Oh, there's no place like Foam

Sometimes it’s funny how things work out. The little things you do that end up making a huge difference. As she was getting ready before one of our cases yesterday, Amy was testing her anesthesia circuit. No problems. For some reason the thought came to her that maybe she ought to check it again. A little voice inside her head said, “You’re just freaking out, relax, it’ll be fine.” Nonetheless Amy tested her anesthesia circuit for the second time. Why, even now she couldn’t say exactly. As she did so a second time, a bunch of foamy bubbles spouted out from the machine into the tubes. Back home this would have essentially caused mass hysteria. That OR room would have shut down temporarily and all the cases booked for it would have gotten delayed or rerouted to other rooms while the anesthesia machine was cleaned out top to bottom. Here, we simply took some Q-tips & rubbing alcohol to the anesthesia machine…cleaned that puppy out real good, sent the circuit tubing back to get rinsed out again, and went on with business as usual. I mean, what else are you gonna do? It’s the only functioning anesthesia machine, and without it, well, no one would get operated on that day.

                During our first trip down in July 2010, about half the patients we saw in clinic and operated on in surgery were there because of the injuries caused by the January 12, 2010 earthquake, or because of complications thereof.  Over the next three trips, we’ve noticed successively fewer and fewer injuries related to the quake and more and more injuries that simply happen in the day to day life of a country of 9 million people and a city of a million. Kids falling while playing, people getting hit by cars and motorcycles. However, we have to remember that that earthquake killed about 250,000 people and injured another 250,000, though no one really knows how many, in a country with between 35 and 40 orthopaedic surgeons.. Let’s face it, for months, years, and probably decades to come, there are going to be a lot of people out there who’ve never gotten treatment. So it should really come as no surprise that a 63-year-old lady comes in with a left distal humerus fracture, her arm broken just above the elbow, never having seen a doctor since the injury. For the last year and 8 months she’s walked around with her arm flopping around completely uselessly.  She looks at me like I’m her knight in shining amour, because I’ve helped her into her wheelchair and into her bed a few times so far this week.  Despite her situation, she talks my ear off about this and that, holds my hand, and thanks me for adjusting her fan to keep her cool.  Let me take this time to remind all of you there is only A/C in the operating rooms (when the power is on), not in any of the patient rooms or wards.  Families tend to their own, providing them with food, drink, and in this case a fan.  This brings me to the long-term patient housing.  This is a separate building on the hospital grounds, having 5 beds, and a new armoire made of pine, for patients to keep their clothing.  In the bed closest to the door is Daphne, and 18 year old girl, who is cute and sweet as pie.  We took care of her heel the other day, and I went over to change her dressing.  Daphne’s bed is covered with soft floral print sheets, she has a new comforter, a silk pillow case with ruffles, stuffed animals, and an afghan all on her bed.  She’s wearing a nice nightgown, and is watching a movie on a portable DVD player.  The others are two men, each having on merely a pair of shorts, with a white hospital bed sheet.  It is apparent some have money, and some do not.  However, I was able to notice something in all three of these people, while Uno and I were there…without any of them speaking a word, I could see their appreciation, the gratitude in their eyes…the smile on each of their faces…a simple smile, letting me know each one was glad we were there.  That’s all we’re trying to do; make people smile.  Every now and then, I’m able to look down at the world, stretch out my legs, wiggle my toes and say to myself…”see Tom, life ain’t that bad, yer making people smile”.  Often life is conveyed as serious, complex, and difficult…but really, it can be so simple.  Make people smile.

I headed back to the main hospital, Uno in tow, and we slowly made our way upstairs to the volunteer area…beans & rice baby!  I saw Jay Leno (aka Nathan Lindsey) emerge from his room, where he’s been resting from being slightly ill, and having to see Pat and I for the fourth time in just over a year.  He reminds me of the hot sauce he’s got to kick the afternoon meal up a notch.  I would’ve accepted, however I had just taken my third breath, and well, the food was gone…breathe in, breathe out…breathe in, breathe out…food gone!

So I started drawing smiley faces on my mask, making balloons with faces out of exam gloves, to go along with the teeny Beanie Babies Beth’s sister gave her to bring down.  How much cuter can it get when a little one has a Beanie Baby in one hand, and chewing on a latex-free glove finger in the other…I’ve also taken a liking to room temperature Crystal Light it seems…when its 8pm, you’ve not had dinner yet, waiting for the next patient to be rolled on down, wearing a lead apron that’s at least 20 years old, and you’re sweating so much your arms are slipping off the keyboard…there’s nothing like putting some sweet 80 degree grape Crystal Light to your lips, and taking a big swig…heaven just arrived on earth…HEAVEN BABY! The only other thing that’s a little better, is when Pat steals some of Uno’s candy, and hides it in his backpack in the OR…then I eat all of it, but Pat still gets blamed for stealing…so much fun!