Grey's Mulago Anatomy!!

It is January something-th 1965, and elevators have just been introduced to Mulago Hospital. Fast forward 45 years later, and nothing’s changed! This is a very big clue as to why the movie “Last King of Scotland” was heavily done in Mulago, all that the guys had to do was shoot the scene, then add some old cars to it!

Getting to this place reminds you that yes, the world will end, and you are goin’ to kick it! ♪Can I kick it…….yes you can!!♪ Where was we? Ah yech..the elevator!

Did you know that the Mulago elevator has an operator?? Me neither!! There’s a chap that sits there, so you have to tell him what floor you are headed to (they are like 5), then he pushes for you the button! This is great, I would NEVER have reached 3^rd floor without the genius thinking of whoever put this guy there, coz getting to that button must be some hard shit!! This guy did industrial engineering goddamit, push a button? Now that’s some hard stuff!

Getting off the elevator (after trying not to breathe for like 5 minutes – germs and all), one enters a kind of flea market, all sorts of people just there on their floor – with their kids – and wires hanging from them to a nail on the wall, IV they call it. You’ve got to do some side-stepping moves to get through the crowd, coz the chap you know is in the “private wing”, which is a small cubicle at the corner of the ward.

It’s around this time that you ACTUALLY feel the malaria is kicking in, you feel nauseated and taste aspirin every second you breathe, and start asking questions like “why the hell did this guy get messed up? I should never have known him?” But that’s only if you are a Budo fella, they can’t stand this shit – mixing with poor folks! “Am Budonian goddamit, gotta sticker on the bumper of my car to show for it bitch!” they quip.

The so-called private wing ain’t that private, coz there’s 2 beds, and the other bed is occupied by some old chap, keeps coughing for air (ooooh, that’s so mean) and his equally old wife is trying to stuff brown porridge down his throat (ooohh, that’s so mea…..piss off conscience!)

Now you want to give this chap you came to visit his splash and take off, but the chick you are with starts asking stuff of “how are you feeling?” not good I’d suppose, I mean he just fell off a bike for christ’s sake. Then the card is unleashed “Get well soon you boda-riding punk you” didn’t we tell you to walk instead? He had a deal? Well how’s the deal going now? What? They cancelled it? What do you know! Next time be patient aaiit? Oh sorry, you are patient as we speak, hahaha patient, be patient, next time! (making fun of the sick will bring bad luck, if only you believe that shit!)

Time to leave “bodaboda” ward (fact: almost 5 boda accident victims enter this ward every hour, it was re-named boda-boda) and the side-stepping resumes, this time we have to use the steps, and some chap is spraying chlorine all-over the crib, smells like an empty swimming pool, but with a strange pungent twist, as if “Capital Pub”, so now you are falling sick for real, feels like food poisoning, but it’s the effects of the spray.

Now you vow never again to watch “House” or “Scrubs” coz hospitals ain’t that cool after all. Just pray you never get sick!