Low of the week

Another week has flown by. My lowest part was on Thursday, when I parked outside the Port gates and was beseiged by people needing medical attention. There was a man with a broken leg, and I explained that we had no spaces left for orthopedic surgery; there was a deaf man with a bad back, and I explained that we had no ear/nose/throat doctors or back doctors; and there was a man with a massive hernia in his groin - he couldn't even walk, and had paid every last penny he owned on transport to the ship, only to be told that we had no surgeons onboard who could repair his hernia. He begged me for the taxi fare home, which I gave him (it was only 20 pence). After three years in Liberia, I'm still affected by the utter dispair of the sick and injured. These people are too sick to earn a living, and will live off the support of their extended family until they get medical attention. Some of them will live in agony for years, and some will die. I can see the fear in their eyes as they think what is ahead of them. What to do? (as they say in Liberia). Olly