Maseray's Story*

*A fictitious account of a journey that over 400 patients have taken through the ETC 

Two months ago I went to the funeral of a man in our village who had died of Ebola. Back then there were more cases of families hiding away their loved ones who were sick. They were scared that if they admitted the illness they would be taken away, sometimes to an unknown place, and that they would never be seen again. So people were dying at home. In our culture we help cleanse the body at funerals and touch and share tears with the bereaved to show sympathy and support. A week later I started to develop aches and pains, and two days later, fever and diarrhoea. I called 117 and an ambulance arrived and took me to the Save the Children Ebola Treatment Centre (ETC), near to my home.

When I arrived at the ETC I had to wait in the locked ambulance whilst the doctors and nurses dressed in their Personal Protective Equipment (PPE). Then they took me into the Red Zone whilst a team of hygienists decontaminated the ambulance inside and out with high strength chorine. I was in a 10 bed ward and had a blood test for Ebola and a cannula inserted. I was tired and very afraid - later I learnt I was then at Stage 2 of the disease.

Other patients were coming to the ETC on foot. At the gates, nurses were asking them questions to identify the chance of Ebola. Some people were sent away again but if they had symptoms of the disease they were admitted to the suspect ward where they would stay until they were either tested as positive and moved to a confirmed ward or negative. From that point there are only two ways out: through the 'happy shower' or through the morgue. 35% of us made it through the happy shower.

One of the new Suspect wards

There is no cure for Ebola. The treatment is rehydration with intravenous fluids to replace all that we lose through vomiting and diarrhoea. I was given antibiotics, pain-killers, vitamins and medicines for nausea, agitation and reflux, all common symptoms of the disease. All of us had liver and kidney damage caused by the virus. The boy in the bed next to me started to bleed from his gums one night. They gave him special injections but two days later he died. He was at Stage 3.

There were several children admitted to the ward with me. Their mothers couldn't come with them so it was down to the female patients to care for them, feed them, play with them and sleep with them. The doctors and nurses came to the ward in teams every couple of hours throughout the day and night to check on us, give fluids, medicines, take blood, and help clean those of us who were too sick to do it ourselves. They brought toys and balloons for the children but many were too sick or scared of these people in strange uniforms and they often cried and hid away. We also saw pharmacists, the Quality Assurance team and lots of WASH staff who cleaned and chlorinated the wards and disposed of the waste and sharps bins to make it a safer place. They also took away the bodies of those who died. We could only see the eyes of the people who came to look after us and their names which were written on their heads but we started to get to know them. My friend Haja even wanted to marry one of the doctors which was funny as she had no idea what he looked like under his uniform. There were lots of different nationalities - some from the UK, some from Cuba, Sierra Leoneans and others from Canada, the US and Australia.

There was a lady on our ward who had been there 25 days. She had been cured of Ebola but then she had a stroke. She couldn't walk or take care of herself. The doctors and nurses did their best to help her exercise and walk again but there are no medicines here for stroke and no way to diagnose it for certain. Eventually she did go home after her family had been taught how to help her move around safely and she was given a wheelchair, commode, a new bed and mattress and driven the 200 miles back to her village by a Save the Children ambulance.

The days are very long for us. There is nowhere to go. Through the wire fence we can see the staff outside in the green zone. Food is passed in to us through a hatch. It is very hot and there is nothing to do except talk to the other patients if they are well enough. There are buckets at the end of our beds for us to use if we can't make it to the toilet in time. Once, my auntie came to visit me from the village. She was taken to the other side of the fence and with a 2 metre gap between us we were allowed to talk. She hadn't seen my family for a week as they were quarantined in their locked house after I had been taken away.

My personal journey through the ETC ended after 12 days. I received my second negative Ebola test 3 days after my last symptoms and was prepared for discharge. My clothes and shoes were taken away to be burnt and my phone, money and books were destroyed. Nothing taken into the red zone can ever come out again. I went to the happy shower where I was scrubbed head to toe with 0.05% chlorine and again with soap and fresh water. Walking through the happy shower to the green zone on the other side, there were nurses waiting there who gave me new clothes and shoes, bedding, towels, a new phone, money, a supply of food and a survivor's certificate which I will show to the people in my village so they aren't scared when I return home.

I am one of the lucky ones.

A Discharge Ceremony