So, little less than one month passed since I arrived, and I’ve
already been to….a local hospital. No worries – I’m all right! But apparently
you cannot get away from your medical history, even in Africa…
It all started with infected bug bites and a memory of my five-year
old self suffering from a blister on a left foot. We were on vacation, and my
parents were a bit worried. When a doctor examined me, he found a weird lymph
node abscess thing-y on my RIGHT leg. Anyway, being operated on in a
scary-looking room full of strange contraptions, being given the smelly
Vishenvskiy cream for a wound dressing, and being forced to stay in a hospital for
several weeks (!)made me a bit weary of hospitals and doctors. And now almost
the same freaking thing was happening in Africa! And the fact that I’m much
older than five doesn't help the matter.
When I saw the same weird lymph-y thing (why? what? how?) in
the gloom of my mosquito-netted room, I immediately told our PC doctors who
were training us on STDs (another lovely topic that we are having a blast
with). They took me to our main office in Accra to monitor me and send a request
to Washington so they would know how to proceed with this ailment of mine. Dr.
Sasha (who is Ukrainian, by the way) took me under his wing and explained the
strenuous process of a PC medical procedure, which requires a confirmation from
a main or regional PC medical center on the next steps. Because it was almost a
weekend, we did not get any response for 2 days. It was not too bad, as I
enjoyed my stay in Accra’s Osu expat neighborhood, where I slept in an
air-conditioned room, bought lovely batik fabric and even sampled some cheese
(a super-expensive treat!). Also, having free wi-fi sweetened the deal, and I could
catch up on my correspondence (and post a couple of blog entries, yay).
The real fun started on Monday... Dr. Sasha took me to a
local clinic where Dr. Wu (a Ghanaian with Chinese roots) examined me and promptly
told us that she would like to perform a surgery right away. What?? I was
honestly in shock. Then I was sent upstairs into an operating theatre (yikes!),
where I was put into a contraption that only very pregnant women use when they
are about to give birth. The army of nurses who kept calling me “Madame” poked
and prodded until my leg became numb (I refused to be given a general
anesthesia). Needless to say, the entire procedure was a bit traumatic: I felt
like my own five-year-old self in a unfamiliar room full of scary machines and
unfamiliar people in surgical masks, realizing that that my mom was not with me
L. Even though the
operation was over in about five minutes, I spent ten more minutes bawling in
the bathroom to get rid of the shock and unpleasant memories. All is cool now,
but some things can haunt you even decades after they are over…
To cheer me up, Dr. Sasha told me that it was a good thing I
was not operated somewhere in Sierra Leone (thanks!). All in all, Ghana has modern
facilities and great doctors (many of whom, by the way, were educated in Soviet
Union!). Still, this episode put a dent on my rigorous training schedule as I’m
missing tons of useful stuff. But my group misses me, and can’t wait for me to
return – isn't it sweet? I’m planning to splurge and bring them cheese – they will
definitely appreciate it!
