't easy. His wife, Mma S, re- mains in Zimbabwe, but visits Dr. P some weekends, during which she loads up her car with supplies no longer available back home. Mma S has been around the world and has lived abroad. She knows it is one thing to travel, another altogether to leave her country (and the private ultra- sound practice she has built) and live as an African exile, a lekwerekwere (African immigrant or outsider). Come what may, Mma S has decided to stay in her home. Dr. P also writes a column, strident in tone, for one of the Botswana newspapers, using the forum to lash out against white mercenaries, Rupert Murdoch, and corrupt African politicians. He is more than will- ing to stand up in the staff meeting and proclaim PMH a Potemkin vil- lage! But his respect for Botswana runs deep. His sometimes explosive Page 19 / 247 58
Transcribed Image Text:10:11 WhatsApp AA < drive.google.com (a nutritional supplement), as Mma 1 encourages him in that matter- of-fact, joking way that nurses so often use to cajole their patients. A few PDF Julie Livingston ... ) - libgen.li.pdf ↓ Mayan Maternal Mortality and 2 Chapter One moments ago, he, too, was bent over his vomitus. Already he is melt- ing away. Strangely enough, Roger's half-uncle, Mr. Mill, a white Mo- tswana farmer with multiple myeloma, had vacated that same bed only the evening before Roger arrived. The ward is full right now, as usual, with twenty-one patients total- 1-one extra bed has been crammed into the female side of the ward, the only ward in the hospital that refuses to house patients on the floor. The cancer ward sits at the end of a corridor that is lined with long, narrow wooden benches. There patients and their relatives sit waiting to see the highly impassioned and, by all accounts, brilliant, if at times irascible, German oncologist, Dr. P. Some rose long before dawn for bus or ambulance rides from villages deep in the Kalahari Desert. Others ar- rive from nearby urban homes, or large towns in Botswana's southeast. Many will wait five or six hours or more for their turn in the clinic office with the hospital's lone oncologist, who not only attends to an average of twenty-five (but sometimes as many as forty) outpatient visits in the day, but also manages the ward, fills out paperwork (in triplicate with carbon sheets between the copies), administers chemotherapy, and performs his own cytology in the evenings. After he climbs onto a chair in a vain but unrelenting attempt to coax the highly improbable ward television set to life, he drives home, where he will finish the day's paperwork after eating dinner. Formerly a lawyer in Frankfurt, and a disillusioned ex-Mugabe sup- porter, Dr. P was already in his mid-fifties when he came to Botswana from Zimbabwe, where he had practiced oncology at Mpilo Hospital in Bulawayo for fourteen years. Leaving wasn't easy. His wife, Mma S, re- mains in Zimbabwe, but visits Dr. P some weekends, during which she loads up her car with supplies no longer available back home. Mma S has been around the world and has lived abroad. She knows it is one thing to travel, another altogether to leave her country (and the private ultra- sound practice she has built) and live as an African exile, a lekwerekwere (African immigrant or outsider). Come what may, Mma S has decided to stay in her home. Dr. P also writes a column, strident in tone, for one of the Botswana newspapers, using the forum to lash out against white mercenaries, Rupert Murdoch, and corrupt African politicians. He is more than will- ing to stand up in the staff meeting and proclaim PMH a Potemkin vil- lage! But his respect for Botswana runs deep. His sometimes explosive Page 19 / 247 58
10:11 WhatsApp AA drive.google.com PDF_Julie Livingston ... ) - libgen.li.pdf ΟΝΕ The Other Cancer Ward In the oncology ward of Princess Marina Hospital (PMH), Bo- tswana's central referral hospital, a light breeze is blowing the cur- tains in the female side of the ward. It is that cool pause in the morn- ing before the dry heat settles in for the day in Gaborone, Botswana's capital. Ellen is sitting up in her bed, dressed in her nylon, butterfly-print nightgown, retching into a vomitus- an enormous, lidded, stainless- steel basin. Piled on the stand next to her bed are cards, boxes of juice, bananas, and other gifts from relatives and friends. The two pairs of underpants and spare nightgown she laundered in the bathroom down the hall are draped across the headboard of her bed, drying. Next to her lies Lesego, age sixty, and a former teacher. With her enormous glasses perched on her nose, Lesego is silently reading her Bible. This is her fourth year as a cancer patient, and she is used to the rhythms of the ward. She knows that soon Tiny will come, rolling the metal breakfast cart through the aisle, pouring a tin or plastic mug of tea with milk and sugar for each patient, and dishing out plates of motogo, a sorghum por- ridge. It isn't a Tuesday or a Thursday, so there won't be a hard-boiled egg and tiny mound of salt. Across the nursing desk in the men's side of the ward sits Roger, age twenty, whose left eye is swollen shut from a lymphoma. He is trying with little success to drink a small carton of strawberry-flavored Ensure (a nutritional supplement), as Mma T encourages him in that matter- of-fact, joking way that nurses so often use to cajole their patients. A few 9 Page 18pter One 247 √ moments ago, he, too, was bent over his vomitus. Already he is melt- ing away. Strangely enough, Roger's half-uncle, Mr. Mill, a white Mo- 58
Transcribed Image Text:10:11 WhatsApp AA drive.google.com PDF_Julie Livingston ... ) - libgen.li.pdf ΟΝΕ The Other Cancer Ward In the oncology ward of Princess Marina Hospital (PMH), Bo- tswana's central referral hospital, a light breeze is blowing the cur- tains in the female side of the ward. It is that cool pause in the morn- ing before the dry heat settles in for the day in Gaborone, Botswana's capital. Ellen is sitting up in her bed, dressed in her nylon, butterfly-print nightgown, retching into a vomitus- an enormous, lidded, stainless- steel basin. Piled on the stand next to her bed are cards, boxes of juice, bananas, and other gifts from relatives and friends. The two pairs of underpants and spare nightgown she laundered in the bathroom down the hall are draped across the headboard of her bed, drying. Next to her lies Lesego, age sixty, and a former teacher. With her enormous glasses perched on her nose, Lesego is silently reading her Bible. This is her fourth year as a cancer patient, and she is used to the rhythms of the ward. She knows that soon Tiny will come, rolling the metal breakfast cart through the aisle, pouring a tin or plastic mug of tea with milk and sugar for each patient, and dishing out plates of motogo, a sorghum por- ridge. It isn't a Tuesday or a Thursday, so there won't be a hard-boiled egg and tiny mound of salt. Across the nursing desk in the men's side of the ward sits Roger, age twenty, whose left eye is swollen shut from a lymphoma. He is trying with little success to drink a small carton of strawberry-flavored Ensure (a nutritional supplement), as Mma T encourages him in that matter- of-fact, joking way that nurses so often use to cajole their patients. A few 9 Page 18pter One 247 √ moments ago, he, too, was bent over his vomitus. Already he is melt- ing away. Strangely enough, Roger's half-uncle, Mr. Mill, a white Mo- 58
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