A Trip to Nyankpala Clinic

Before I go into this story, I must share with you the current scene as I’m writing this. I’m set up at my dining table watching a lightning storm illuminate the black sky outside my kitchen window. The arcs of our veranda are outlined with the white light of each flash and the palm trees become visible on the horizon for an instant before disappearing into the darkness once again. Thunder rumbles quietly amid the sound of the palm leaves shaking in the wind, until the sound is interrupted by the blaring call for prayers from the Mosque just beyond our house, wailing in Arabic for all to gather for 6pm prayers.

I love storms, so I am delighted to take it all in as I describe to you these last couple of days….

I think it’s fair to say that most foreigners never quite feel 100% most of the time here in Africa. The food is different, the purified water may not always be quite true to its name, the heat can be excruciating on our light skin, and things in general just aren’t up to the sterile conditions we are used to in the West. However, on Saturday I began to feel quite under the weather and spent the majority of the day trying to sleep off a headache and an achy body. The condition persisted on Sunday and by Monday it seemed inevitable that a malaria test was in order. At home when it is necessary to see a doctor, it is not a particularly difficult task-if we’re in a rush we can step into a walk-in clinic, we most likely have the phone number of our family doctor, or if it’s a real emergency, we can simple head to the hospital. Here in Tamale it is not quite so convenient- it is difficult to navigate a proper clinic where you can feel comfortable and confident with the level of care and accuracy you will be treated with; there are some expat stories of questionable clinics and prescriptions. One of my favourite stories that particularly illustrates this point was a friend’s visit to a clinic when he was worried about malaria or food poisoning. He was convinced to put a device on his head that was hooked up to an old computer which the doctor claimed would enable him to see inside his stomach. If the computer screen showed black x’s, these indicated salmonella and ecoli in his stomach. When asked where this device came from, the doctor replied that it was “the latest technology from NASA….at least that’s what the instructions say.”

Further, since touring the hospital during our first week in Tamale, this is also an option I refused to consider. Though there are surely some very qualified physicians treating 100’s of patients a day, the fact that they do not even have running water makes me greatly concerned about the sanitary conditions of the institute. Also, when a person goes there to see a doctor, they must wait among 30-40 other patients outside the 3 or 4 consultation rooms, making the visit a nearly day-long affair.

The best course of action is to ask a seasoned expat for a good clinic they know of. So on Monday morning I headed to Ricky’s Pharmacy, where I was told a good foreign doctor worked out of. This turned out to be a dead end, the attendants in the pharmacy had never heard of the doctor I was looking for. I stood in the street making phone calls and eventually was directed to the New Life Medical Laboratory, just across from the hospital. I must admit that by the time I arrived at the clinic I was feeling rather sorry for myself, hot from trekking around the city centre looking for a doctor, and wishing for something more familiar. Once in the clinic, I filled out the necessary paperwork, paid 4 Ghana Cedis to get the test, and then slouched into a plastic chair in the waiting room.

My first malaria test was negative so I went home having accomplished very little, and scheduled to return tomorrow morning since 2 or 3 negative tests are required to confirm you do not have the parasite. Tuesday morning produced a negative test as well which was good, but the problem remained that I didn’t feel good and as New Life is simply a laboratory, I needed to find another clinic to go to where I could see a doctor. A friend directed me to Nyankpala Clinic where two English doctors work on the University of Development Medical Campus. It took me three or four tries to flag down a taxi driver that knew of the place, but finally we were off. I had been told that the clinic was about 20 minutes west of Tamale, but I didn’t realize that Nyankpala was actually another town. We ended up out on the open “highway”, where I was graced with an amazing view of the open savannah, sprinkled with mud huts and baobab trees.

I got sucked into paying an outrageous amount for the taxi, but I was very thankful to be greeted by an English, female doctor once I got in the clinic. Everything was orderly and since the doctor and her husband (who is also a practicing physician in the clinic) have been in Africa for almost 40 years, there was no question she knew her stuff. In the end, I was simply experiencing some side effects from my malaria pills as well as a stomach bug.
It was about noon by the time I left the clinic and I was feeling quite tired, having dosed off a number of times in the waiting room. I asked for advice on the easiest and cheapest way to get back to Tamale and was directed to stand on the road and wait with some of the other UDS (University of Development Studies) students for one of the university buses heading into town. As I approached a small group of students, we were suddenly told to move away…there was a snake in the grass behind us. Some of the guys started throwing chunks of cement block at it until it slithered away out of sight. I turned from watching the snake, and was just in time to see the UDS bus whizz right by us, filled beyond capacity. I asked the student beside me if he thought another bus would come, and he figured perhaps one might come by in a half hour or so. He suggested we could walk to the main road and try to get a lift, so I joined him along with another girl carrying a baby on her back. At this point I couldn’t help but laugh at the whole crazy situation-here I was sweating and feeling ill, having just spotted my first African snake, and trotting down the road under the blaring sun with two strangers, about to hitchhike my way back into town. The girl with the baby was the first of us to catch a ride. She was taking her son to the hospital and managed to flag down a truck and squeeze into the back. My new friend, Shani, and I took shelter under a thatch roof where women were selling bread. After about 15 minutes another bus showed up and we tried to grab a spot but it was packed full and many others were trying to cram in ahead of us. On the other side of the road I saw an SUV approaching-SUV’s usually mean NGO’s so I was hopeful I could flag them down. They ended up being UDS profs, and kindly gave Shani and I a lift into town. They dropped us off in an area of town that was completely unfamiliar to me, and I was lucky that Shani walked me back into the city centre to grab a cab. When I got home I couldn’t even be bothered to fetch a bucket of water for a shower before I crawled into bed and zonked out for the remainder of the afternoon.