Tuesday, November 9, 2010

And then...

... Andile came to pick me up.  But, not before there was some fun drama about her car not starting, that I was later to find out was because she had run down her battery the night before blasting music from her car while partying at her house.  Way to go Andi.  That little anecdote in and of itself pretty much sums up Andile.  She loves to party, is slightly reckless, but things always work out in her favor, because basically she has a deal with the devil.  Yeah, that's right.  Not only was she able to get her car started with a little help, the guy thought she was cute and so didn't charge her because she agreed to call him the next day.  Way to go Andi.  Did she learn anything from this experience?  Like how she probably shouldn't use her car as a sound system?  Nope, probably not.  And that's Andile.  The world is her oyster and she definitely takes the bull by the horns.  How many idioms can I use to describe this girl?  Andile is one of our social workers at Mpilonhle (on some level, a funny job for someone of her character) and also one of my closest friends here, always inviting me to come along and guaranteeing a good time (you might remember her from the umemulo or 21st birthday party she brought me to).  And she always takes care of me, checking up on me, having answers to all my questions, and looking out for me, for example. she is the one that came all the way up to the farm and surprised me with a cake on my birthday.  What an amazing friend!  And it's nice to have someone with her qualities on your side. :)
You may also remember Andile from her ghetto fabulous moment with Team Paramount
This Saturday we were off to Richards Bay to a basketball tournament that Andile was playing in.  It was fun to be around basketball.  As much as I love soccer, basketball is my first love.  I even got to shoot some hoops myself which was really fun.  And they were bumping some awesome hip-hop which was supes cool.  We also did a lot of driving /errands, like ice and alcohol runs.  Aka, welcome to Africa, and lots and lots of driving.  Just when things were heating up in the tournament, the rain came.  Boo!  I can't complain too much though because while they figured out the next move for the tournament, there was a badass freestyle battle.  No, I did not participate.  I didn't want to steal all the glory with my mad skills. :)

Just as Andile and I were about to peace, they made moves to transfer the tournament to an indoor gym.  Next thing I know, we were on the road again, this time to the University of Kwazulu-Natal's gym.  We got there in time to watch an awesome boys game between a local under 25 team and their opponents from Swaziland (the Swazis are the ones with swanky uniforms).






Between games I was introduced to a "nice guy" they were trying to set me up with.  And as lovely as he was (he was actually the nicest and most polite guy I've met here), he insisted on distracting me from the girls' game which Andile was playing in, and was the actual reason for my presence.  Well, they ended up getting smashed by the Swazi team, so it might of been a blessing I didn't have to watch the massacre.  I was able to get a couple shots:
The team.  I won't identify my patient for the sake of confidentiality. :)

But, just as the game was ending, literally with like four seconds to go, I hear the guy say "Oooph, she looks hurt," looking past me.  I of course was looking the other way, trying to stay engaged in the conversation, and therefore missed the entire thing.  I look back and see a girl down.  My new buddy, who recently learned I was a medical student, suggested "Should you go down there?", to which I responded, "No, no.  They will get me if they need me..."  And then... no more than five seconds later... "Jess, Jess, come here!".  Oh great.  I quickly moved my way through the crowd and down to the floor to whispers of "Who's a doctor?  Oh!  She's a doctor?!  Oh.  She's a doctor."  I get down there to people claiming her shoulder is dislocated.  Great.  Musculoskeletal.  My favorite.  In my quick initial assessment I conclude that she isn't going to die, but is in some major pain and some shock from the whole event.  I decide to move her out of the gym and the hub-bub of the crowd, which was easier said then done, being as this was an African gym and under construction, so it was a little bit of a hike with some obstacles.  When we finally got her out into the fresh air I was able to convince myself it wasn't dislocated, but with some limited range of motion, she could of potentially torn something, like her rotator cuff.  The major challenge to the assessment was the patient's distress.  She was pretty much wigging out to the point that I was afraid she was going to hyperventilate herself.  I tried to get her to do some breathing exercises with some success.  I felt secure that she didn't need to go a hospital that second and could last the night with some ibuprofen (which I popped her 800 mg of), ice and some rest.  But, her sister, Andile's good friend, was pretty shaken up by the whole situation and opted to go to the clinic.  Probably not a bad idea being as the one thing she said that concerned me was that her arm felt tingly, making me think it was possible that she could of dislocated it and re-located it, pinching a nerve.  So, off we went to the clinic, Andile driving, and me and the sister supporting the patient, which was more reassurance than anything.  Poor girly, she was just scared and in pain.

Now we were on a hunt for an open clinic at 6:30 pm on a Saturday, not an easy feat in rural South Africa.  We had a couple hits and misses and ended up at a strip mall with me more than confused.  Apparently we were heading to a clinic in the back of a local pharmacy.  Sounded less than promising to me when looking at this poor girl in pain, which was an accurate assumption.  All the other patients waiting let us move to the front of the line after they saw our poor patient.  The nurse took one look at her, tried to move her arm an inch, which was received by a bawl, and immediately directed us to the hospital.  So, we called the ambulance.  This is another new concept for me.  Apparently whenever you need a ride to the hospital, urgent or not, you call the ambulance.  The nurse expressed her concern to me that the ambulance was going to be a long wait, over a half an hour.  Half an hour?!  Seriously?!  I convinced the crowd that we should transport ourselves in some manner to the hospital.  So back in the car, with a snack on the way, and up to the government hospital.

Man, the government hospital was a trip.  The first patient we saw when we walked in was a guy standing up, covered in blood, holding an IV bag he was hooked up to, with a giant bandage over his eye.  God, what I wouldn't of given to see what was under that bandage.  It was nice to pass the patient off to more competent care, especially being as I really had no idea what was going on other than I knew she wasn't dying.  Yay!  Go me!  Throughout the entire process I kept reminding them "Now, let's all remember, I'm a STUDENT doctor, not a real doctor."  Anyways, once she was in the waiting room and being triaged I had a chance to check out the scene.  Urgent care on a Saturday night in a South African government hospital in a township is gnarly shit my friends.  People are SICK.  The waiting room is full of people, many lying on stretchers, looking less than stable.  Even the stab victims that come in are triaged in the waiting room like the rest of the people to determine if they are worthy to be rolled back to the treatment area.  We saw a couple super gnarly stab victims roll in, one in the neck, shaking, going into shock, and another a few minutes after, literally stabbed in the back, postured, potentially already dead.  We later found out they had actually stabbed each other explaining why the police showed up soon after.  They were both brought in by their respective family/friends, so lots of drama.  The government hospital is a hopping spot on a Saturday night, with the number of visitors/supporters growing all the time.  I do have to say that all of it made me realize how much I miss the hospital, especially when we saw the stab victims and all I wanted to do was go back with them and stitch them up, while Andile was thoroughly grossed out.

Eventually we received good news: no dislocation, no breaks, nothing urgent, tears still a potential, but at this point just drugged up nice and good (her tingling went away once she was sedated by the drugs, probably just a combo of hyperventilation and initial shock).  After the relief set in, so did the exhaustion.  All plans to go clubbing that night were out the window.  Now we just had to regroup to get ourselves home.  This meant dropping off our patient and her sister and getting our crew together, which included a lot more driving and searching some local bars in the now deserted town.  Nope, not sketchy at all, not at all.  We all stayed at the farm that night and pretty much passed out when we got home.

By the time I woke up at eight the next morning and everybody was already drinking, clearly the consensus was that we were going to make up for the day before.  This included a trip to the shisa nyama (an ingenious idea that I will explain later- basically it just combines the best things in the world- meat, bread, and beer), and spending the afternoon drinking, listening to music, and shooting the shit in St. Lucia with the crew.  This of course included the classic Zulu components of a lot of driving and a lot of waiting in parking lots, another MSK injury that I had to regulate on, and my fill of drunk Zulu men for a while, all just adding to the experience of the weekend.  But, overall, it was a good time and definitely much needed after the drama from the day before.

So, in conclusion: Andile is amazingly awesome and there is no one else I would rather experience ridiculous unplanned adventures with! :)  Thanks for all the story making moments this weekend Andi!  Heart you!  And hope you guys enjoyed this very long winded story. :)

No comments:

Post a Comment