Throughout the last couple of months, I have had an incredible outpouring of support and generosity from the staff of the NICU back home.....so this post is for all of you!!! Before I left, you were all so supportive and I really didn't get a chance in all of the chaos of trying to move my life to Africa to say thank-you to the extent that I should have. I have always felt very welcomed and accepted in my role there, but, as I was preparing to leave, I was overwhelmed at the numerous ways in which so many of you gave of yourselves. In the midst of preparing for this adventure, which intimidated me more than I ever let on, you made me feel competant and capable. And, I am so thankful that your support didn't end there. I have loved so much hearing from everyone and what is going on. I knew pretty much from the start that working in the NICU meant that I had 100 mothers to watch over me, give me guidance, hold my hand, and tell me when I was going the wrong way. This whole thing has proven just how true that is. I can't even count the number of "be careful's" and "don't ever leave the boat's" and "If you fall in love, make sure he is willing to move here's" I heard before I left. As it turns out, I have not been able to honour ALL of your advice.....but I am giving it a solid effort (a girl's gotta have some sort of social life!)
I thought that, as a good distraction for you all while working nights (or in care-by-parent...) you might appreciate hearing about some of the "differences" between our health care system and the joys of working in Africa. I just finished my first evening shift all by myself, and already I have a list of favourite things about working in Africa. So many times, I have made myself laugh thinking about these things happening at home...
1. The family members of patients often stay with them while they are in the hospital. Obviously, there are no beds for them, so they put a mattress on the floor, and the parent / family member sleeps UNDER the bed of the patient. I was thinking that maybe this would be a good practice to incorporate into the NICU.
2. Space is a little bit of an issue, considering there are 4 OR's, 4 patient wards, an ICU, and lodging for the 400 staff all on one ship. This being the case, the beds are very close to one another. Sometimes, when you ask a patient when their last BM was, the patient beside will answer for them. So much for confidentiality!
3. Today, one of my patients was supposed to be discharged, but apparently when her aunt came to the gangway of the ship to pick her up, the guard told her that she wasn't allowed in until tomorrow, so she walked back home. By this time it was dark, and it just isn't safe to walk at night in Monrovia, so alas, the patient stays.
4. All of the healthcare staff live on the same deck as the hospital, so if you have to page a "consultant" at night at "home", they are literally about 30 steps away. Can you even imagine???
5. IV's run "fast" or "slow". That's it. At home, I would have a panic attack if I ran TPN 0.1mls/hr too fast for 12 hours.
I have a feeling this list may be a work in progress. The culture shock relating to health care alone is pretty dramatic. I am thinking that it has as much to do with the fact that I have never had a patient over 10 pounds, as the fact that I have never been a nurse in Africa. Overall though, I love it. As I think about the myriad of factors that are at play in my new African world, I would say that they have all "rocked my world" less than I was anticipating. Everything is obvioulsy different and strange, but deep down, I have this feeling that I was always meant to be in this strange world. I have a comfort and peace that really shouldn't be. I talked to my best friend the other night on the phone and she said to me "you really are doing ok, aren't you?", and I could genuinely & confidently say "yes". Which, I hope comforts your motherly hearts. Thanks for being wonderful!!!
posted by Jenn
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Throughout the last couple of months, I have had an incredible outpouring of support and generosity from the staff of the NICU back home.....so this post is for all of you!!! Before I left, you were all so supportive and I really didn't get a chance in all of the chaos of trying to move my life to Africa to say thank-you to the extent that I should have. I have always felt very welcomed and accepted in my role there, but, as I was preparing to leave, I was overwhelmed at the numerous ways in which so many of you gave of yourselves. In the midst of preparing for this adventure, which intimidated me more than I ever let on, you made me feel competant and capable. And, I am so thankful that your support didn't end there. I have loved so much hearing from everyone and what is going on. I knew pretty much from the start that working in the NICU meant that I had 100 mothers to watch over me, give me guidance, hold my hand, and tell me when I was going the wrong way. This whole thing has proven just how true that is. I can't even count the number of "be careful's" and "don't ever leave the boat's" and "If you fall in love, make sure he is willing to move here's" I heard before I left. As it turns out, I have not been able to honour ALL of your advice.....but I am giving it a solid effort (a girl's gotta have some sort of social life!)
I thought that, as a good distraction for you all while working nights (or in care-by-parent...) you might appreciate hearing about some of the "differences" between our health care system and the joys of working in Africa. I just finished my first evening shift all by myself, and already I have a list of favourite things about working in Africa. So many times, I have made myself laugh thinking about these things happening at home...
1. The family members of patients often stay with them while they are in the hospital. Obviously, there are no beds for them, so they put a mattress on the floor, and the parent / family member sleeps UNDER the bed of the patient. I was thinking that maybe this would be a good practice to incorporate into the NICU.
2. Space is a little bit of an issue, considering there are 4 OR's, 4 patient wards, an ICU, and lodging for the 400 staff all on one ship. This being the case, the beds are very close to one another. Sometimes, when you ask a patient when their last BM was, the patient beside will answer for them. So much for confidentiality!
3. Today, one of my patients was supposed to be discharged, but apparently when her aunt came to the gangway of the ship to pick her up, the guard told her that she wasn't allowed in until tomorrow, so she walked back home. By this time it was dark, and it just isn't safe to walk at night in Monrovia, so alas, the patient stays.
4. All of the healthcare staff live on the same deck as the hospital, so if you have to page a "consultant" at night at "home", they are literally about 30 steps away. Can you even imagine???
5. IV's run "fast" or "slow". That's it. At home, I would have a panic attack if I ran TPN 0.1mls/hr too fast for 12 hours.
I have a feeling this list may be a work in progress. The culture shock relating to health care alone is pretty dramatic. I am thinking that it has as much to do with the fact that I have never had a patient over 10 pounds, as the fact that I have never been a nurse in Africa. Overall though, I love it. As I think about the myriad of factors that are at play in my new African world, I would say that they have all "rocked my world" less than I was anticipating. Everything is obvioulsy different and strange, but deep down, I have this feeling that I was always meant to be in this strange world. I have a comfort and peace that really shouldn't be. I talked to my best friend the other night on the phone and she said to me "you really are doing ok, aren't you?", and I could genuinely & confidently say "yes". Which, I hope comforts your motherly hearts. Thanks for being wonderful!!!
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