This morning I had the leisure to organize the cardiac code meds in tidy groups, and line them on a wide shelf like soldiers in review. No code cart to fuss over. This will make them handy to reach for if someone arrives with, say, pulseless V Tach and no nurse...the former being infinitely more likely than the latter in this case.
There are two experienced paramedics on this compound, and one is also the PA who is orienting me before I leave for my own clinic. However, there is no guarantee we would all be at a given emergency at once, or in any given combination. It's a one PA clinic, just as mine will be when I get there. And as often as I have regaled our profession to whomever would listen, the truth is, we do have only two hands/ten manual digits. This is a chance to use all twelve parts with new found efficiency.
The PA at this clinic is a former special forces medic and has been key to my transition into this new world that blends the threat of sudden violence with the threat of protracted boredom. Meanwhile, I continue to treat the walking well, which is what I always do. There will always be the walking well, as certainly as the seasons change, with cold symptoms, sinus pain, sore throats, and muscle aches. It's just that here, I see as many in a day as I would see in an hour in Phoenix.
The time on my hands to dust off and organize code meds is a testament to the pace. The recognition that all the grocery stores and restaurants sell the same products is a testament to the spartan simplicity. The natural creation of a routine that falls naturally into place is a reminder that we are fundamentally looking for normalcy.
It feels good to have the absence of a thousand choices for every whimsical whim perceived as a need . Better yet, the paucity of choices includes the collateral loss of the extra, unnecessary things of overstuffed living: the chattering screensaver of our time, which is TV news, for instance. It's here, but to get to it I would need to walk to the other side of the compound.
Another example of clutter lost: vehicular traffic. Typically, you find your place in it and go - what else can you do? Here on this 1.5 acre, there is none. A convoy of three Suburbans going 15 mph constitutes traffic. I haven't heard the sound of a car horn or tires screeching since I've been here. Whether in central PHX or central Ranquitte, Haiti, the sounds that drivers and their cars make is expected and accepted as a part of life.
The little gym is a microcosm of the PHX downtown Y. It's in the same building where I live, eat, and work. I watch the sun come up while on the treadmill. The suns sets so early these days, I return in the dark for the second half of my workout after clinic.
Did I come to Iraq or to a monastery? It's so peaceful within these walls it would be difficult to remember what has gone on outside in the past. The people I work with have the paradoxical combined effect of being kind, pleasant, locked and loaded.
Personally, the simplicity is remarkably calming. I don't miss racket that can come with the daily carrousel of choices. It's true, I may be longing for a full team if I ever use those cardiac meds I had the leisure to organize, but until that time, I'll read the news online, and forget the sound of traffic entirely. I'll match the sun's timing as best I can in the morning, just as a Spartan or monk would, and not sleep away the best part of the new day....these new, more peaceful days in a country with war wounds.
There are two experienced paramedics on this compound, and one is also the PA who is orienting me before I leave for my own clinic. However, there is no guarantee we would all be at a given emergency at once, or in any given combination. It's a one PA clinic, just as mine will be when I get there. And as often as I have regaled our profession to whomever would listen, the truth is, we do have only two hands/ten manual digits. This is a chance to use all twelve parts with new found efficiency.
The PA at this clinic is a former special forces medic and has been key to my transition into this new world that blends the threat of sudden violence with the threat of protracted boredom. Meanwhile, I continue to treat the walking well, which is what I always do. There will always be the walking well, as certainly as the seasons change, with cold symptoms, sinus pain, sore throats, and muscle aches. It's just that here, I see as many in a day as I would see in an hour in Phoenix.
The time on my hands to dust off and organize code meds is a testament to the pace. The recognition that all the grocery stores and restaurants sell the same products is a testament to the spartan simplicity. The natural creation of a routine that falls naturally into place is a reminder that we are fundamentally looking for normalcy.
It feels good to have the absence of a thousand choices for every whimsical whim perceived as a need . Better yet, the paucity of choices includes the collateral loss of the extra, unnecessary things of overstuffed living: the chattering screensaver of our time, which is TV news, for instance. It's here, but to get to it I would need to walk to the other side of the compound.
Another example of clutter lost: vehicular traffic. Typically, you find your place in it and go - what else can you do? Here on this 1.5 acre, there is none. A convoy of three Suburbans going 15 mph constitutes traffic. I haven't heard the sound of a car horn or tires screeching since I've been here. Whether in central PHX or central Ranquitte, Haiti, the sounds that drivers and their cars make is expected and accepted as a part of life.
The little gym is a microcosm of the PHX downtown Y. It's in the same building where I live, eat, and work. I watch the sun come up while on the treadmill. The suns sets so early these days, I return in the dark for the second half of my workout after clinic.
Did I come to Iraq or to a monastery? It's so peaceful within these walls it would be difficult to remember what has gone on outside in the past. The people I work with have the paradoxical combined effect of being kind, pleasant, locked and loaded.
Personally, the simplicity is remarkably calming. I don't miss racket that can come with the daily carrousel of choices. It's true, I may be longing for a full team if I ever use those cardiac meds I had the leisure to organize, but until that time, I'll read the news online, and forget the sound of traffic entirely. I'll match the sun's timing as best I can in the morning, just as a Spartan or monk would, and not sleep away the best part of the new day....these new, more peaceful days in a country with war wounds.
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