Cause to sing...

And dance. Or at least, clap your hands.

I have finally experienced something that I hear the ward nurses gush about.
When I hear about African dance lessons/dance parties on the wards, spontaneous worship...
Sounds awesome, right?

So, Miriam and I have been testing whether or not a clinical aspect to our job here would be beneficial. Now, many of you might be thinking..."Clinical...as a pharmacist?! What does that mean?!!" Essentially, my job as a pharmacist is to evaluate all medications and any new prescriptions for their safety, effectiveness, appropriateness, and for interactions, etc, etc... Thus, on the wards here at the Oak Foundation Hospital, we have been evaluating the charts and the medications for each patient. Making sure that there aren't any overdoses or underdoses, that there are indications for the medications being prescribed, to make sure that the regimens and doses are appropriate, to ensure that the patient is being treated for things that need to be treated. (See, we do more than count pills! :-P)

As I made my way through each ward, I started to hear music...not a lot...nothing too loud...nothing too extravagant. (You could hear the beginnings of it through the walls in B Ward.) And then, I ended up in A Ward, my last ward to check charts. Here, we have a few of our infant feeding program patients (where they help little babies to get to a healthy weight), some of our orthopedic patients and their caregivers, and a few cleft lip/palate patients and their caretakers.

I opened the door to the beating of drums...followed by a chorus of voices...singing praises of thanks to God. As the beat drummed on, the worship got more extravagant, the singing louder, the people in the ward, a bit livelier. Soon, there were mamas, nurses, day workers, and even some of the kids dancing...all moving to the beat of the drum...all singing at the top of their lungs...all clapping out a rhythm to accompany the drummer. Needless to say...it was AWESOME.

It must've sounded intriguing beyond the doors and the walls of A Ward...because, soon - one door to the ward was open...and people passing in the halls were peeking their heads in to see what was going on. A little while after that...both doors to the ward were open, and people weren't just peeking in...but coming in from the halls and joining in. Some of the patients and the nurses from B Ward came over to join us in worship.

I couldn't help by smile...sway to the beat of the music...clap along. I hopped from bed to bed...trying to find the charts...trying not to interrupt the worship and not to interrupt my work at the same time. Then, there comes a point where you just give in...and I did...and joined in...and I am glad that I did. No, I didn't know all the songs. No, I didn't know what all of them meant. But, yes, I could understand the heart of it.

And...like the title of this blog...it was enough to cause me to sing (we did sing a few songs that I knew, or some that were easy enough for me to pick up),
and dance (although a bit more reserved than the Africans...I still think that they were born with bodies that move in ways that mine can't),
and clap my hands.
Amen.