Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Living the dream. The Missionary nursing dream that is.-Athens



                I’ve finally done it! I not only got to meet the man that inspired me with his book “Nasara” by to be a missionary I got to work with him for a whole four days.
 Dr. James Appel books was a huge influence on mine and my families decision on coming to Tchad. His book is inspiring in how he was able to learn and adapt to the eviorment around him and to see the problems that we there and try to fix them instead of looking passed them like many other before him had. He also had a great time while helping people in one of the most remote third world countries and he also found LOVE. Romance is always a winner in my book.
                Coming to Moundou I had no idea what he had in store for me. I just said I was willing to help in any way that he needed. So straight to the OR I went. I was able to watch him in action and ask questions along the way. I wasn’t expecting to get to involved cause I’ve never been a part of a surgical team before but what better way to learn then from a great teacher like Dr. James. Oh the excitement is almost too much. But I’m a grown women and a professional so I’m going to act like one. But inside a gitty teenager.
                The first surgery I was able to watch was a urethral stricture repair. His bladder was the size of a grape fruit and had a history of difficulty peeing for the last 6 months. When they opened him up and placed a catheter they found that there was no stricture but he did have puss gushing out from his ureter. So essentially he has an infection in his kidney. Why that caused him difficulty in urination I have no idea.
A lady with a Above the knee amputation had necrotizing facites. The wounds on her leg were bluish green with a rank smell. I watched has Dr. James cut off dread skin from the wound.
Then it was show time. He let me assisted him in amputating a man’s right testicle who had a hernia repair but developed internal bleeding and now had a hematoma in his scrotum. While he did the cutting I watched in Aww as this mans cantaloupe size scrotum poured out blood. Huge clots come and then came the kicker he took the scalpel and with  a few quick slices…. There was one.
Dilation and Curettage.  I’ve seen one of these in the states. It usually takes about 10 minutes to perform using the proper equipment. Here we do everything by hand. While I held the speculum in place and Dr. James scraped what was left behind from her miscarriage. If anything is left behind it can cause bleeding and infection. Blood was splattered all over my arms and feet. We spend almost 2 hours trying to get it all out.
I was able to scrub in a cesarean birth on a woman with twins who had preeclampsia. What!? Me!? scrub in…um YES Please!!! I’m looking all professional all gowned and gloved standing opposite Dr. James. He had to give me a stool to stand on so I could see the top of the table. It happen so fast cut….fluid rush….baby one out….Suction…..baby two out…. Suction…..placenta out…..clear out blood and clots…..close….Done. WOW! Rush!
When I wasn’t watching or assisting in the OR I tried to find other ways to be helpful. I worked with the laboratory and helped with blood typing, HIV and Hepatitis B testing and placing IVs.
When surgeries were completed early and there was nothing else to do I decided to have an adventure so took a leisurely 2 mile walk from the clinic into town to the market. I was so excited to see a paved road and actual building. Probably not the best idea being a lone female and not knowing much French but I don’t like to sit still and this town is so much bigger then Béré so I had to explore.
Friday came and as much as I loved the experience of working somewhere new  I was finally ready to go home to Béré. I was lucky enough that Augustine the Béré Hospital Administrator was in Moundou at the time and was able to give me a ride back. I had to take a cuando (moto taxi) to meet him and half a mile away from my destination the moto breaks down. Just my luck.  And of course everyone from a mile away wanted to come see the white person stranded. I had to push my way through the crowd to flag down another moto to take me the rest of the way.
The truck is a old rusted loading truck and is falling apart but it runs and that’s all I need. The road back is bumpy and hot. We get stuck 3 times!! The workers had to unloaded all the cement they were hauling each time to decrease the wait to we could push the truck. I probably didn’t help much but I like to show those Tchadian men that American women aren’t wimps. By 9:30pm its dark outside and we are 18 km away from our destination and I’m the only female and with 10 men. Thank God for Gary. He drove the distance to save me
Another African adventure but not the ride home I was hoping for but that’s just life in Tchad. I think God might have sent me here to test my patience.  

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