that's different....
(please note that there is another new post below this one that should probably be read first...)
we had a freind heather sutton visiting for the past several weeks, and one of the things that she passed on to us (as passed on to her by her mother) was the phrase "that's different" in place of when we would be tempted to say "that's weird." and that kind of sums up some of the experiences i had this past week.
although i am usually prepared for the fact that there is nothing "normal" here in guatemala, there are some things that happen that i would not have ever expected even if i had been warned of them...
on friday morning, aaron walked out into the back pasture at duane and leslie's house and noticed that one of the calves that had been looking sick was not responding to the treatment they had tried, and was now looking near death, to put it nicely. while still walking enough to nuzzle me, she was extremely thin, and now had bloody stool (sorry to the non-medical or weak stomached people). so, leslie, hannah (from phone consults) and i used our "people medicine" brain and decided that she needed metronidazol and fluids. i half jokingly said to aaron, "i mean, ideally we would start an iv on her..." little did i know that less than an hour later, i would be out in the back field, hovering over a 200 pound calf, trying to figure out how in the world you start an iv on something with so much hair! as she was struggling quite a bit, and at this point couldn't even stand up, we figured that any efforts made would be better than nothing, and i kept feeling for veins and then sticking the needle in. finally, about to give up, i shoved the needle in as far as it would go towards what looked like a vein in her neck, and with only a bit fo the catheter left to go in, i felt the pop that meant it had entered the vein, and i got a blood return.... i was in shock. so, we quickly hooked up the "bovine" iv fluids that aaron purchased from town, and sat there for two hours while it slowly drained. i would like to say that all of our efforts were worth it, but about three hours after the iv was finished, we said good-bye to our new-found friend forever on this earth. i do have to say that those kinds of days do make me wonder what future experience that was preparation for.... :)
and saturdays clinic continued the weirdness... i mean "different-ness."
about an hour into clinic, a child got hit by a motorcycle outside of our clinic. in about five split seconds, we had a knock on the door, a kid being rushed in moaning, a mother wailing, and about 500 people standing in the waiting area, buzzing with questions and speculations. thankfully, there was nothing worng with the kid, except for a scrapped up elbow and a little scratch on his head, but it seemed to get the ball rolling...
while this was all going on, hannah moved over to help leslie with the emergency care (i'm not one for blood if it can be helped... i know, why did i choose nursing then?), i finished up my patient and took over hannah's. it was a young sweet girl who told me that she was here for an ultrasound to see if she was pregnant. i had her lay on the table and i got the ultrasound up and running. as i soon saw a little baby on the screen, i pointed to the screen for her and said, "here's your little baby." of all the responses, i was unprepared for this one as she covered her face with both hands and openly started weeping! unsure of quite what to do, i asked her if she wanted the baby, to which she strongly shook her head up and down in a "yes" manner. so, i placed one of my hands on her arm, attempting to give her time to calm down a little, but she sat straight up and put her head on my shoulder, weeping. as i patted her back, she threw both arms around me and continued to cry into my shoulder. (remember that at this moment, there is about 20 extra people on the other side of a thin curtain examining the boy who just got hit...) so, feeling quite awkward, but also being able to relate in my current condition (please see the below post for further explanation on that one) , i find my eyes tearing up as well, and we stand there, two women, holding each other while the patient openly sobs tears of joy, and the nurse tries to hold back tears of her own... different, but good :)
and towards the end of clinic, i had an older lady in her 70's come in, walking with a cane, and taking her time to sit down in her stiffness. as her complaints were listed, she pointed out her toenails which were in need of some good anti-fungal nail lacquer that we had just received in our clinic. so, i sat down on a chair opposite her and, with her feet lifted up on a chair between us, i proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes painting her toenails. as we continued through the toenail painting experience, she also brought out her glasses which had a lens popped out that i put back in, and then she told me that her birthday was coming up next week, and wondered if we gave out money here for birthdays... so, i informed her that "no, we do not give out money for birthdays here" (to her great surprise), and helped her out the door, ending a consulta that felt more like a beauty shop/glasses repair shop/chuck-e-cheese birthday consult than a medical clinic consult...
and so i am reminded that the differences often become the things that make us smile, and remind us that (at least in guatemala) there is rarely a "normal." how boring would life be if God had made us all the same? and not made some of us just a little weird... er, different.... :)
we had a freind heather sutton visiting for the past several weeks, and one of the things that she passed on to us (as passed on to her by her mother) was the phrase "that's different" in place of when we would be tempted to say "that's weird." and that kind of sums up some of the experiences i had this past week.
although i am usually prepared for the fact that there is nothing "normal" here in guatemala, there are some things that happen that i would not have ever expected even if i had been warned of them...
on friday morning, aaron walked out into the back pasture at duane and leslie's house and noticed that one of the calves that had been looking sick was not responding to the treatment they had tried, and was now looking near death, to put it nicely. while still walking enough to nuzzle me, she was extremely thin, and now had bloody stool (sorry to the non-medical or weak stomached people). so, leslie, hannah (from phone consults) and i used our "people medicine" brain and decided that she needed metronidazol and fluids. i half jokingly said to aaron, "i mean, ideally we would start an iv on her..." little did i know that less than an hour later, i would be out in the back field, hovering over a 200 pound calf, trying to figure out how in the world you start an iv on something with so much hair! as she was struggling quite a bit, and at this point couldn't even stand up, we figured that any efforts made would be better than nothing, and i kept feeling for veins and then sticking the needle in. finally, about to give up, i shoved the needle in as far as it would go towards what looked like a vein in her neck, and with only a bit fo the catheter left to go in, i felt the pop that meant it had entered the vein, and i got a blood return.... i was in shock. so, we quickly hooked up the "bovine" iv fluids that aaron purchased from town, and sat there for two hours while it slowly drained. i would like to say that all of our efforts were worth it, but about three hours after the iv was finished, we said good-bye to our new-found friend forever on this earth. i do have to say that those kinds of days do make me wonder what future experience that was preparation for.... :)
and saturdays clinic continued the weirdness... i mean "different-ness."
about an hour into clinic, a child got hit by a motorcycle outside of our clinic. in about five split seconds, we had a knock on the door, a kid being rushed in moaning, a mother wailing, and about 500 people standing in the waiting area, buzzing with questions and speculations. thankfully, there was nothing worng with the kid, except for a scrapped up elbow and a little scratch on his head, but it seemed to get the ball rolling...
while this was all going on, hannah moved over to help leslie with the emergency care (i'm not one for blood if it can be helped... i know, why did i choose nursing then?), i finished up my patient and took over hannah's. it was a young sweet girl who told me that she was here for an ultrasound to see if she was pregnant. i had her lay on the table and i got the ultrasound up and running. as i soon saw a little baby on the screen, i pointed to the screen for her and said, "here's your little baby." of all the responses, i was unprepared for this one as she covered her face with both hands and openly started weeping! unsure of quite what to do, i asked her if she wanted the baby, to which she strongly shook her head up and down in a "yes" manner. so, i placed one of my hands on her arm, attempting to give her time to calm down a little, but she sat straight up and put her head on my shoulder, weeping. as i patted her back, she threw both arms around me and continued to cry into my shoulder. (remember that at this moment, there is about 20 extra people on the other side of a thin curtain examining the boy who just got hit...) so, feeling quite awkward, but also being able to relate in my current condition (please see the below post for further explanation on that one) , i find my eyes tearing up as well, and we stand there, two women, holding each other while the patient openly sobs tears of joy, and the nurse tries to hold back tears of her own... different, but good :)
and towards the end of clinic, i had an older lady in her 70's come in, walking with a cane, and taking her time to sit down in her stiffness. as her complaints were listed, she pointed out her toenails which were in need of some good anti-fungal nail lacquer that we had just received in our clinic. so, i sat down on a chair opposite her and, with her feet lifted up on a chair between us, i proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes painting her toenails. as we continued through the toenail painting experience, she also brought out her glasses which had a lens popped out that i put back in, and then she told me that her birthday was coming up next week, and wondered if we gave out money here for birthdays... so, i informed her that "no, we do not give out money for birthdays here" (to her great surprise), and helped her out the door, ending a consulta that felt more like a beauty shop/glasses repair shop/chuck-e-cheese birthday consult than a medical clinic consult...
and so i am reminded that the differences often become the things that make us smile, and remind us that (at least in guatemala) there is rarely a "normal." how boring would life be if God had made us all the same? and not made some of us just a little weird... er, different.... :)
posted by katie at 6:08 PM
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