Tuesday, March 31, 2009

March Madness

[disclaimer: I'm too tired to proof and edit]
 
Lucky died. That's the news I received today, when I went back to work--a day early. I was sitting around my house this morning, feeling discombobulated, with an unstructured schedule for so long that I stared at a pile of paperwork, and just decided that I needed to get back to work. So I showed up to the tea room, and there ran into AK (head of ID) and we headed off to start rounding. It turned out to be a stellar Grand Round. We reviewed patients who have differential diagnoses of cysticercosis, hydatid cysts in the liver, and other conditions, which quite honestly I haven't even though of since I was a medical student sitting in a tropical medicine course. It was fascinating stuff, and a part of my brain which has largely been resting, jumped up and was enthused to resume its cerebral functions.
 
As we were walking between wards, I pulled out my sheet of patients whom I had handed off to my colleagues a month ago, and asked them how these patients had done. And that's when I found out Lucky had died. Was it shocking to hear? No, I didn't think he would survive. But also yes-because I was rooting for him. I had some hope that he would make it. The last thing I did at Bara in Feb was to go to his bedside and be with him. I couldn't shake our last conversation and interaction. On the third day of my Kilimanjaro trek, I sat outside the dining tent in the afternoon, sipping tea, and wrote about that final encounter with Lucky. Shaking his bony hand, telling him I'd see him in clinic when I got back, seeing the fear in his eyes, I walked away knowing that I would never see him again. But hearing that he had passed today, still left me disappointed. I will say, that he lived for 2 more weeks in the hospital after I left.
 
JC is well. 5 Days ago, as I was having my morning coffee in Clarens, before driving into Lesotho and losing phone reception, I got a text message from JC. He told me that he's gained 5 Kgs (10 pounds), and that "you won't recognize me when you get back." And sitting there, in the beautiful town of Clarens, I felt perhaps one of the most moving victories thus far, in my time here in SA, but also in my short time as a doctor. He is going to make it. This man who fled his home after organizing protests against a tyrannical government, who sold handmade crafts, who was a professional teacher, and who was neglected for 6 months in a clinic is getting better, and is going to live. And honestly, it floored me that he sent me a text message, to let me know he is better.
 
Even on vacation, I found myself drawn to my work here. On the trails of kili, drinking coffee in Ethiopia, clubbing in Cape Town, I felt guilty knowing that the clinic at Bara was still going, swamped by patients. And even more, my patients were on my mind regularly. So today, much to the wonder of those at work, and those here, I showed up to work early. I was done playing, and ready to get back to business.
 
I provide you now, with a report of the March Madness:
 
 
Kilimanjaro:
There were two definite "to do" things on my list for the year that I am spending in this part of the world. One was to visit Victoria Falls-done. Two, climb Kilimanjaro.  I will confess, that I'm not sure how I came about the decision to do these. Vic Falls, due purely, in part, to see the spectacular falls themselves. But Kili?? Maybe it was when I heard a fellow intern talk about his conquering Kili a few years back. This is also where I confess, that while I knew Kili was the highest point in Africa (5895 meters), up until a few months before I didn't know much else. When I booked my trip a few months back, I didn't even look into all the different route and what were the pros and cons, but rather I popped into my local outdoor guru shop, and asked them which route they thought was best. And that's how I ended up doing the Rongai Route- which is a more direct, less used approach, and is suppose to be pretty challenging.
 
After my good fortune of trekking in Nepal-where I carried my own pack, I felt pretty confident that I'd make it to the top. Which I did. [Insert Robert Persig quote: about the side of a mountain sustaining life, not the top].
 
I stood on the summit of Kili at just after 5am. It was pitch dark, and reported to be -30C. Ideally, the summit time should happen at sunrise, which is closer to 6:30am. People talk about the beauty of the sunrise. But I'm more of a sunset fan, so not seeing the sunrise wasn't an issue. What was an issue was that it was too cold to stay at the top for more than 10 minutes. All 6 layers that I had on-thermals, fleece, down, wind stoppers, weren't enough to insulate me against the cold, and my guide would have been happy to leave after one photo shot and 20 seconds. So, the major disappointment was completely missing the view from the top, and missing the view of the glacier etc. There is a small stoke of the ego, knowing that I was the first to summit Kili on that day, and it was mildly entertaining to hear my fellow climbers tell me later that day how discouraging it was to see my headlamp so far up the mountain. But little did they know, I envied that they really got to marvel the experience being at the top of Africa.
 
The trek was plagued with issues... My tent leaked. So much so, that one night as water accumulated in it (during a viscous storm which turned to snow around 2am), I actually put my down sleeping bag and as much gear as possible in my water proof pack cover, and then tried to sleep for a few hours on my sleeping pad-which I imaged was going to double as a water bed by morning. My guide was mediocre. The cook was a nice guy, constantly stoned, and who actually served me batter and friend bread-more than once. I contribute my need for antibiotics directly to his level of pot usage, in thinking that he was too stoned to boil my water properly, and the murky "pond" that we got water from for 3 days had plenty of organism swimming around in the water, and then my GI tract to make the last few days of the trip somewhat less than ideal hiking conditions. I had never experienced such drastic windburn.. and for days was unable to smile because I was afraid my lips/cheeks/chin would crack and that my face would fall off in parts. But the nice thing was, we all suffered together.
 
In the end, I'm glad I climbed Kili. I learned some valuable lessons: check out the trekking company thoroughly, take my own tent, make sure I treat my own water (which I did 75% of the time given my lack of confidence in stoner cook). I do feel slightly cheated, and if somebody wants to climb Kili.... let me know.  I arrived back and had a day to run errands, and then it was off to Ethiopia.
 
Ethiopia:
Ethiopia was somewhat random. A while back, a friend called me to tell me that she was adopting a child in Ethiopia-which had been in the works for a while, but that now she was matched with a child. When I heard her dates for being in Addis Ababa, it worked perfectly into my schedule, and so I quickly booked a ticket. This I knew: Ethiopia is the HOME OF COFFEE, and the home of LUCY. Fantastic.
 
What struck me most about Ethiopia, was reading about the history before I even got on the plane. I confess, that the only history I usually know of a country is that is provided in Lonely Planet. In fact, I think that there should be World History courses taught entirely by what is written in Lonely Planet. Really, you don't need to know more that what can be summarized into a few pages. My attention to world history details is short enough that I may wonder if I have ADD.. but usually I figure that all of that stuff is in the past, and largely irrelevant to my purposes. But for some reason, when reading the history of Ethiopia, I took notes in the margin, remembered the names of rulers, and felt like I hit the ground with a better knowledge than I mage have of, oh say, American history.
 
My first impression was, I have to admit, dark. But that is because it was nighttime. My friend met me at the airport, and we made our way to the guest house, where we chatted and I was brought up to speed on how the child was doing. Suffice to say, I've been privilege enough to review the medical information provided, including issues pertaining to some more recent medical issues. We strategized a plan for the following day, and the week that I'd be there.
 
My second impression was not much better. Largely because I found the coffee served at breakfast in the guest house to be uninspiring, and the portion of scrambled eggs barely enough to feed a school child.  I made a mental note to get a real breakfast every morning elsewhere.
 
And then we arrived at the orphanage. It's been very insightful to see, second hand, what the adoption process has entailed-on all levels. What prospective parents must endure, how the process is actually conducted, and as well as all the factors that play into international adoptions. And then I saw the orphanage. I confess, that the pediatrician in me cringed at how crowded it was. But it was evident that the children were adequately taken care of, and that the place was dealing as best as it could. I couldn't help by watch/hold/play with infants assessing their development, looking for the subtle signs of HIV etc. I enjoyed meeting my friends future son, but decided I wasn't going to need to revisit the orphanage daily.
 
As for Addis.. It was refreshing to walk around a city. Walk and walk and walk-the best way to experience a new city. It's a bustling city. It's fairly well developed, though that being said, the major roads are tarred, but the side roads are dirt roads which have pocket marks which can engulf small cars and children. Riding by taxi is challenging. What caught me off guard, though, was the amount and persistent of inner city poor, who at times literally lined sidewalks patiently waiting for handouts, by which to survive. I feel fairly seasoned at travelling these days, and have been in resource poor areas for a while now, but the sheer volume, and at times the level of aggressions for handouts did wear on me by the end of the trip. I was taken aback by the number of adult polio survivors who limped around the city. I felt like the "Ugly American" in that at times all I could do was to keep on my sunglasses, look straight ahead, and not even acknowledge the pleas that grabbed my pants or hands looking for assistance. But, the people were pleasant. The stores were interesting. The markets were great. Even Merkato-the main market which is suppose to be known for tourist scams and pickpockets was easily navigated and explored.
 
As for the coffee. Holy shit. Mecca. Wow. Now, don't get me wrong, not every cup was a heavenly blissful feast for the palate... but most were. Coffee is espresso style, macchiato style. Shots. Short and sweet. I buzzed from café to café and silently thanked the powers that be that I was paying 20 to 30 US CENTS per cup of pleasure. But I made it a goal to seek out some variety, and hunt for the best cup. And I have to say, that the bible of travel, Lonely Planet, has nailed it. Tomoca is the most nondescript coffee house I've ever seen, well, aside from the aroma literally hemorrhaging out the door from the coffee roasting going on in back. So, I was skeptical that LP had rally found the best coffee in Addis. But they had. And the locals in the shop swore that it was the best cup to be had in the city.
 
As for Lucy... the famous Australopithecus aferensis skeleton found in 1974. She is the most complete human ancestor, and stood 3.2 meters. I'd learned about Lucy back in undergrad antho/archaeology courses, so to be able to see the museum where she now rested was pretty cool. Except that she is housed in the basement level, in a room with bad lighting, no windows, and worn carpet. Now very posh. (The the real Lucy is not on display).
 
My friend and I took a quick flight to Bahar Dar, which is situated on Lake Tana, almost 600 km NW of Addis. Ask me sometime how we scored very cheap flight tickets- you can negotiate for anything sometimes. Lake Tana is famous for some 22 island monasteries, so we had to visit. I was hoping to meet a nice young monk to settle down with.. Of course, this isn't funny given that Ethiopia is one of the most homophobic countries in the world.. But I was open to the possibility or living on a lake. We left Addis at like 7am, and were on the lake by 9:30 am. Saw a few monasteries. And then just past noon we were in a van headed for Gondeor, which was 3 hours north of Bahar Dar. Gondeor was the capital of Ethiopia circa 1620, and has some amazing old castles. And during our 2.5 hour van ride back, the driver tried to scam us for some money which he had planned to use to buy chat/khat, a mild hallucinogenic plant that you chew.. He did end up buying Khat a little while later (not with our money) and then seemed genuinely shocked when we protested that he wasn't going to be chewing any Khat while driving us. We eventually made it back to Bahar Dar and checked into a hotel. It was a day of flying, boat trip, and 6 hours in a van-I travel hard!
 
More to Ethiopia... I covered Addis Ababa. But there is so much more to Ethiopia.. I'm thinking I'll need to go back, with a month to spare, and money to hire a 4WD and driver and go for 2-4 weeks and explore the area more.
 
On the flight back to Jo'burg, I was shattered. It had been early mornings, up late caffeine fueled exploration. And in Jo'burg, Kevin was exploring the worst neighborhoods awaiting for me to touch down so that we could hang out. The minute we re-united in Jo'burg (not in the CBD where he was spending his tourist time), the fatigue disappeared and we jumped into a frenzied conversation to catch each other up on the going-ons of the past few weeks.
 
Cape Town: What happens in Cape Town...
The departure for Cape Town set the tone. We were delayed for hours. And were booked on 4 different flights. Yet, we were on holiday, had no agenda, and no plans (other than to arrive, pick up the rental car, and wait for Lorcan to arrive). We literally laughed and entertained ourselves for the hours we were delayed. I'm sure our fellow passengers though we'd been drinking most of the morning, I mean who the hell laughs and has fun while getting delayed to head to Cape Town. That was us.
 
Cape Town. Rented BMW. We're going to be the classy gays. Irish Doctor. American Doctor. Irish consultant. We're here to let loose and enjoy life, in the beautiful surroundings of Cape Town. Clubbing til morning. Late start to the next day. Taking the tram to the top of Table Mountain. Walking for hours, having a confession about the night before, having a confession about life in general, making plans for the next few hours, making plans for the next few days, and making plans for the next few years. The Irish head to an Irish pub to join their fellow Paddies watching Ireland gloriously take the 6 Nations Title, while I sit on my balcony watching the sunset in Cape Town, listening to my ipod, lost in thought. Another night out, but not til the early morning. And then a real Sunday Cruise, to Cape Good Hope-the southern point of SA. The night retired at an Indian restaurant sitting outside at Camp's Bay. Monday entering the wine lands, and having lunch in Franshhoek. Seeing Lorcan off at the airport. Checking into our new boutique hotel for the night. Immediately being met in the hotel by an American, from Denver. We escape for dinner, and walk for hours, returning to the hotel to spend a few hours talking to other hotel guests, all of us sitting around drinking wine. And then departure day. Sitting in Cape Town airport, the departure gate symbolizing the end to this 5 days of fun. 5 days of nothing but pure enjoyment. Wine. Clubbing. Luxury hotels. a BMW. Ice-cream (even for breakfast one day).
 
Lesotho:
The plan had been to rent a 4WD and cruise around Lesotho for 4 or 5 days. I arrive back in JHB, get back to my apartment, which feels cold and empty after the sun and friendship of Cape Town. No point in wasting time. I leave in the morning, but know that I'm going to shorten plans. I'm disconnected. On the plane back to JHB, I think of the calls I want to make, people I want to check in with, and then also the realistic commitments which I'm letting slide.. a pediatric case report which I wanted to have written last month, my research here at Bara, a growing list of topics of things I'm reviewing. So I cut this trip short. I spend a great day in Clarens. I zoom down, check into my B&B-which is so gorgeous, with a plus king size bed, and a balcony overlooking the town square that I ponder just spending all day in the room reading, with short jaunts to get coffee. But, I have business to complete here. I was cheated out of hiking the last time I was here, a day of hiking cut short by helping an injured hiker be rescued from the mountain. I ditch my bag in the room, fill my water bottle, and am on the trail. 4 hours. Not another single hiker. Along the ridge as the afternoon starts to end, I'm watching herds of springbok and blesbok run in the meadows below. Why didn't I just bring a tent? I force myself to leave, thinking that the trail will not be forgiving to attempt in the dark.
 
It is the next morning that I get a text message from JC. I cross the border, and make my way to the town where I'll stay for the night. If it weren't for the meeting I have, I may have been tempted to just stay in Clarens. I explore a bit, wondering what my options are. I'm thankful that there is plenty of time to decide what the hell I'll do when I grow up, but this is on the list.
 
I'm back in my own bed.
I am back home.
 
I.
Am.
Back.
Home.
 
I am aware that I arrive back home, exactly 3 months to the day of when I will have left this home, and arrive back in the US. I've spent the past 6 hours listening to music, driving on the N3, trying to recall what it was like 3 months before I left my Colorado home, 3 months before I left my Dublin home, 3 months before I left my Massachusetts home. This is the first time I am leaving one home, to go back to another, and that give a coating of sweetness, to appreciate the reunion with those back home. It'll be a coating of sweetness which may take away the bitterness of leaving Jo'burg. 
 
And now...
It's back to reality. Work. Life. Future. Taxes. Things that were on hold for the past month...
 
I have pictures posted: follow the link over there ->

Monday, March 30, 2009

Hiatus Ending soon

March Madness
 
4 trips
4 countries
10 flights
1 mountain summit
2 courses of antibiotics
Sunburn/windburn/frostbite
New friends
 
Details to follow.... Hopefully on April 1. (no joke)
 
Thanks,
Brian

Thursday, March 19, 2009

So who will have the nerve... ?

Brian you are a terribly hard act to follow... and your blog remains forlornly absent of input from the rest of us...your writings have enriched the lives of those who follow your travels and share, through your words and eyes, a glimpse into a world which is fascinating, colorful, heartbreakingly sad, often very unjust, and yet at times graced with humor and smiles. You appreciation of the beauty of the individuals, of their world so distant, both allows those of us so far away a very intimate glimpse...and challenges us to do something about the plight of our fellow human beings-- and i suspect you indeed will motivate others now and in the future to take a stand, to reach out and ACT ...
Thank you Brian... keep writing .. we await the next chapter.. ...
Abrazos--
David