Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Dear Family & friends,
Well, tomorrow I’ll be 1/3 done. 33% is a big chunk. I’m in the groove. I understand how this organization “works.” It has peculiarities.
Actually, I work less here than I did in Florida. We have a meeting most mornings at 7 am, then rounds for about 45 min., then checking the patients who were admitted overnight. Some are in the “adult or pediatric overnight wards,” and others assigned to “overnight outside.” For example, if you break your leg at 9 am, and you hobble or are carried down the mountain over the next six hours, and then wait an hour to get your chart (or “dossier,” as they call it), and then see me who examines you and then orders “radiographie,” well, in that case, you’d be admitted to an overnight ward with no definitive treatment. You would get some pain medication, but not narcotic. No ice to the fracture. I wouldn’t see the x ray because, although the film might be taken, they process it by hand, and there’s no way they’d have it ready. The next day, I’d find the film and the patient, hopefully, not always, put them together and get Albert the cast man to put on the cast. Then, you’d spend another night in the hospital so that your cast could be checked the next day. (They had a child who was casted in August; the cast was too tight, circulation was lost, and the child ended up losing his forearm.)
I can call in staff at night, but it’s not done very often. I had a patient with ruptured appendicitis. Admitted at 6 pm, operated the next day. He did well.
A lot of the doctors complain about the nurses and their attitudes. I don’t say anything, but really, they’re no worse than Largo Medical Center. I used to wait around longer there. They move slowly, but they’re paid peanuts, and their working conditions are not good.
If you don’t find the patient, or if the nurse doesn’t give you the dossier, then you might not see the patient until the next day. This happened to me twice. They don’t call if you skip someone. There’s no telephone between the hospital and the doctors’ homes. Used to be. Fell into disrepair. They send a messenger who knocks on the door. He does not speak English. He carries a note written in French or Creole asking you to come “for better care.” Knocks and knocks sometimes. I always answer, no matter whom it’s for.
I found out last week that the chief of surgery, Christian Blanc, is leaving, permanently. Supposedly has a peach of a job with the International Red Cross. Now, he’ll be able to spend more time with his voluptuous girlfriend in Connecticut. He’s been here for four years. I can’t blame him for wanting to make a change. I just wonder, when he asked me to come down for 3 months, did he know then that he would be gone before I left? I don’t know, and I’m not going to ask him.
I’m on duty this weekend, alone in the surgery department. The other surgeon, Dr. Chauvet Exé, goes to Port-au-Prince every other weekend, to see his wife and family. The medical department has four members. Three of them, including most of the people in my House are going to the beach resort this weekend, Moulin-sur-mer. It's a beautiful place. Delicious fish. I was there in August. Unfortunately, Linda isn't interested.
