Turning point- Athens

June 21, 2012

                Throughout my time in the maternity ward there has always been the same beautiful woman in bed 10. I’ve never known her name and I’ve never fully understood why she was in the hospital for so long. What I do know is that this is her first pregnancy, she has poly-something (to much amniotic fluid) and we had to drain 500cc off her. She was always in her bed with her medications laid out waiting for me when I came around at 5am and she had the most beautiful smile when she greeted me. From the way she was built I would have to say that she about 18-20 years old, but no one around here really knows their true age.

                She went into labor before I got to work. When I checked her progress she was 2cm dilated. She stayed in her bed and labored until about 1 am when we moved her to the delivery room she was 5 cm. Her water still hadn’t broke so Jo got out a internal fetal heart monitor that is normally screwed into the baby’s head hooked up to monitor but they don’t have a monitor so they just use the screw tip to pop the women’s water. When Jo finally broke her water it rushed out so far it seriously looked like the rapids. I’m pretty sure my month was hanging open in awe of home much and how fast it all came out. Jo had to jump back because there was so much. But not before it drenched the front of him.

                She progressed slowly and by 4 am she was finally 10 cm and I could see that head just by spreading the labia. She strained for about an hour pushing with everything she had and finally at 5:15 am the most beautiful boy was born. As I clamped the cord and began to suction the baby was flaccid, no crying, and cyanotic. I suctioned more and tried to stimulate the baby.

Within seconds Jo grabbed the ambu bag and started CPR. I don’t know if he even knew what he was doing, he just started pumping air in rapidly and by the way the chest wasn’t moving I knew that nothing was getting in. I pushed him out of the way checked for a pulse and lifted the chin and began again. The time there was movement I went to do chest compressions and as I pushed down I could feel the babies rib bow with every thrust and I thought I was going to snap each one of them. (I’ve never done CPR on a baby). I checked for a pulse again there was nothing…. More air…more chest compressions…..more suction….more anything!!!! Nothing was helping.

I’ve never been in a situation like this. You read about what your suppose to do in nursing school, but never really get to experience it. In my mind I kept thinking about what the next step would be…intubation….monitor….oxygen… This is Africa, there is NOTHING! If only we had some equipment we could have seen this coming.

I knew coming here I would see death.

I knew coming here I would be faced with a scary unknown.

I knew I would have to go outside my well organized, clean, safe and time oriented bubble.

I knew I would have to stand on my own knowing the only way I would ever make it through this year would be to rely on God to pull me through.

What I wasn’t ready for was the sight of what should have been a happy new mother sitting in the maternity ward with a  brand new baby, but instead this women was babyless crying curled up on a mattress bed surrounded by a whole room of happy health mothers and babies all starring at her.

It broke my heart in a million different ways and I wanted nothing more than to rewind time and try again.

June 29, 2012

Today this lady came back to the hospital and I was able to spend some time with her while she talked to the doctor (Danae). I about burst into tears as soon as I realized who she was. Danae was able to tell me alittle bit about this women. Her name is Beatrice and she thinks she is 19 years old. Her husband left her before the baby was born and the reason she was in the hospital for long is because she had nowhere else to go. I was having a really hard time keeping it together while I was listening to how horrible this young girls life is. This baby was the last thing she had of her husband and I tried so hard not to blame myself for ruining that for her but its hard not to when you know that if only we were some other country we could have the equipment we need that could have saved this babies life.

 It felt so good to just sit together and to see her smile

Move to the nutrition center

June 27, 2012

A couple days ago we moved to out of the Roberts house and to the nutrition center.  To be honest it has taken some getting use to.  We have no running water out there, and get our water from a well, and there is also no electricity.  It kinda feels like we are camping.  Our house has no furniture ( no beds, table, or shelves for clothes or food)  We have mattress that we sleep on that are on the floor.  We have constructed to rows of shelves out of plywood and bricks.  We are able to use that as our make shift kitchen.  The shelves hold most of our cooking utensils and stove.  To cook we have a three burner camp stove.

I was told when coming out here what our accommodations would be like…. But I won’t lie it was kind of a shock.  We have been staying with the Roberts while the nutrition center/ our house was finished and we got use to  having running water, toilets, electricity and a kitchen.  So to be without the things we are so used to, takes some getting used to.  The plan is to get some furniture like beds, table, chairs and hopefully shelves.  But I am not sure when.  I have learned that things take a long time to get done here.  Nothing is simple.  There is no quick trip to Walmart, or the hardware store.  Our little village market has the bare essentials and not much else.  Most things you have to get in the capital which is a 6 hr plus drive away.

Washing our dishes today made me miss a dishwasher and my mother’s beautiful kitchen.  Here I was squatting in the wet sand/mud (it had rained really hard this afternoon) washing dishes with well water that basically looked like water that came from a ditch.  Our security guard who works at night draws up water from our well and fills a big container every night for us.  Then we are able to have water to filter to drink, water for taking bucket showers, washing clothes and water to clean our dishes.  As I was squatting in the mud trying to scrub crusty rice out of the pressure cooker I started to question how clean our dishes were getting. Was I really getting the dishes clean when the water I was using to wash was cloudy, with floating particles that were undeterminable?  I mean sure the dishes didn’t have any more food on them but what organisms were hiding in the murky water I was using to clean the dishes?  I decided it was best to ignore the murky water with the questionable floating particles and focus more on getting food off the dishes.  I have been told that once the dishes are dry that it kills any organisms left from the water.  I can only hope that is true….

For our shower we have a raised cement square slab with a drain in the middle.  The shower is outside the house. For the four walls surrounding our shower we have what is called secos.  They are a woven grass like fence that is about 6 ft high.  The grass is woven tightly together and sturdy sticks are used to hold it in place.  We fill buckets from our water bin that comes from our well and carry it to our shower.  I felt slightly exposed the first time I used it.  Even though I knew that the secos were good protection from prying eyes, I just wasn’t used to the fact that I was showering outside in the wilds of Africa, using a bucket to scoop water up to pour on my head with water that looked like it came from a pond.  And like the dishes I wondered how clean I was really getting.  But I think the shower will eventually grow on me.  Not many people get to look at the stars as they shower, or take a shower out in the rain.

Our bathroom is a short walk outside our house.  It is a brick outhouse, which currently has no door.  There is no toilet, just a cement floor with a hole in the ground.  I am not sure who designed the hole that is our toilet but I am sure it was a man because he wasn’t thinking of women when he designed the hole.  The hole is shaped kinda like a saddle; bigger in the back with a long skinny front.  It’s great for guys to use because they can aim, but it is a little harder for us girls.  They say practice makes perfect so I guess I will be a pro in no time at all!! ;]   So at the moment until they put a door on our bathroom I can enjoy the view of the African wilderness and giant termite hill 40 ft in front of me. 

Sleeping under a mosquito net has taken some getting used to.  I try and spread it out so that it won’t touch me in the night, but no matter how many things I use to way it down it seems to come loose and attack me in the night.  I have a love hate relationship with my mosquito net.  And if it would only stay where I put it we would get a long great! It’s frustrating when you get in to bed at night and the opening to the net won’t stay shut.  It can’t protect me from the mosquitoes if there are open spaces where the bugs/mosquitoes can get in. Then there is the problem with the beds getting dirty.  Sleeping on a mattress on the ground means you are constantly in contact with sand, dirt and bugs.  A bed is something that is meant to stay clean and dirt free.  But it’s so easy here in Africa to track sand inside because it sticks to your feet, which then can transfer to your bed. It’s even worse if your feet are wet!!  I feel like I am constantly brushing sand and dead bugs off of my bed.  I think I need to start having a bucket of water by my bed so I can wash my feet before I get in.

At the moment we are still working on completing the other buildings that make up the nutrition center.  We got our first pts today, three malnourished babies all under the age of two.  Thankfully they are still able to eat so we didn’t have to put feedings tubes down them.  But if there isn’t any improvement in the next few days we might have to use feeding tubes.  I still have a couple night left in my night shift rotation but we soon have to work out some sort of schedule between Athens, Bronwyn and I to be able to feed these babies around the clock.  We will be taking turns waking the mothers up every two hours to make sure their babies get fed during the night.  Athens and I will rotate days between the hospital and nutrition center starting this next month.

Since moving out to the nutrition center I have been praying for strength and patience.  Every day it gets a little easier living out there and adjusting to our living situation.  Once the shock wears off I think it will be easier.  Getting some furniture will also help.  At the moment we are still living out of our bags.  The big thing I have learned about myself is how much I took running water for granted.  Washing dishes, clothes, taking a shower, and purifying your water takes time and is a lot of work.  I miss being able to simply lift a handle and out streams clean water!!  There are very few people here that have running water, and I get a glimpse of how they live their life every day.

Malaria- carlie

Malaria

It was the worst night of my life, and that is the truth.  Honestly the only thing that could have made that night worse was if I got stung or bitten by a snake/scorpion.  It started off as a perfectly normal night.  Athens and I got ready for work, I drove us on the motorbike down to the hospital.  My stomach was slightly upset but I kept thinking that it would get better as the night went on.  My stomach being upset isn’t something new.  I vomited the 3^rd day after we arrived in Africa and have vomited about one or twice a week since being here. I guess my stomach doesn’t agree with Africa.  But this time my stomach didn’t get better.  The pain kept getting worse, and I felt extremely nauseated.  I was working in the ER that night and Athens was in Maturnity.  When I didn’t think the night could get worse it started to rain.  When it rains in Africa it pours.  The ground becomes rivers which then turn into lakes.  There is lots of thunder and lightening.  The storm is great when you are nice and warm inside, but if you are trying to make a run to the bathroom it is not good.

So there I was stuck in the ER building the furthest building from the bathrooms, debating if I should make a run to the bathrooms or not.  And I use the term bathroom liberally.  The bathrooms here consist of a tiny outhouse looking building with a hole in the ground as the toilet. There is a square ceramic base that you stand on as you squat over the hole.  Most the time there is no TP in the bathrooms so you have to bring your own from home.  It was raining so hard that I didn’t want to leave the building, so I ended up throwing up outside.  After that I told the other nurses that I wasn’t feeling well and went into the nurses room and curled up on the desk.  I tried to sleep but the pain in my stomach was unbearable.  I have never had such intense pain before.  I felt like someone was stabbing me repeatedly in the stomach.  And at the same time I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up. I decided to brave the storm and made a run for the bathroom.  I hoped that I just had some GI issues and by using the bathroom I would soon feel better.  Sadly that was not the case.  The bathroom trip was completely unsucessfull.  By the time I made a run back for the ER I was completely wet, and feeling like a drowned rat.  I curled up back on the table, soaking wet and completely miserable.  I wanted to go home back to Bendale, but I couldn’t because of the heavy rain.  I was stuck in the ER, lying on a tiny desk with the worst stomach pain/nausea of my life. 

I braved the storm again sometime later, with the same unsuccessful results.  This all took place between 12 and 5 am.  By 5 am I knew I had to do something.  I couldn’t stand another second of this intense pain.  By this time the storm had calmed down and it wasn’t raining as hard.  I ran over to the maternity to tell Athens that I was going to go talk to Olwen (the Dr who runs the hospital) and see what he says about my situation.  On the way over to Olwens I threw up twice on the ground.  So now I was wet, in pain, nauseated, and had vomit splatter on my feet.  I was a complete mess, and looked like one too.  After waking Olwen up and talking to him he told me to lay down in the dental office tell the lab opened so that I could take a malaria test.  He also had Athens give me some IM Phenagrin for the pain (which did not help at all).

When I thought my life couldn’t possibly get any worse it did.  There I was lying on a extra bed in the dental room (I have no idea why there needs to be a bed in the dental room) thinking that I was going to get some sleep, when all a sudden I felt something drop on the bed besides me.  I sit up and look down by my feet and see something black, and it starts to move towards me.  I jump off the bed, and this things starts to crawl sideways across the bed, then it jumps in the air and fly’s across the room!  I turn on my head lamp and start searching the room.  That when I see this bat lying on the sink.  I am not a fan of bats, and even less of a fan of bats in the same room with me.  I notice that there is a hole in the ceiling above the bed and believe that’s where the bat got in.  After that bat experience there was no way I was going to get any sleep!  I wasn’t about to have more bats dropping out of the hole onto my bed again.  Sleep was out of the question anyways because the stomach pain had not subsided.  I ended up switching from pacing back in forth like a caged animal to sitting in the dental chair. 

When the lab finally opened I went and got a finger prick, and did a stool sample. For stool samples here they usually have people poop on a mango leaf.  I lucked out, and they gave me a medicine cup to use for my sample.  Stool samples or messy business.  Stool samples + diarrhea + tiny medicine cup = very messy business!  That was not a fun experience, but I was just thankful for the medicine cup.  I don’t know what I would have done if they had handed me a mango leaf!

Bronwin came and got us, and drove us back to the Roberts.  After a quick cold shower I got in bed and slept tell about 2:30 pm.  By the time I woke up my stomach pain was gone and I was feeling a little better, just really tired.  But then I was informed by the others that my test results had come back positive for Malaria.  Thankfully I had my Malarone to take as treatment.  I am resisting taking the Quinine for treatment, saving it for a “last resort”.  For about the next 2 days I slept, only getting up to use the bathroom and eat.  I was so tired and worn out.  I felt like I could sleep for days.  Malaria effects people different ways, and not the same way each time.  I knew when I came out here that I would probably get it, I just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Cultural immersion- carlie

June 18, 2012

So I feel the need to tell my side of the story in regards to the pt that I thought was dead who was in fact very much alive.  What happened was the night before when I was working in ER/Urgent we had a young boy die from a viper bite.  Apparently he had been bitten 5 days ago but his family didn’t bring him in tell 5 days after.  I was taking a power nap and it was around 3 am in the morning when I was woken up by moaning, talking and hushed crying.  I went out of my nursing station which consists of a tiny square room with a cloth handing for the door.  I sleep on the desk in there at night, preferring the small hard wooden desk then a exam table in ER. The exam tables never really get cleaned properly.  Just like the nursing room in maternity the two walls of the nursing station don’t go all the way to the ceiling so you can hear everything that is going on around you on the ward.  Plus my door is a purple cloth, which doesn’t really do much in a way of a door.  I went out to see what was going on and found about 12 people surrounding a bed.  One of the other ER nurses was out there with them and he speaks a little English and I was able to find out that the boy had just died.  The family had covered the boys face with a cloth and then rapped the rest of his body in cloth so he looked like a mummy.  Then they picked up the woven map that was under his body and carried him outside.  When someone dies here, they bury them right away because of the heat. I was slightly shocked at how fast they got the body wrapped and taken outside.  He had only died about 10 min before, then his family took him home.

So when the next day I was over helping Athens with meds there was some confusion.  It was around midnight and we were doing meds on the surgical ward when I happened to look over at one of the pts beds and see them surrounded by family.  There was about 8 people around the bed and they were talking, quietly among themselves. Having lots of people around the bed is very common here.  Pts family come with the pt like a packaged deal.  At night you have to do crazy stepping moves so you don’t step on them as they sprawl there sleeping.  They spread out there mats around the beds and you can find like 4 people to a mat. I took a step closer to the bed and that’s when I got a good look at the pt.  The pts face was covered with a towel and his whole body was wrapped up in a sheet.  As I stood there trying to assess what the situation was and just about to go over to see if the pt was breathing when the family member started to lift the pt up by the mat. Remembering the viper bite boy, I turned back to Athens and told her we should get Joe cause I think the pt just died.  I was afraid they were going to take the body home without talking to one of the nurses.  And since I couldn’t speak to them, I knew I had to get Joe.  So I went running back to maternity, woke Joe up and dragged him back to surgical to talk to the family.  He went over to the family and started talking to them.  That’s when I started to realize that something was not right.  Joe and the family were laughing.  You don’t laugh after someone dies….at least not in America.  Athens and I looked at each other then Athens went closer to the bed and then she started to laugh too.  Apparently the pt was just sleeping, snoring in fact. The family were moving him up in bed when they were lifting him. So if I had gotten closer and actually checked him then I would have realized that there was no way that he had died.  I think every pt in surgical found out about what I thought happened.  Everyone was laughing including me.  I felt like a complete idiot, and started to question whether I really had graduated from nursing school or not!  But I was also so relieved that the pt wasn’t dead, so I was more happy than embarrassed.  So now the big joke here among the missionaries is asking me if I had any more fake dead people at the hospital. From that experience I have learned to not be afraid of the language barrier but instead, go over and check the pt and ask the family.  I won’t be declaring any living person dead again!!!

African Wedding

Wedding reception

This last Friday we were invited to an African Wedding of one of the chiefs in the area.  We all crowded in this little church, with all the women on one side and the men on the other.  There was lots of chanting, dancing, shrieking and drum playing. When the bride came down the aisle women fallowed her, chanting, singing, and dancing.  Dancing here is consists of doing a foot shuffle, clapping and shrugging your shoulders.  Then randomly women will shriek.  It’s this high pitch yipping sound, kind of like Zena The Warrior Princess war cry.  I want to practice my Zena war cry, and shoulder shrugging so I can join in the dancing at the next wedding or random party.  The people here already stare and laugh at the white people, so I think I will give them something to stare at.  They always want you to dance, trying to pull you in to their circle, so I think next time I will join them.  Guys and girls don’t really dance together, and don’t show much affection for each other in public.  It’s perfectly ok here for girls to hold hands with girls, and guys to hold hands with guys.  It’s also ok for a man to have more than one wife.  The women here are not respected at all.  They are in charge of taking care of the children, making and buying food, planting and taking care of their crops and basically making the families run smoothly.  The men build the houses.  That’s about it.  You see them at times working in the field but not often.  It’s also acceptable to beat your wife if you have the need to.  The women here need to have a suffrage movement or something.  The plan is at the nutrition center to teach women, about bettering their health and the health of their family.  And since knowledge is power, hopefully we will in some way in power in the women here in Chad.

Back to the wedding.  The wedding was in a church.  The ground is dirt, and the benches are made of wood with no backs to them.  There is no electricity in the church so it’s a little dark, but they prop the windows open for light.  The groom and bride sat up front facing away from the guests.  The pastor said a whole lot of words in Nondrian (the local language) that went on for a like a hour.  Then after the ceremony the people give an offering forming a line that circle around the bride and groom.  Most people dance in the line, and clap as someone plays the drums and sings.  After the ceremony the bride and groom shake everyone’s hands outside the church.  The reception was held at the groom’s family’s house.  The meal consisted of the first course which was baked peanuts and gatos (which are these little fried donuts) then we had the vegetarian option for the main dish which was rice with leozae sauce (which is sorel leaves and peanuts).  It basically looks like a spinach sauce on rice.  Not the most appetizing to look at but it was actually pretty good.  The rest of the guests had some sort of meat, probably goat on their rice.  The whole time you are sitting at the tables eating, music is blaring in the background.  It’s a random up beat sounding music, and I thing I caught a song by Tpain playing when we left.  During the whole wedding ceremony the bride was very reserved and I never once saw her smile.  It made me wonder if she really happy to be married to him, or if this was a forced marriage.  Apparently weddings here are rare, and instead of the actual ceremony guys just take women they want to be there wife and keep them.  I was told that usually after some sort of party a guy will take a girl home with him, have sex with her and not allow her to leave his home.  During that week that she is there, unable to leave the guy will negotiate some sort of bridal price with her family.  Don’t quote me on this, but this is what the other missionary’s say happens, and what the locals have told them that how marriages are done here.  So I thought going to this wedding ceremony that the bride and groom were in love or something since there was a ceremony and he wasn’t just keeping her.  But after seeing the bride never smile I am not sure.  Maybe she was just shy… I hope she is happy.

Eating dinner at the Chiefs house

Athens and I are learning how to ride a motorcycle.  We have a red Honda that is ours to use while we are here.  It is brand new and really nice.  I feel pretty BA when I ride it!! LOL!  I have had some experience with riding dirt bikes and four wheelers so it hasn’t been too hard to remember how to drive.  The problem with driving here is not the bike or the driver but the road conditions.  The roads here are dirt roads with huge puddles which are more like lakes in the rainy season.  The puddles get so big that they take up the whole road in spots.  So you have to try and drive around it which doesn’t always work.  It’s the planting season here and people plant crops EVERYWHERE!!  They plant corn right up to the road.  So trying to drive around a puddle you sometime have to drive in their crop field, which doesn’t make them happy if you drive over a plant.  But it’s either try and go around a puddle or drive through it.  Sometime a puddle will have this tiny little ledge that you can go around the puddle on, but with unsteady hands it’s easy to go off the ledge and straight into a puddle.   So far I haven’t tipped over into a puddle, but I know there is always a first time.  When you aren’t struggling to drive around and not in puddles you are busy trying not to lose control of the bike in the sand.  The dirt roads here have lots of sand, and I have learned driving in sand is hard.  I would almost rather face the puddles!!!  So the key to driving here is driving on the side of the road where the sand is more compact, and if you have to cross over to the other side of the road you have to hold the bike steady and cross over with confidence.  I hope soon we will be able to start driving the bike to the hospital at night for our shift and bringing it back in the morning.  But something is wrong with the headlight so until Gary fixes it we can’t drive it at night.  I will miss riding three on a bike with Bronwyn!!  She usually takes us down to the hospital on her bike, and it’s always an adventure.  I have lots of respect for her and her driving skill because it is hard to drive with two people on a bike let alone three.

The arguing match English vs. French- Athens

June 26, 2012

                What is more entertaining at 5 am then a Chandian man and an American women having a yelling match in front  of all the patient in the ward? Nothing, the patients loved it. It probably wasn’t the most professional moment in my nursing career and probably would have got into trouple if I did it back in the states but luckily here in Africa it doesn’t really matter. I could have used the conflict resolution skills I learned in nursing school but at 5 am I wasn’t using that part of my brain.

                Here the only way to get these lazy African nurses to do anything is to yell at them and threaten them. And that’s just what I did. The fact that culturally men here give the orders and women do what they are told otherwise they get beat probably took Jo off guard when I yelled back at him. I thought about being culturally sensitive and keep my mouth shut but then again I’m not one to get walked over or feel like I don’t have any say. So I showed him just how Non-Chadian I am. And gave him just a small portion of my mind. I don’t think he could have handled the whole thing. He probably didn’t understand even half of what I was saying but when I left him to finish up the last of the patients by himself he got my point and tonight when I went to work he was more than helpful and did his share of work. Mission accomplished.

Honest mistake- Athens

June 17, 2012

                Just another night working on the maternity ward. Just hanging out with a pregnant women who is making African warrior calls with every contraction.

                Her husband is a nurse in pediatric ward and he informs me that he wants to learn English so he finds me fascinating and keeps asking me questions but I can understand me so just smile J One of the questions he asks is if I’m married. Oh no I know where this is going. When I say no his mother promptly asks me to be his second wife, I’m in shock!  I know its custom here for men to have multiple wives but is it really polite to ask when your current wife is in the room about to give birth. Awkward! More so for me then any of them.

                I say no as politely as possible and just smile really big, but with the awkward silence after I declined I decide to do something productive. As I prepare to examine his wife’s progress. When I lift up her gown I am greeted by a very swollen labia majoria . So swollen I can’t tell what’s what and where. I decide not to panic its down there somewhere. So I decide to just drive right in. I’ll find what I’m looking for….eventually. First attempt…over shot it, second attempt….under shot it. Last chance…over shot it again. The patient was so kind as to guide my hand to the proper place. I was so embarrassed, but I tried to contain myself. Just another reason why I shouldn’t be an OB nurse.

*This lady stopped contracting at 8cm, this was her first pregnancy and she was having twins and the presenting part was an arm , both babies were transverse. The doctor was called and on ultrasound only one hear beat was seen. Dr. Danae Nettenberg did a cesarean. 

Motos, Ants and Geckos- Athens

June 11, 2012

                After an uneventful night in the ER Gary has me drive home from the hospital on the Moto. Not a good decision on his part. It takes a couple of tries for me to get going but I start off by going off-roading but Gary helps guide me back on track. From there I master the deep sandy roads and around giant puddles until the end I approach one final puddle. As I approach it I look at both sides trying to decide which path would be the easiest to get around the puddle. I decide to go right and just as I start to veer in that direction I hear a voice from behind me saying “We should go the other way.” The calm rational thing to do would be to slow down and turn in the other direction. But with me everything is more complicated and difficult. I freak out like the girl that I am and lock up. Which in turn sends me off roading and into some ones field. What makes it worse is that the people that own the field were in it plowing at the time so they all stop what they were doing and stare at the crazy white person that doesn’t know how to drive. While other by standards on the road just laugh at me. Fortunately Gary has long enough arms that he can reach around me and grab to handle bars and lead me back to the road before any serious damage is done. Besides my pride that is. Almost home and only one more obstacle to concur.  I need to turn between two metal poles that are wide enough apart for a car to fit through so getting a moto bike through them should be a piece of cake. Right? Well for anyone not named Athens sure but for me not so much. I try making a wide turn thinking that would make it easier and that I would slow down and pass between the poles with ease and grace like a pro and maybe redeem some of my confidence back that I lost about a mile down the road. Nope! May pride and confident that I had in being able to drive a moto bike is non-existent as soon as I being to turn and I forget which way to turn the throttle and instead of slowing down to turn I speed up and head straight for the pole. Again Gary’s long arms save not only my life but his as well inches before we collide. I think this might be enough excitement for one day….not quite.

                After a semi-peaceful sleep I wake up to the feeling of being pinched and something crawling along my hands and arms. I turn over and switch on my lamp and look around my bed and I’m surrounded by big red African ants. That BITE!!! Not a good way to wake up. I grab some shoes and Carlie and we stomp them to death. But the more we stomp and move beds and bags the more we find.

                While we are moving bags around we find a gecko hiding. With my stealthy ninja skills I trap him under the broom and we call for Bronwyn to come and help us. As we reach for the gecko it tries to escape and make its way up Bronwyn’s’ pant leg. She gets it trapped around her knee and as she tries to walk outside to let it go it makes it way even farther up her trousers to her butt. When she finally make it outside she has to unzip her pants and reveal her bottom for the gecko to escape.

               Just another day in Africa.

My wound after my crash into a bush.

Gary the teacher

My own Moto!!! No clutch.

I'm driving. Watch out.

Flying solo/ the proposal- Athens

June 10, 2012

                Carlie is out sick tonight so I’m on my own at the hospital. I have no one to speak English to but then again that means I can say whatever I want and no one knows what I’m saying. J

                I got to deliver a baby by myself. Jo was there to coach me but I was able to help the mother deliver and when the head popped out I froze a little but I just grabbed the head and pulled and then the rest of the body just slipped out. Clapped the cord check, cut the cord check, suction baby check, clean baby and take care of mother check. I feel like a real nurse!!! Finally!!!

                The Chadian nurse that I work with on Maternity (Jo) informed me that he is going to “make you my women”(in his broken English). As intriguing and romantic as that proposal was I had to decline. Later he told me that he would leave his first wife and 2 kids for me to be his second wife and go to America. Some ones always after that green card. J