I remember reading the well-known story of one man's humble attempt to rescue thousands of beached starfish back into the ocean, one by one. Mama Sue had it posted on our fridge for years. I remember not really grasping the significance of the punch line.
“It matters to this one”
At the time, it didn’t even occur to me that some would have considered the man’s efforts futile. I wholeheartedly sided with the labourer, not the skeptic.
I guess then I grew up a little. Went to University. Took “Statistics for Nurses” (aka, we’re only going to teach you what you absolutely need to get by, cause it’s just that hard and we don’t believe you have it in you to pass an actual stats course). Learned about upstream healthcare interventions. Started thinking about the world of limited resources that we live in. Adopted a “greatest good for the most amount of people” line of thinking. Came to Africa for the first time and stood face to face with thousands of people needing help.
Somewhere along the line, I started thinking about numbers.
It’s easy to focus on the numbers. Numbers indicate the significance of an issue. Numbers can prove that an intervention is effective and valuable. Numbers provide evidence. We hear that 22,500,000 people in Sub Saharan Africa are HIV positive and we are shocked by the magnitude of the statistic. But, unless we choose to go beyond the initial shock value of the number, then for me at least, the effect of the number ends there.
Maybe it is because I am, and forever will be a frontline person. I am invigorated when I am connecting or caring for another person. I relate to others – I find it natural to feel someone else’s pain. So a couple of weeks ago, when we were handed the lab slip for one of our patients, indicating in permanent ink that she is HIV positive, it didn’t matter to me at all that she now joins the 2% of people in her country with the same diagnosis. I know the numbers. I give socially responsible gifts for Christmas. I’ve got the GAP t-shirt. But I havn’t spent so much time thinking and reading about HIV in my life as I have these past few weeks. For me, it takes knowing the one.
She has, what will most likely prove to be for her, a terminal diagnosis. And, that news will shatter her world in the same way that it would shatter mine. She isn’t a number. It’s not easier for her to have HIV because so many others around her do too. She will experience it fully. The fact that she is one of millions doesn’t make her any less significant
It absolutely matters to her.