Feb 28, 2014

The non-doctors without borders

People often think that "Doctors without borders" (MSF) is an organization for doctors - not a far fetched assumption given the name. Some people, though luckily not that many, think it's an organization only for doctor which is very far from the truth. It's not even an organization exclusively for health care providers - it's an organization for everyone. I would say that most people (if not everybody) could find a way to contribute if they wanted to, and luckily for us doctors, many non-medical people do contribute and get involved, because without them we couldn't do our job.

I've heard from both logs and fins (logisticians and finance people) that "sure, what they do is important or interesting but not as important or interesting as what the doctors do". I've even heard people talk about how insignificant their contribution is when they're not doctors - and worst of all - I've heard (ignorant) doctors talk about how they're the only ones doing any "real work". These statements make my blood boil - or depending on the mood my tears flow. The thing is it's just not true.

When working in the types of environments that MSF do (actually working anywhere in the world, but that's kind of beyond the scope of this text) working together is the key to everything. We're so completely dependent on each other. Good work is done when everyone involved is doing what they're good at. During my months in the field I think I've been most grateful to and most impressed by the non-doctors for their hard work, often done behind the scenes. They are the people who take care of all the stuff I wouldn't even know had to get done much less know how to do them.

 Just to mention a fraction of what they do;
  • Provide drinkable water
  • Find a proper place for us to sleep
  • Fix leakages in the grounds of the hospital
  • Manage hundreds of people - and their never ending complaints over everything
  • Fire people when needed
  • Figure out how to transport us to our patients (or the opposite) come hell or high water, which literally means hellish conditions and high floods
  • Build wards trying to please the doctors very optimistic requests
  • Build boxes to heat blankets and water bags for cold patients
  • Make them selves available when I call in the middle of the night to inform them that we don't have any electricity in the neonatal ward - where the babies kind of need the electricity driven oxygen machines...
  • Figure out how to manufacture clothes so that my babies can get skin to skin care in a muslim environment where skin isn't something you show - ever
  • Provide food
  • Make reasonable budgets where they see the bigger picture - and not only my irrational wish to use all the projects money on one case
  • Make new expats feel welcomed
  • Make the whole team feel safe - no matter how unsafe an environment you're in

And like I said, this is a fraction of what they do seen from the clueless doctors point of view. They do something hugely important for the community and are essential for any project. The thing is, I get why they sometimes might loose track of why they are doing what they are doing. I always say that sure, I have a hard job, calling the death of a child chips away at your heart, and they don't have to do that, but at the same time I get to see the effect of what everyone is working for. I get to discharge healthy kids and I get the thank you from the parents. I see first hand how important the effort that we've done together as a team has been, and that makes it easier for me to se the point of it all when things get dark. So I've tried to make sure that whenever possible the people not working directly with the patients get to come along and see what we're doing, see the tiny babies now sleeping in the cradles they've built, under the roof that's no longer leaking and having received the skin to skin care that's going to help them survive.

So here's to the Fins, Admins, Logs, HR's, FieldCo's, WatSan's and Supply's that make the projects go from elusive ideas to tangible walls and floors, you have my deepest respect and admiration. 


Feb 18, 2014

A newfound respect for life

Do you remember Ross's newfound respect for life after riding along in a police car? I've always thought it's a funny episode and he's hilarious with his newfound clarity and "carpe diem" mentality. It really makes fun of people that suddenly have found the "real" meaning of life, people you normally roll your eyes at as soon as they turn their backs.

It's been two months since I came back to "the real world". It's been an adjustment period, and I guess it still is, some things might never go back to the way they were, but most likely a lot will. In this period I've gone through a lot of different feelings, though they haven't all been good, the one that keeps popping back up is the feeling of just being happy and content. I don't remember the last time in my life when I felt that, content. Ok, so I must add that one of the first things that happened this year was that I got into my specialty - I'm going to be a pediatrician, a lifelong dream has just fallen into my lap, so that must be taken into consideration when I say I'm feeling content. 

Almost every day I come home, prepare dinner, do yoga and curl up on my couch with a book or an episode of a good show and this rush of happiness flows over me. I sit there with a big smile and contemplate how lucky I am, how wonderful my life is and how I can't understand how people let them selves get down over the small stuff. It's gotten to the extent of almost feeling a little bit like Ross, like I'm on some sort of high and that it's ridiculous to everyone around me. The thing is, I don't care. So what if people think I'm nuts? I've been to hell and back and I know that there are bigger tragedies than people thinking you're crazy. 

That being said I'm obviously not immune to being nervous, sad or scared - just now for example I'm debating with myself how to handle my first MSF presentation on Sunday. There's a story I want to tell, the story of Lahai, I feel really strongly about telling it, but so far I haven't been able to tell it, or even write it down without crying, and I don't want my voice to crack in front of a bunch of strangers. So yeah, I'm nervous, but the thing is, no matter how bad it goes, it's still not even going to come close to being as horrible as some of the other things I've been through. 

I guess it's like surviving being shot at (or in Ross's case, a car backfiring), you do find a new outlook on life and it does look and sound silly from the outside, but it's the most marvelous, liberating feeling in the world, from the inside.