Birthday Weekend

Bus Stop

Road trip to N’Djamena?  Yes please. Jessica an awesome volunteer nurse from Oregon is out here for the month of February and is living with me while she’s here. She has been so much fun and this weekend she was making a trip up to the capital city to see some friends and invited me along.

5:45 a.m. we are on the Motto headed for the hospital

6:05 Dropped jess off at the bus stop to buy tickets and save seats.

6:30 Dropping the motto off at the hospital and trying to find a Klondo to take me to the bus stop.

7:00 The bus filled up in Lai so they headed straight to N’Djamena without stopping in Béré.

Front window of the car that drove us to Kelo.

7:30 We are taking a taxi to Kélo to try and catch the bus from there.

8:30 We made it in time and got front row seats.

The bus driver has readjusted his rear view mirror so that he can look right at me. Creepy.

 Jessica to my left two Arab men to my right my back pack on my feet and about 4 Arab women with babies right behind me and one is throwing up everything she’s eaten in the last year

Tchadian Pride. 

11:45 a.m. we stop at the halfway point to find food and use the bathroom. The bus driver says 15 minutes. We look for bathrooms, which of course is a hole in the ground.  This toilet is a concert floor with a drain. My pee is splashing on my feet. GROSS!!

We stop 5 different times for the Arabs to pray which is convenient cause my butt is killing me and I feel like I have a DVT in both my legs.

The bus driver has bought jess and I 2 bottles of cold water but no one else on the bus has gotten one. I feel bad for accepting it. I want everyone else to get one too.

The bus driver is outside praying and I’m sitting in the bus and I can tell from the other side of the street he’s watching me. When he’s done praying he makes his way over to the window and try’s talking to me in French. I pretend not to understand so he’ll go away. Now he’s winking at me in the mirror. Can this bus go any faster?

Camel!!!

There are so many camels all over outside and I get so excited every time we drive pass a group.

4:30 p.m. After an 8 and a half hour hot, sweaty and stinky road trip we finally made it to our destination. This is going to be a great Birthday with a great new friend in a very dangerous city. I love living abroad.

Encore. Encore.

Encore. Encore

Surgery after surgery hernia’s, hydroceles, curettages and abscesses. Dose it ever end? Nope. And just went I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to assist with another hernia repair something amazing happens.

The cutest little old Arab man comes strolling through the dirty, chipped away Bloc doors. Walking bold legged and assisted by two men I know instantly this is going to be a good one. I can tell by the huge bulge in his pants that goes down to his knees that this is no ordinary hydrocele.

Upon observation while prepping my patient I examine the surgical area. This mans scrotum has to weigh a good 10lbs. The left side was larger then the right and there was an ulceration the size of my palm on the apex of his scrotum. While prepping for surgery I couldn’t even hold it up properly to clean under it. Simion and Ndilbe laughed at me as I struggled until I gave them my pouty face and said “Aide sil vous plait”  (Help me please) then they laughed some more and took pity on me.

After the patient was prepped and ready to begin surgery and I look at his extremely large and discussing scrotum and smile and become very envious that Ndilbe gets to assist with this case. But in my mind I know there will be another one again.

Gas, Pus and a whole lot of Blood is what awaited us inside. The left testicle was complete mush. Dr. Rollin had to cut off two sections the size of my face because they were so infected.

Just when I think life is getting boring im surprised. I love working in the Bloc.

The great return. Alone.

I survived the trip home without any culture shock. Now its time to head back to good old Tchad.

When I arrive in Paris I was so bummed. I wanted to get out of the airport and explore and use all my awesome French. But I was greeted with a snowstorm. Not the best weather to explore Paris. So I did the next best thing. I slept. A full 8 hours it probably the worlds most comfortable airport chair. So comfortable that I almost missed my flight. I woke up 20 minutes before my flight was to being boarding and just to find out that they switched my gate to the other side of this huge international airport.

Upon arrival I had no idea who was picking me up, where I was going to stay for the night. I was just told, “there SHOULD be someone there”. EKK

I got off the plane and there were people with signs but none for me.

I got through customs still no one.

To baggage claim still no one.

Through security check two and still no one.

Outside the airport in the hot African air, still no one. I’m starting to think I might end up walking to Béré.

Walking to the outside airport gate I run into a very nervous Canadian and she’s looking for the Maranatha group… Thank God I’m not alone.

Finally at the main gate to exit the airport grounds and who do I see? Augustine! The hospital administrator. Thank you Jesus. I was so happy that I almost cried a little. This is not the country to be stranded in late at night.

The next morning after registration seven volunteer and two Tchadian drivers and a whole lot of luggage smashed into a van and we are on our way to Béré. Road trip of a lifetime. 10 hours and a very sore butt later I’m finally home. But I’ve been invaded. I have to spend the night in a tent and the next two weeks in a small hut with two other women. Not really the homecoming I was hoping for but I’m just happy to be home and excited to be useful again.

Now back in Tchad I’ve jumped right in and feeling like I never left. I’m back working in the Bloc and loving every minute. I think I’m even a worse driver on the Moto now then I was before. The sand is everywhere and deeper and thicker then ever. I still have yet to hit any people or animals besides frogs.