Working in the ward reserved for confirmed Ebola cases was just like neutralising explosives. The slightest mistake may send you a death warrant that you would not appeal for. Every single worker was constantly reminded of the prevention especially, removing the PPE which was considered as the most important thing. Following the recommended standard operational protocols in putting on the PPE and removing was the first rule which was not negotiable. As it was not possible to stay a long time wearing the PPE, we had to change them often and every single time. Layer by layer chlorination process had to be done very carefully by the experts who got trained specially for removing PPE in the ETU. Every ETU worker was extremely vigilant as we witnessed the unimaginable suffering and avoidable death of most of the patients every single day in the ETU. There was no single day that we did not have to experience death.
Some cases reached death fast with less suffering, but many people suffered extremely. Especially, when they were passing the time of haemorrhagic stage where bleeding started from every single opening of the body, and at that stage, the patient`s infectiousness was only second to the corpse of an Ebola patient.
By November 2015, already over 3,500 lives from Liberia had been pulled into the trench of death by Ebola; over 8,000 were infected and more than 20,000 were affected as people who lost their loved ones. Over 1500 children had lost their parents creating a new category of orphans on top of the orphans left behind by the brutal civil conflicts. In the entire region around 30,000 individuals had already contracted the virus and two third of them were somewhat lucky enough to stay alive but unfortunate to live without their loved ones because many survivors had lost their relatives.
It was the 15 November; the rainy season had already come to an end adding hopes to everyone as many people believed that spread of Ebola was higher in rainy seasons even though there was nothing anyone could prove it. I had to continue my work in the morning shift too since my colleague who was supposed to report for the morning shift had fallen sick.
‘George, you are a treasure to us,’ Dr. Michael said seeing me continue the second shift with no complaining.
I nodded with a humble smile as I felt that it was a comment made from the most profound part of his heart. I had not noticed him praising without reason. Dr. Michael had a habit of talking about only what was necessary and relevant. He seldom spoke out of the point. Many colleagues said that he was afraid of running out of his diction.
‘How are those two kids?’ He asked me referring to the two confirmed cases that we were trying our best to save: One ten-year-old boy and a girl of thirteen years.
‘Sir they are under medication, and we gave them new drips a few minutes ago. The girl looks slightly improving whereas the condition of the little boy is uncertain.’ I updated Dr. Michael before the ward rounds.
‘Last night, the boy was attended by Dr. Peter and he was not happy about the situation,’ I added.
‘Let’s go and see what else we can do,’ Dr. Michael rushed to get his PPE to start his rounds.
When those two children were admitted to the ETU, their parents had already died of Ebola. And the boy was not aware of the fact that his father and mother had already gone. He was quite active and playful whereas his sister was desperately grieving over the death of her parents and she was trying her best to hide it from her little brother who was already symptomatic. Whenever the boy was crying, the girl used to come near the fence and called the staff to attend her brother, and whenever the boy tried to play, she stopped him from getting tired. They had become the centre of attention of everyone in the ETU. After the third day in the observation ward, the girl also started showing the symptoms of EVD and boy`s activity level had gone down significantly which was not a good sign at all. We all knew that in case the boy could not make it, that would affect the probability of survival of the girl.
‘George!’ I was preparing the medicine tray when Dr. Michael yelled in the ward. I did not know how I got there, but I found myself near the bed of the boy who was trembling vigorously with convulsions. I immediately tried to turn the boy face down position for reducing the impact of fever seizure and then I noticed that he had already started bleeding from his mouth and nose.
I realised that the boy would not make it and suggested Dr. Michael to relocate the boy to a ward where more critical patients had been so that his sister would not witness the death of her brother whom she was always concerned about.
In less than 40 minutes after the relocation, the boy passed away leaving a permanent psychological scar on me. George II came to my mind. I could not imagine anything else, and my mind was empty except the sharp pain I felt in my wrist. I looked at my wrist wondering what happened. Between the sleeve of the protective jacket and the glows, an area of my skin had been exposed while struggling to stabilise the boy and probably, I could have hit a sharp end of a metal bed or a chair. There was a small cut which was slightly bleeding. I was relieved assuming that it was my blood. But I was not fully convinced that I was safe. I rushed to the washing area and rolled up the sleeve of the protection gear a bit. Blood stains on the sleeves on the other side of my wrist froze me for a while.
In less than a few seconds, my father, grandmother, Oldman and the Reverend Philip showed up inside my eyes. All of them were in black clothes in a valley where there were nothing but tombstones. In the following moment, I saw myself walking along a passage leading to a silver line that separated me and those who were in black dresses. I looked behind and saw my family at the other cusp of the passage. They looked mournful. I wanted to wave them, but I was afraid that they would cross the silver line that I was about to cross.