Saturday, December 13, 2008
Needles, lots of needles...
(Click Photo to Enlarge)
It had been a long busy summer in the cardiac operating rooms at the Vanderbilt Pediatric Heart Insitute. The practice picked up speed around April, as it usually does, and we headed into summer with a full load of cases to do each and every week. That's always a good thing. The "Tenwek Team" began having group planning meetings every month at first, and as the departure date got closer the meetings were coming every couple of weeks. That was a good thing too, since there was so much to prepare for.
Never having gone on a missions trip before, I have to say I had no idea what to expect. We were soon informed that Franklin Graham (Reverend Billy Graham's son) and Samaritan's Purse had an interest in our project and was communicating with Dr. Mike about all of the needs for our trip. That's when things started kicking into full gear.
Before I knew it, I was completely inundated with information and instructions for the trip. Our departure checklist started with what to do 6 to 12 months before we left the US. Unfortunately, I didn't get to it until 2 months before we left. There was information on what to pack, where to shop, what to buy, how many innoculations to get, I had to renew my passport because it had to be current for 6 months after our trip - of course mine expired 5 months after. There were forms to fill out and equipment to gather, lists to review, lists to generate, lists to read and still more lists to compare to one another. We had to have US dollars for customs in Nairobi, but the bills had to be newer than 2006 or they wouldn't be accepted. There was money of one denomination for the drivers from Nairobi to Tenwek and another denomination for the safari at the end of the trip.
Before I knew it I found myself wondering what I had gotten myself into, especially after I secured an appointment at the Vanderbilt travel clinic for my travel innoculations. I sat there trying to listen to everything that was being recited to me by the physician assistant from a CDC website as I frantically tried to figure out exactly how many times she was going to have to stick me with a needle (I know I'm supposed to be a professional health care worker and all, but I HATE needles). I was relieved to hear that a very small percentage of the people that get one of the innoculations that I was required to get (I couldn't keep any of them straight, I was still trying to count the potential needle sticks) would actually contract the disease from the innoculation, and 50% of those people would then die. OK, that just didn't sound right to me, so I asked her if I was understanding her correctly. She confirmed that my hearing was OK. At the expense of sounding like a wimp, I asked her if this might be too dangerous of a trip to be participating in, she responded, "Oh, you'll be OK".
Then she wanted to know what area of Africa I would be visiting. That was an easy one... Kenya! That's when it got difficult. She expected me to know the specific area of Kenya because malaria prophylaxis would be required at elevations below 5,000 to 6,000 feet. That's the first time I remember wishing I had paid more attention in 5th grade geography. I suddenly found myself looking around frantically for my wife, because she'd know the answer to that kind of thing. I usually don't have to pay attention to those kind of details, and I hadn't read that portion of the material that was mailed to me yet. Almost $600 and 5 shots later I was proud to say that I was protected against rabies, typhoid, Hepatitis A, meningitis and some other deadly disease (my wife would remember that if she was with me) and I would be ready to deal with the malaria infected mosquitoes head-on by taking my malaria prophylaxis daily for 45 days. Whew!
As I was walking out the door to the clinic, my nurse Judy informed me that I shouldn't be concerned if my upper arm should swell up to the size of a baseball and turn a brilliant shade of red. Just don't scratch it and it will be fine in 3 days! What a morning... and it was only 10 am.
It had been a long busy summer in the cardiac operating rooms at the Vanderbilt Pediatric Heart Insitute. The practice picked up speed around April, as it usually does, and we headed into summer with a full load of cases to do each and every week. That's always a good thing. The "Tenwek Team" began having group planning meetings every month at first, and as the departure date got closer the meetings were coming every couple of weeks. That was a good thing too, since there was so much to prepare for.
Never having gone on a missions trip before, I have to say I had no idea what to expect. We were soon informed that Franklin Graham (Reverend Billy Graham's son) and Samaritan's Purse had an interest in our project and was communicating with Dr. Mike about all of the needs for our trip. That's when things started kicking into full gear.
Before I knew it, I was completely inundated with information and instructions for the trip. Our departure checklist started with what to do 6 to 12 months before we left the US. Unfortunately, I didn't get to it until 2 months before we left. There was information on what to pack, where to shop, what to buy, how many innoculations to get, I had to renew my passport because it had to be current for 6 months after our trip - of course mine expired 5 months after. There were forms to fill out and equipment to gather, lists to review, lists to generate, lists to read and still more lists to compare to one another. We had to have US dollars for customs in Nairobi, but the bills had to be newer than 2006 or they wouldn't be accepted. There was money of one denomination for the drivers from Nairobi to Tenwek and another denomination for the safari at the end of the trip.
Before I knew it I found myself wondering what I had gotten myself into, especially after I secured an appointment at the Vanderbilt travel clinic for my travel innoculations. I sat there trying to listen to everything that was being recited to me by the physician assistant from a CDC website as I frantically tried to figure out exactly how many times she was going to have to stick me with a needle (I know I'm supposed to be a professional health care worker and all, but I HATE needles). I was relieved to hear that a very small percentage of the people that get one of the innoculations that I was required to get (I couldn't keep any of them straight, I was still trying to count the potential needle sticks) would actually contract the disease from the innoculation, and 50% of those people would then die. OK, that just didn't sound right to me, so I asked her if I was understanding her correctly. She confirmed that my hearing was OK. At the expense of sounding like a wimp, I asked her if this might be too dangerous of a trip to be participating in, she responded, "Oh, you'll be OK".
Then she wanted to know what area of Africa I would be visiting. That was an easy one... Kenya! That's when it got difficult. She expected me to know the specific area of Kenya because malaria prophylaxis would be required at elevations below 5,000 to 6,000 feet. That's the first time I remember wishing I had paid more attention in 5th grade geography. I suddenly found myself looking around frantically for my wife, because she'd know the answer to that kind of thing. I usually don't have to pay attention to those kind of details, and I hadn't read that portion of the material that was mailed to me yet. Almost $600 and 5 shots later I was proud to say that I was protected against rabies, typhoid, Hepatitis A, meningitis and some other deadly disease (my wife would remember that if she was with me) and I would be ready to deal with the malaria infected mosquitoes head-on by taking my malaria prophylaxis daily for 45 days. Whew!
As I was walking out the door to the clinic, my nurse Judy informed me that I shouldn't be concerned if my upper arm should swell up to the size of a baseball and turn a brilliant shade of red. Just don't scratch it and it will be fine in 3 days! What a morning... and it was only 10 am.
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1 comment:
How can I resist commenting on a photo of barbs? I love the subject matter.
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