By Michael Matheke-Fischer, Director of Programs, RMF India
Sunday, November 20, 2011 was the first time I met Sonu. To me, he was a picture on a PowerPoint presentation, a picture that continues to shock me today. Sonu came into our program 15 months ago while I was in Delhi working on streamlining our administrative procedures and, more importantly, trying to raise more funds to help children like him. Fundraising and administrative work, while just as vital as the field work we engage in, is an ever present necessity shared by our small, but dedicated team.
Caitlin McQuilling told me about a case that had shocked even her. While sitting in Delhi, it was hard to hear the emotion in her voice. Days were spent monitoring his progress, coordinating with doctors, and attempting to diagnose exactly what was causing his dramatic wasting. All of this was terribly frustrating while sitting in meetings and pouring over budgets.
The team watched Sonu finally begin to improve, his weight gaining dramatically over three months until he was a healthy, even hefty, child.
Stories of Sonu floated around our house in Jhabua, and his example served as an inspiration to all of us to work harder, reach more children, and find out what we are capable of.
On Sunday, I met a child who could not possibly be the picture I had seen and shown so many times. There was no way, simply none, that such a child could have ever been as wasted and close to death as the picture I was so familiar with. Now back in the field, Sonu has turned in my mind from a stark example of the ravages of malnutrition to a child with a future, a face with expressions, and an energy that I will feed off of for the months to come. His sisters have taken to calling him “motapet” which in Hindi roughly means fat belly.
Even though budgets, PowerPoint’s, reports, and fundraising are still a large part of my job, at least now I have yet another example of why I do it!
For more information about RMF’s Malnutrition Eradication Program in India, click here
We can use any financial help you are able to provide on this project to continue our Education,Treatment and Outreach and help toward our goal of Malnutrition Eradication in this region of India.
To contribute to this initiative, please click Donate button or visit our website at realmedicinefoundation.org
I finally arrived back to Jhabua after several planes, trains, automobiles, rickshaws, and countries. Go ahead and throw a bicycle in there for good measure. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for skis, but it was definitely worth sacrificing the slopes for some family time. The United States showed me a wonderful Christmas and New Year, with as much family, friends, and food as I could cram in my short reprieve from India. And don’t forget the hot showers!
As I sit on my porch and watch the sunset across the valley, I find it hard to believe that just a few days ago I was sliding around in the snow. Globalization is truly remarkable.
My time in India began with an all-to-typical “doh!” moment as I heard my glasses tumble down the squat toilet on the train from Delhi. I write “heard” as I am quite literally blind, with vision of -7. I thank the Lord and every deity for the gift of contact lenses, for saving me from being absolutely handicapped, but life without glasses is not one I wish to live much longer! I do hope that some poor blind person finds the specs and is given the gift of sight. Note to self: from now on, I will only get large dark frames so that, if such an event is to ever reoccur, I will have a greater ability to see where they landed and stop them before they end up on the tracks! However, my friends, glasses are not what I want to discuss.
My first days back in Jhabua left me with enough smiles and cheer to cover the glasses and more. Some of my absolute favorite patients came back for follow up with nothing but good news!
Twins
*Pankaj (4) has finally started walking, running, and saying, “Hello!” He enjoys playing with the toys at the NRC, and his 9-year-old aunt, Maria, is still taking excellent care of him. He eats with fervor, and has turned lethargy into attitude. We are still hoping to find a school for the two of them, but for now we are happy with his health and steady development.
Naiara and Pankaj
*My goal for the New Year was to make Basanti (3) smile (a girl who presented with full body edema November 2010, requiring an intraosseous blood transfusion-sans anesthesia- and NG tube). Not only did she smile (with teeth!) but she is also trying to walk and talk! Basanti needs an operation for her cleft foot, so my new goal for the year is to fix Basanti’s foot. It shall be done!
Basanti
*Our serious measles cases-Sangeeta (3), Pannu (1), Jaimuna (2), Gunga (2), and Mahima (2)-all came for follow up happy and healthy. They had plump little cheeks, were smiling and playing, and are altogether doing wonderfully! As we jump into our new year, we have some serious follow up to do post-measles outbreak, but I’m ecstatic to start off the year with some success cases.
Sangeeta and Pannu
Altogether, a India’s welcome has been filled with miracles. As we begin to get new programs started, old programs revamped, and future programs conceptualized, these miracle cases give us hope and inspiration. I guess we did something right in 2010—here’s to 2011!
For more information about RMF’s Malnutrition Eradication Program in India, click here.
We can use any financial help you are able to provide on this project to continue our Education, Treatment and Outreach and help towards our goal of Malnutrition Eradication in this region of India.
To contribute to this initiative, please click Donate button or visit our website at realmedicinefoundation.org.
Phil Ebner has written for our blog before on his time spent volunteering with a team from Loyola Marymount University, in Madhya Pradesh, India with the Revitalizing and Empowering Villages (R.E.V) team. The following article was just published at Loyola’s online paper about his team’s work:
With malaria season at its peak and migrant families returning home, complicated cases of severe acute malnutrition (SAM) are presenting themselves at the NRC daily. In my short time here, I have seen a steady caseload of children presenting signs of tuberculosis, worms, malaria, diarrhea, and vomiting. For every child that comes into our NRC, we attempt to provide the best possible treatment, addressing underlying health conditions and symptomatic responses. Most complicated cases will flourish with antibiotics, de-worming tablets, and nutritional support while more serious cases might require a blood transfusion and vigilant monitoring. Fortunately, medication and care is enough for most children. Their ailments will be properly treated, their bodies will receive much needed nutritional support, and their caretakers will leave with new knowledge for malnutrition prevention.
However, there is another side to malnutrition in Madhya Pradesh that can’t be treated with pills or an IV—psychosocial neglect. In MP, there are many factors that lead to a decline in focus on the emotional development of children, such as parental employment, migration, and death. While the resiliency of children is naturally high, the ability to cope largely depends on temperament of the child and dynamics of the neglect.
Last week, a seven-year old girl, Maria, came to the NRC with a 3-year-old boy, Pankaj. Pankaj was found to be suffering from SAM complicated with a respiratory infection. Once he was admitted, it was noticed that he wasn’t interested in eating, was unresponsive to sensory stimulation, and appeared listless and sad. After some discussions with Maria and some other caretakers at the NRC, we figured out that Pankaj’s mother had passed away and his father migrated for work. Maria was Pankaj’s aunt and caretaker. Imagine being seven years old and handed a very sick three-year-old boy to care for. Despite her age, Maria looked after Pankaj to the best of her ability, taking her motherly role in earnest.
Every time I went to the NRC, I worried about Pankaj. I had never seen a child in such a depressed state. Even Urmila, our 9-month-old suffering from malaria-induced anemia, was responsive to stimulation. Pankaj would not play, walk, talk, or crawl. He ate with a cloak of reluctance and, when left alone, would suddenly start screaming until Maria returned. When I caught the rare glance from Pankaj, I found myself overwhelmed with sadness. His eyes told the story his voice could not.
One day, Pankaj was sitting on the floor by himself with a pile of rocks, barely moving. I had noticed that Pankaj had a slightly enlarged head and appeared to only use one side of his body in his rare attempts to scoot across the floor. I sat down to play with him, and felt incredibly accomplished when I finally got a smile and a laugh. I watched as he demonstrated equal muscular strength, reflexes, and spatial understanding. He even surprised me with his ability to process thought when it came to counting, adding, and removing objects from his visual field. For all intensive purposes, Pankaj was significantly less developmentally challenged than we had thought. Maria returned and tried to get him to walk again. Typically, Pankaj would scream and go limp in his legs. This time he walked!
The next day I walked into the NRC and Pankaj smiled with recognition. He then grabbed my hand and began to walk. You cannot imagine the emotions that flooded into my being as I saw the effect a small amount of inter-personal play can have. With just a half-hour of attention the previous day, Pankaj began to smile, interact, and react with myself and others. Pankaj was not just starved for nutrients—he was starved for attention.
When Fabian, our Country Director came down to check on patients, he noticed Pankaj’s stature—the enlarged head, downward glance, etc. The initial diagnosis is that Pankaj suffers from hydrocephalus, a disorder that causes cerebrospinal fluid to build up in the brain. This ailment typically requires a shunt to be placed to drain the fluid from the brain. Unfortunately, these procedures are rare in the developing world as they are costly and riddled with complications. Children who receive the procedure require rigorous monitoring, as the shunt can shift, become infected, or be rejected by the body. For a child of 3-years old whose caretaker is a 7-year old girl, the operation is not an easy option.
Emotional support is essential to the betterment of a human life. Treating the medical issues without addressing the whole-developmental being is not enough. I am proud that RMF works to empower its staff to address the social and emotional needs of its patients. With this step, we are working to improve every aspect of a person’s health to provide the best possible course of treatment. We may not be able to fix his hydrocephalus, but we can take a step to improve his quality of life right now, medically and mentally.
Very good article published in Sunday’s New York Times about the malnutrition and food crisis in India. This focuses specifically on the crisis in Jhabua and Madhya Pradesh where our Malnutrition Initiative and Team India are based.
![[VolunteerMatch - Where Volunteering Begins.]](http://www.volunteermatch.org/images/2.0/new_logo.gif){kind=logo}