Sassy nuns and self-resolving blood clots

Sister Charity came over last night since Scary Sister Lucy was out of town. She wanted us to take full-length pictures of her in her habit and then in her civvies for her "application to 8th grade". Hmm... She had her clothes in a plastic shopping bag and changed and, borrowing my comb, did her hair after this pic was taken.
What's going on here?! You're gonna wear THAT to your first day of 8th grade? She's pulling one over on us and I'm not gonna ask any questions.
A really sweet patient of mine --did I already tell you this?-- came in with what seemed like a blood clot in his leg and shortness of breath that made me think the clot might have gone to his lungs, a pulmonary embolus. We tried to transfer him to Queen II in Maseru, the capital, so he could get heparin therapy (not available here and, even if it were, not monitorable... (not a word)) but they sent him back again because they had run out of heparin as well. Darn. This can kill people. The only thing we had to offer is aspirin but luckily --totally luckily-- he got better and better, got up out of bed and proudly walked around to show me how strong he was getting. He's only 45 but looks quite a bit older. He's pretty wasted from HIV and TB but has good energy and is very close to his son who tended to him for the full ten days he was with us. I was excited to be sending someone home and he was pretty excited to take a photo.
This is my partner in health education this week, Me Lesowane. She and I have been having a good ol' time doing safe sex education, teaching people about the dangers of ignoring high blood pressure or treating it with traditional Basotho remedies, talking through the probable course for patients who have had bad strokes, pushing the importance of anti-retroviral therapy on people who have lived in denial of their HIV status. She rocks and she's like my cultural broker, explaining what I can and can not say to patients, explaining why people are resistant to some of my suggestions and not others, and cheering me on during procedures like my first pleural tap today.

Alright, I'm off up the hill to see if the laundry is done. I have one more pair of undies and I don't think Joe is so lucky.