Big Bay Outreach
The plan was a 7am departure. This is well before my normal time of morning brain activation. The following paragraph is typed deliberately to reflect my brain functioning at this time of the morning. (It's an artistic technique I'm experimenting with.. go with it.)
Very early. Alarms everywhere. Footsteps. I know Robyn and Amanda are early risers. I think I heard them but they were probably trying not to disturb. I need more sleep ... can't be near time get up.. check watch .... it is.. that's very disappointing. Bed is warm. Bed is horizontal. Packing can't be done horizontal. That's very disappointing. I am pretty much packed. Can lie for longer then. Breakfast is optional. Dozing is imperative. Rest is a basic human need. More footsteps, now voices. That means I have to get up soon, probably now, very disappointing.
Judder. Must have fallen asleep. Time check. 5 whole minutes of unconsciousness. That has to be good. Now the whole house if pulsing with activity. Sit upright. Brain fails to engage. Lie flat... better but not awesome. Have to get up... now.
Did I mention that this technique might be a compensation for lack of good blog content or style? You be the judge.
It wasn't long after a reasonably relaxed breakfast that the pace began to accelerate. Last minute showers were at a premium since we were going to be staying in pretty basic conditions. For example, there is no water at BB. Caveat... if you are not a local, there's no water. If you are a local, theres a river you can drink from and wash in. If you are not a local, your stomach is not "strong" so to drink from the river would be foolhardy. We were carrying 120 litres of potable water with us.
Just as we reached frenzy pace, Was arrived with a utility. Apparently his bus wasn't suitable as we had much gear, and the gifts were bulky. Two utilities, with some of us riding cowgirl style in the tray was the order of the day.
The trip was enlightening. We retraced our tracks up the bitumen road about 46 km, passing many schoolchildren making their way to school, either in little groups, or with their families. Leaving Sapi as you head north it becomes more rural, with plantations left and right. About 50 minutes later we stopped for a small break to stretch our legs; let's call this a leg break; and we were soon rollicking along a fairly bumpy dirt road westwards. Let's call this a bouncer.
We passed through a small community where Amanda had done an outreach last week, picking a bad day for it... A kindergarten activity day... Not the kind of day kids want to spend visiting the doctor! But they still seemed happy to wave at us, probably very pleased we were just passing through.
At the apex of the road we had our first view of Big Bay, overtowered by imposing mountains visible through the the steamy humidity. Butterflies fluttered by, uncluttered by impediments. Clutterbucks were shutterbugs. Eliterations proliferated. We hit the road again.
Down a steep hill, the road was more challenging. We pitied the tray riders, and their occasional screams reminded us that when you are sitting in the back of a utility, there's not much that protects your ischial tuberosities from impact. We might have lost a few passengers over the side, but soon we were on the final flats into the community. It was just short of 9am as we pulled in. Paramount chief Solomon and his son Bill, and their families were there to greet us and guide us to the clinic site, overlooking the bay. We went straight into work mode, setting up tables, chairs, stools, the Medical Santo banner (I got a thumb injury as Bill accidentally tried to hammer me into the upright. As the clinic's first patient I got a bandaid. Number one!)
A couple of people gathered and we were in action. Then.... The school arrived. Unbeknown to us they had come in by vehicle.. All these chattering laughing smiling schoolchildren. We were overwhelmed but no-one seemed to bat an eyelid, or even eye a batlid. We worked our way through the the masses, mainly children, with adults interspersed.
Register, screen BP, blood sugar, and take a basic history, send for eyecheck, then wait for the doctor. It went smoothly mostly. Language was a real barrier as our Bislama varied from Amanda's fluency, through Li's proficiency gained by dedicated study down to my ".....UM...... Wanem.....UM NO .... Olsem, Wanem.... UM.... Name blong iu?"
Some people had good English and some spoke French. Many had no English, so thankfully Michael and Amanda were floating around to give us guidance. Many of the doctors had brought ophthalmoscopes/auroscopes so we were fairly well sorted. However, every case had its challenges. I was overwhelmed by an undescended testicle. I'm not sure how many of you readers have had this experience, but it poses a difficult dilemma.. Do you refer for an operation, that might not happen, or might even be botched (competence here is a lottery if you go to the hospital), or do you reassure the patient, and hope they don't get testicular cancer later in life? We recorded the situation and chose the latter.
I was challenged by the encounter with clinical medicine, but the day progressed. We had a great lunch (Thanks R,M,P,B and whoever helped in preparation and serving), and pushed on. By 3pm we still had lots of patients milling, and Bill suggested we prioritise the children, which we did. Eventually we were pretty tired and we decided to end the clinic. We all made for the beach and plonked into the water. Wow! Warm and balmy. The sun slowly descended as we made for the river to wash. We inadvertently disrupted custom, some of the group not finding the private women's area to satisfy the criteria designated (private, women only) so they bathed with some of the men.
After a delicious dinner (thanks so much Li and Janice!) we were off to huts and tents. Mosquitoes are a problem here so netting was deployed. Mary and I found that netting over the Hubba Hubba set up in the clinic was a good setup. I slept well but morning came oh too quickly.
Very early. Alarms everywhere. Footsteps. I know Robyn and Amanda are early risers. I think I heard them but they were probably trying not to disturb. I need more sleep ... can't be near time get up.. check watch .... it is.. that's very disappointing. Bed is warm. Bed is horizontal. Packing can't be done horizontal. That's very disappointing. I am pretty much packed. Can lie for longer then. Breakfast is optional. Dozing is imperative. Rest is a basic human need. More footsteps, now voices. That means I have to get up soon, probably now, very disappointing.
Judder. Must have fallen asleep. Time check. 5 whole minutes of unconsciousness. That has to be good. Now the whole house if pulsing with activity. Sit upright. Brain fails to engage. Lie flat... better but not awesome. Have to get up... now.
Did I mention that this technique might be a compensation for lack of good blog content or style? You be the judge.
It wasn't long after a reasonably relaxed breakfast that the pace began to accelerate. Last minute showers were at a premium since we were going to be staying in pretty basic conditions. For example, there is no water at BB. Caveat... if you are not a local, there's no water. If you are a local, theres a river you can drink from and wash in. If you are not a local, your stomach is not "strong" so to drink from the river would be foolhardy. We were carrying 120 litres of potable water with us.
Just as we reached frenzy pace, Was arrived with a utility. Apparently his bus wasn't suitable as we had much gear, and the gifts were bulky. Two utilities, with some of us riding cowgirl style in the tray was the order of the day.
The trip was enlightening. We retraced our tracks up the bitumen road about 46 km, passing many schoolchildren making their way to school, either in little groups, or with their families. Leaving Sapi as you head north it becomes more rural, with plantations left and right. About 50 minutes later we stopped for a small break to stretch our legs; let's call this a leg break; and we were soon rollicking along a fairly bumpy dirt road westwards. Let's call this a bouncer.
We passed through a small community where Amanda had done an outreach last week, picking a bad day for it... A kindergarten activity day... Not the kind of day kids want to spend visiting the doctor! But they still seemed happy to wave at us, probably very pleased we were just passing through.
At the apex of the road we had our first view of Big Bay, overtowered by imposing mountains visible through the the steamy humidity. Butterflies fluttered by, uncluttered by impediments. Clutterbucks were shutterbugs. Eliterations proliferated. We hit the road again.
Down a steep hill, the road was more challenging. We pitied the tray riders, and their occasional screams reminded us that when you are sitting in the back of a utility, there's not much that protects your ischial tuberosities from impact. We might have lost a few passengers over the side, but soon we were on the final flats into the community. It was just short of 9am as we pulled in. Paramount chief Solomon and his son Bill, and their families were there to greet us and guide us to the clinic site, overlooking the bay. We went straight into work mode, setting up tables, chairs, stools, the Medical Santo banner (I got a thumb injury as Bill accidentally tried to hammer me into the upright. As the clinic's first patient I got a bandaid. Number one!)
A couple of people gathered and we were in action. Then.... The school arrived. Unbeknown to us they had come in by vehicle.. All these chattering laughing smiling schoolchildren. We were overwhelmed but no-one seemed to bat an eyelid, or even eye a batlid. We worked our way through the the masses, mainly children, with adults interspersed.
Register, screen BP, blood sugar, and take a basic history, send for eyecheck, then wait for the doctor. It went smoothly mostly. Language was a real barrier as our Bislama varied from Amanda's fluency, through Li's proficiency gained by dedicated study down to my ".....UM...... Wanem.....UM NO .... Olsem, Wanem.... UM.... Name blong iu?"
Some people had good English and some spoke French. Many had no English, so thankfully Michael and Amanda were floating around to give us guidance. Many of the doctors had brought ophthalmoscopes/auroscopes so we were fairly well sorted. However, every case had its challenges. I was overwhelmed by an undescended testicle. I'm not sure how many of you readers have had this experience, but it poses a difficult dilemma.. Do you refer for an operation, that might not happen, or might even be botched (competence here is a lottery if you go to the hospital), or do you reassure the patient, and hope they don't get testicular cancer later in life? We recorded the situation and chose the latter.
I was challenged by the encounter with clinical medicine, but the day progressed. We had a great lunch (Thanks R,M,P,B and whoever helped in preparation and serving), and pushed on. By 3pm we still had lots of patients milling, and Bill suggested we prioritise the children, which we did. Eventually we were pretty tired and we decided to end the clinic. We all made for the beach and plonked into the water. Wow! Warm and balmy. The sun slowly descended as we made for the river to wash. We inadvertently disrupted custom, some of the group not finding the private women's area to satisfy the criteria designated (private, women only) so they bathed with some of the men.
After a delicious dinner (thanks so much Li and Janice!) we were off to huts and tents. Mosquitoes are a problem here so netting was deployed. Mary and I found that netting over the Hubba Hubba set up in the clinic was a good setup. I slept well but morning came oh too quickly.
Wow sounds so full on! Nice you were actually able to do something helpful
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