Tag Archives: exchange student

Shant-outings*

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*Thanks to Joshua for the oh-so-punny title

As mentioned previously, Shantou is tucked into the coastline of the South China Sea, making it the perfect jumping off point for day trips to the numerous surrounding islands. On our first weekend in China, myself and the other Canadian exchange students took the ferry for 1 yuan (~20 cents) across the Shantou Harbour and landed on the idyllic shores of Queshi island. We were greeted by a woman expertly dissecting pineapples with a machete and neatly skewering the slices onto long skewers. An entire pineapple for 7¥ ($1.5) seemed a reasonable price to pay for a snack as we walked along the island’s meandering paths.

View of Queshi from the Shantou side of the sea

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Our goal was the pagoda we had seen every morning we walked along our side of the harbour. On our way up the mountain, we explored a series of naturally formed granite caverns with such enchanting names as “Rainbow Lying Cave,” “Happy Fate Cave,” “God’s Shoe,” “The Platform for Watching Sight of Flame Mount,” and “Three-Tier Cave Toilet” (on second thought, maybe that last one was 2 separate stops…)

View of Shantou from the Queshi side of the sea! 

Terrifyingly steep steps into the caves!

Lovely lunchtime stop
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Giant Buddha (only after an entire photo sesh with G.B. did we realise we had been sitting in front of a sign that read, in Chinese, that pictures cost 2¥ each… and consequently a terrifying encounter with the giant security guard ensued)

After eating lunch in the pagoda at the mountain peak and paying our respects to giant Buddha back down on the ground, we headed back to the ferry. Before we had even landed back on mainland, we were already receiving WeChats from our host students, inviting us out for an evening of quintessential Chinese cultural fun: KTV.

KTV (aka karaoke) is more than just a past time in China… it’s practically an art form. Whole streets are lined with massive KTV buildings, each hosting a multitude of private rooms where groups can order food & drinks and custom-create a karaoke setlist of K-Pop and the newest Swifty singles. At KTV, the most stoic and shy of students suddenly comes into their own and discovers their latent pop stardom, belting out sexy ballads with no restraint or reserve whatsoever!

Post-KTV, we were up bright and early to board the bus taking us to a village about 2 hours from Shantou. Interestingly enough for a self-declared Communist country, healthcare is not publicly funded in China, and therefore many citizens cannot afford basic medications or even a simple doctor’s visit. Thanks to Guangdong-born Hong Kong billionaire philanthropist, the Li Ka-Shing foundation has instituted numerous charitable works to address health inequities across the country, including the one we were participating in that morning – Medical Aid for the Poor (MAP). Once a month, MAP physicians set up free clinics in villages near Shantou, providing free medications, blood pressure readings, and specialist consults. They also provide home visits for any rural citizens unable to transport themselves to the clinic.

My lunch at MAP won the honour of being the most interesting food I have ever eaten to date: I was so proud of myself initially for trying what I was convinced was liver, since I had never had that before. But when I checked in with my Chinese friend, she blithely corrected me: “Oh no, those are blood clots. Maybe pig? Probably dog.”

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Home visits & tour of the village temple

Since we were spending so much time in “small town” China (remember that Shantou’s population is a mere 5 million), we thought we should grab the chance to see big city China at its most iconic: Hong Kong.

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For being so close to Shantou, it was a headache and a half to actually make our way to HKSAR. A chartered car, a bullet train, a subway, a walk through two sets of customs, and another subway later, we were finally in our Hong Kong home for the weekend – an itty bitty hostel room on the 14th floor. The rule was that some part of each person had to be touching their bunk at all times, otherwise there was not enough space for us all in the room!

Hong Kong had some noteworthy features: milk tea, pork floss toast, the mind-blowing bus ride up to Victoria Peak (call me small town, but I have never seen buildings rising up higher than the surrounding mountains!!), and the hilarious experience of finding our way up to the “Highest Bar in the World” and negotiating with the hostesses and fellow patrons for rented pants so our male compatriots could actually enter the bar (because apparently, while shorts are incredibly offensive and inappropriate, ankle-skimming polyester gems passed around to 3 different gentleman in 1 hour are far, far more acceptable). However, in general, I do not feel the need to go back to HKSAR. I feel so privileged to have spent the majority of my time in “small town” China that actually felt unique, and not simply like a crowded version of any forgettable kitschy American town.

Buildings, buildings everywhere…

The day after arriving back in Shantou from HKSAR, we were again packed into a bus, this time to trek several hours to Nan’ao island, where we spent a lazy day hiking up to yet more pagodas, watching our bus driver carve roast chicken with his bare hands, and getting yelled at by locals for daring to swim in the ocean (apparently, that’s just not done).

All in all, our Shant”outings” made an already memorable exchange even more extraordinary. And after three weeks of this, I still had a week of true holidays left…
(To be continued!)

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Barefoot to White Coat

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Having returned from my three months of out-of-province electives, I settled back into the swing of things at home… at least for the next two months 😉 I was at home just long enough to do some CaRMS interviews for my upcoming residency specialty training, complete my final undergraduate OSCE (a lengthy clinical exam with actors pretending to be patients suffering from a variety of weird and wonderful ailments), and spend an incredible month working with the Program of Assertive Community Treatment (aka PACT), a service provided at home to individuals with severe and persistent mental illness, helping them stay out of hospital and maintain their independence in the community.

March 1 was Match Day, the day where medical students all across the country are informed which specialty program they have been accepted into; or in other words, the day we find out what type of medicine we will be practicing for the rest of our careers. I was beyond thrilled to match to my first choice of Family Medicine – Northern-Remote stream, a specialized Family Med program designed to address inequities in access and quality of healthcare for Canadians living in rural and remote areas, particularly those of Indigenous descent. While every Family Med program across Canada offers excellent medical training, I was drawn to the Northern-Remote stream for its unique decolonizing vision and immense scope of practice. And now, as of July 1, I will be a member of its team!!

“Plan B” theme party on Match Day Eve – Joshua and I showed up as WWOOFers, to nobody’s surprise!

Match Day!!

Even after some epic Match Day celebrations, the adventures were not over! Two days after the Match, I boarded a plane along with three other med students, and two days after that, we landed in Shantou, China, a “small town” of only 5 million people in the Guangdong province, nestled on the coast of the South China Sea.

Our apartment complex and view from my window

Seven minute walk from my apartment to the harbour!

The four of us had the immense privilege of being chosen to participate in an international medical exchange with one of our sister universities. Every day for three weeks, we toured two different hospital wards, ranging from Neonatology to Hepatobiliary to Orthopedic surgery. An English-speaking physician was assigned to us on each ward and would accompany us on bedside rounds of their patients.

The brain tumour research hospital… appropriately shaped.

Shantou “Hospital #1”

Bedside rounds & teaching


There were a number of striking differences in the Shantou hospital wards compared to our Canadian wards, but the most notable by far was the organization of care. In North America, family physicians (known in the past as “GPs”) are the first stop for the vast majority of patients. Sore throats, earaches, slipped discs, period problems, prostate problems, depression, pregnancy… most health concerns can be treated directly by a family doc, but if need be, the patient is then referred to the appropriate specialist for more unusual and complicated health conditions.

This type of healthcare organization, aka with a “primary care” focus, is rare in China, and the vast majority of individuals in China bypass primary care physicians and attempt to access specialists directly for all healthcare concerns. In other words, if you have a headache, you try to see a neurologist. A cough and sore throat? You hope to somehow snag an appointment with a respirologist. Partly this is due to cost: with China’s three-tiered system, individuals are required to pay for most services out of pocket, so patients do not want to risk having to pay a family physician and subsequently pay another fee to a specialist. Furthermore, there is a strong historical component that has cultivated a sense of mistrust towards the idea of primary care.

Several decades ago, the concept of “primary care” referred to farmers in rural areas who received a mere 3 months of training by urban medical professionals, in an attempt to address healthcare access issues for the enormous rural Chinese population (which represented 80% of the total Chinese population during the 1970s and 1980s). While these “barefoot doctors,” as they came to be known, provided some relief to the healthcare crisis, their training and medical expertise was understandably unequal to that provided in tertiary care centres staffed by fully trained physicians. The barefoot doctor system eventually collapsed under economic policies introduced during the Cultural Revolution.

Family Medicine was only introduced as an official specialty in Chinese medical schools in 1999. In 2009, new health reforms were put in place in response to rising public frustrations over difficulties in accessing professional medical care, as well as the steep prices associated with healthcare. The Chinese government instituted a goal of training 300 000 family physicians by 2020; even this impressive number, however, would still only provide 0.2 family doctors for every 1000 citizens (in comparison, consider that there are 1.17 family docs per 1000 Canadians – ~6x more than in China – and that is still woefully inadequate!!)

Some may think that China’s approach to healthcare is actually more effective; after all, cutting out the middle step of a family physician should likely result in faster and better service, right? On the contrary. Since 2009, primary care use in China has decreased, while visits to hospitals and specialist services have increased significantly. And sadly, death from all causes, money spent on healthcare, and inequity between rural and urban health measures have also increased in China. Multiple studies have shown that regular primary care improves health outcomes and reduces time spent in hospital. But unfortunately, in China, people with multiple different health concerns tend to use specialist and hospitalist care over regularly seeing a family physician. Moreover, people with lower incomes tend to have poorer access to primary care services, and therefore are at a higher risk for poorer health outcomes in general.

The partnership between our university and Shantou has been an exciting adjunct in addressing the primary care gap in China. While in Shantou, Canadian Family Medicine faculty and residents were very involved in giving lectures to and leading discussion groups with Shantou medical students and residents.

It was fascinating to discuss both the differences in clinical approaches between China and Canada, but also realize just how many similarities existed between our sites. As one preceptor stated, “We are all just trying to provide the best care possible to our patients.”

Collision 

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After finishing my official month at the hospital, I stayed on in Tuxtla for another ten days with my family, enjoying the freedom to sleep in, help out around the house, and await Josh’s arrival in Chiapas. After nearly five weeks of living on my own, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the thought of living as a couple once again. My time alone in Tuxtla had taught me an incredible amount about myself that I simply would not have learned in the same way if I was traveling with someone else. From the seemingly mundane (but for me, actually quite revolutionary!) lesson of learning to appreciate and even enjoy technology, to the possibly life-altering opportunity of being forced to work in both the ER and Pediatrics, to the maddeningly frustrating yet impossibly proud moments of having to depend solely on my own Spanish skills for communication, to the terrifying yet indescribably rewarding moments of having to depend solely on my own social skills for friendship… Because of experiences like these, I’ve always found it incredibly valuable to spend some time apart from each other, continuing to build our individual lives, and then also adding all the new lessons and challenges learned as individuals to our shared married life.

But as amazing as travelling alone can be, and as amazing as married life can be, the truth is that the transition between the two can be tricky. However, the Tuxtlayork crew were incredible (as they tend to be) at immediately welcoming Josh into our group and planning a week full of activities to show off our beloved Chiapas. As the experienced Chiapeneca, I got to play hostess to Josh, instructing him in the art of combi-riding, introducing him to the wonders of the Cañón del Sumidero, and ensuring that he was well-versed in the flavours of Tuxtla, including my favourites of michelada and tascalate. With Tuxtlayork, we returned to Sancris for a final weekend, and from Sancris, left on a twelve-hour round trip to seek out some of Chiapas’ maravillas:

Sancris 4.0: Columbian arepas, Mercado de dulces, & Maya Vinic fairtrade coffee!
Arepas!!
Dulces
Yes, that’s a chingón of souvenirs!
Maya Vinic

Las cascadas de Agua Azul
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Agua Azul

Misol-Ha (where Josh beat us back to the bus by swimming across, rather than walking):
Misol-Ha

Palenque: site of Mayan King Pakal’s legendary reign
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Site of torture and subsequent decapitation of criminals (yep, the torture seems gratuitous)
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With all our exchanges coming to an end around the same time, our final few days in Tuxtla were a blur of goodbye dinners and tearful hugs. We kept each other positive by talking about next summer – Sandra was going into her final year of medicine, so we decided a combination celebration/reunion was absolutely essential. The only question remaining is in which country it will be held!

Jammin’ … classic setlist of Radiohead, Romeo Santos, Fall Out Boy, and Heathen Eve originals
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Jammin2
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Despedida 1.0 😦
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Marimba lessons from the experts
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Beautiful farewell dinner (complete with Mexican sushi!) with our host families
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Far sooner than I was ready for, it was our turn to be dropped off at the Tuxtla airport to catch our flight to Cancún and continue the next leg of our Mexican adventure. Thankfully, the airport was tiny enough that we could disregard all the PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT warnings, and Valeria and Valeria escorted us with besos and a running photo-documentary all the way to the security checkpoint… at which point our final hugs were supervised by armed guards and the Valerias were then escorted back to the waiting area.

Despedida 2.0 😦 😦
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No es un adiós, es solamente un ¡Hasta pronto! a mi querida Chiapas.
And for the moment, es un ¡Hola! a Quintana Roo

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Tuxtlayork

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After a week settling into my new Mexican home, I was informed that another exchange student from Columbia would be arriving the next day, hosted by my host’s best friend (conveniently also named Valeria). As I tend to be, I was leery about introducing someone new into my comfortable Mexican life… but (as is so often the case), I should never have worried. Sandra “La Columbiana” arrived in full force the next morning, flooding Mexico with “usted” (the respectful form of address is used almost exclusively in Columbia, even between dating couples) and exclamations of “chiquitico” and “poquitico” (the Columbian diminutive form manages to be even more adorable than the standard Spanish diminutive).

Warm, generous, wildly affectionate and wickedly hilarious, Sandra was a welcome addition to my exchange experience. From our first day spent together exploring the many parks of Tuxtla, it was evident that the four of us fit comfortably together, and rarely a day or night passed without us going out for micheladas, going out dancing, or sleeping over at one of the Valeria’s houses.

La Marimba, Chiapas’ signature sound, de la Parque Chiapasonate   

Getting pulled into a sexy catwalk/dance contest hosted by a clown in the park. After some Ukrainian Baptist dance moves that I believe only thoroughly bewildered the crowd, La Canada won second place! My prize? A light-up hippo keychain and a heart balloon.    

The next week, we found out that one more exchange student would be joining Tuxtla for the summer – a chico from Venezuela who was studying medicine in España. We went to his SCOPE welcome dinner more out of curiosity than anything: he was a research student while the rest of us were clinical students, and he would be living on his own by the university campus instead of with a host family, so the expectation of seeing him regularly was low.

However, Andrés had the definition of buena onda, the Latino description for that indescribable quality possessed by truly genuine people that irresistibly attracts you to them. Impulsively, we invited him out with us the next night for more micheladas… which turned into a uninterrupted string of beautiful days and impossibly fun nights together.

In all the roads I have travelled, las cascadas de Aguacero is the most breathtakingly beautiful place I have ever seen   

Enjoying pollo asado for lunch after miraculously keeping it dry walking through the falls  

Reina de la cascada! 😛 (gracias a Valeria para encontrar mi corona jajaja)            

It wasn’t only the insane weekends spent dancing until 6AM in Sancris that made our time together unforgettable (although those certainly helped 😉 ). It was also the mornings after dancing, when we’d go out for breakfast empanadas at noon in the Mercado de los Dulces and argue about body image and health education in our respective countries. It was the long afternoons in Andrés’ apartment, watching Amityville Horror (not my choice, I assure you!!), eating Rockoleta chili suckers, and discussing our countries’ views on homosexuality, our own views on sexuality in general, and all the social/political/religious/personal elements that affect our relationships whether we want them to or not. It was sharing stories about taking night shift at the hospital, our agreements and disagreements regarding doctors’ bedside manner, our arguments about antibiotic use. It was the twelve hours round-trip to Palenque that we spent crammed in a combi together, careening through the jungle and tipping precariously over mountain cliffs, trying to sleep wrapped around each other like the canned tunafish we shared for supper on the road. It was the long afternoons spent lying on Valeria’s bed, sharing pictures from our incredible day and stupid memes on Whatsapp.

While out dancing at a club in Tuxtla, we got our photo taken for a local pop culture magazine. Apparently I’m a bigger deal in Mexico than in Winnipeg!

Sancris 2.0
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Afternoon sliding fun at Rancho Nuevo with new Sancris friends
  

Sancris 3.0: Midnight birthday celebrations with more wonderful new friends  

“Hay figuras…” Informative and hilarious guided tours through Las Grutas by local kids    

This is the golden reward of an exchange. Unlike, say, a conference, where you have the opportunity to talk to people of different backgrounds and cultures, but only for an isolated moment in time; an exchange gives you the gift of actually living and breathing and eating together in a real snapshot of your life. Having the gift of time allows you to spend time doing absolutely nothing together, thus cultivating a level of comfort that paves the ground for even more genuine conversations. And surprisingly, it is the in-between times, the times between ridiculous adventures and intense conversations, where you learn the unexpected things about yourself and others that you can both laugh at and challenge each other on.

We were five individuals of different ages, skin colours, faith backgrounds, language backgrounds, travel histories, sexuality, and definitions of family. One of us can’t handle spicy food. One of us doesn’t drink. One overuses antibiotics. One didn’t know what cystic fibrosis was. One of us was terrible with changes of plan. One was terrible with punctuality. We were all medical students, all determined to improve the health of our world around us in some way, with different resources at our fingertips, different supports at our back, different goals in front of us. And wherever we went next, we would all be immutably changed by our time spent together in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Chiapas, Mexico.

Valeria, Valeria, Sandra, y Andrés, como podría describir la importancia de su amistad en mi vida? De nuestros conversaciones, de las historias de sus vidas, del tiempo que pasamos juntos, he aprendido un chingón de cosas de ustedes que van a cambiar mi vida por siempre! Muchísimas gracias para desafiar mis pensamientos y me daban apoyo y amor cuando lo necesitaba. Tienen siempre una casa y una amiga loca en Canadá! Los quiero muchísimos, mis bebés, y los extraño. #Cancún2016!!

“UPED” is also a 4-letter word…

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I have a confession to make: I have no desire whatsoever to blog.

I feel so at home here in Tuxtla that it’s easy to forget I’m supposed to be a traveller. The truth is, I’m not travelling anymore – I have my home here, a job to go to every day, friends I can make plans with, public transit I’m comfortable taking, new cellphone chargers to buy when mine dies. It’s only when I consider blogging that I remember my time here is temporary, and as a result, I have been avoiding this blog like the plague.

However, with the month drawing to a close, it is becoming difficult to ignore the fact that I have another life in Canada, and when I return to that life, I know I’ll want these blog posts to remind me of my home in Mexico!

Centro medico

Let’s backtrack a minute to A Day in the Life of el Estudiante Sarita, and to that fateful comment posted by a faithful reader: “Your new position doesn’t make for as harrowing a blog post but it sounds much better for you – way to go on suggesting a switch.”

Now, let’s fast-forward to a week after I had comfortably settled into my routine in Pediatria. On Friday afternoon, after my regular debriefing with la Doctora, I kissed her good-bye and told her I’d see her on Monday, to which she responded, “Oh, I won’t be here on Monday – I’m leaving for holidays for the next 2 weeks!”

… say what?

I bemusedly contacted Lizeth, my exchange coordinator, informing her that my placement would need to change yet again, and somehow she worked rapid magic and found me a placement for the next week.

Remember my comment from my first week, about how I had little interest in Emergency and even less in Pediatrics? Well, the fates decided that I was giving up on both too soon, and I was to report the next work day to …
*drumroll please*

Las Urgencias Pediatricas Emergency Department (UPED).

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Note the makeshifts tent set up along the gates, where people sleep while waiting for news about their family members
Tents

Upon arrival, I was introduced to Miguel, an incredibly kind if incredibly fast-talking interno (Year 5 of 6 in Mexican medical education). Our introductions were suddenly interrupted by shouting behind us, as the doctor doing rounds engaged in a heated debate with a nurse and a resident regarding a discrepancy in patient care. I have never heard so many creative variations of groserías as I heard coming from that doctor’s mouth. As his tirade was winding down, Miguel nudged me. “Go introduce yourself to that loco,” he whispered. “That’s your supervising doctor.”

Hesitantly, I approached the doctor, who was, self-admittedly, completely loco and not one to mince words when he felt his staff was slacking off. But he was also an amazing doctor, devoted to his patients and passionate about improving their level of care and his staff’s skill level. He warmly greeted me, and instructed Miguel to provide me with every possible opportunity to learn during my time in UPED.

UPED

Miguel took this to heart and took me under his wing, immediately walking me through the process of how to take a patient history for new entries, how to fill out a lab req, and where to drop off blood samples (Quick reminder: This is all in Spanish. Oy vey, my ears were bleeding from trying so hard to listen and absorb everything!) However, as Miguel and I were taking down the patient history of a 6-year old with a ruptured appendix, there was another flurry of activity as the surgeon came striding into the ER – there was a 3-year old with a perforated intestine requiring even more emergent surgery, and I was informed that I was to accompany them into surgery.

I do not know how much more clearly I could have stated, “I HAVE NO CLINICAL EXPERIENCE IN SURGERY. I HAVE NEVER SEEN A SURGERY BEFORE.” Before I knew it, I was on the surgical ward, changing into Miguel’s borrowed surgical scrubs and frantically trying to listen to how I was to scrub my hands and what to do with the surgical booties and where to stand so I wouldn’t contaminate everything. The surgical resident was extremely personable if extremely brusque, and as he was unpacking the sterile trays, he showed me each instrument and told me its name. I tried to absorb as much as possible, but since he was only showing me everything once and since I was very clear that it was the first time in my life I had ever seen these things – in English OR Spanish – I was assuming this experience was more of a bonus teaching session.

Assume nothing. Behind us was the operating table with the tiny patient already anesthethized, and within minutes, the surgeon was on one side of the table, the resident on the other, and I, the first-year exchange student, was beside the resident as the instrumentist for the surgery.

Pardon my Spanish, but ¡¿QC?!

Long story short: They quickly realised I meant it when I said I had no surgical experience, and another resident was called in to act as instrumentist. Once the resident took over as instrumentist and I was able to simply observe the surgery (which was all I wanted to do in the first place!), I was in awe. This was (as I have mentioned many times!), the first surgery I have ever seen, and it was beautiful. Watching the surgeon delicately slice through each layer of tissue, cauterizing the edges of the cut to control the bleeding, that distinctive smell in the air, the metres of intestines that literally came ballooning out of the body once they were freed from their confined space… The human body is incredible, amazing, miraculous, and powerful, and to see it exposed so carefully was a true gift.

(Speaking of gifts, the surgery occurred on my sister’s birthday, and I kept wondering what her reaction would be if she were in the room :P)

Once the perforation was corrected by resectioning 20 cm of intestine (which were handed to me with the instructions, “Guardalo.”) and a stoma made in the side of the patient, the pinch-hitter resident and the surgeon left me and the original resident alone to sew up the incisions. And I kid you not – completely scrubbed up with only our eyes visible, standing on opposite sides of a draped patient with a gaping open abdomen, with my finger acting as an anchor for the stitches holding the abdominal wall together – the resident casually started to flirt with me. Oh, los Mexicanos!!

Once the incision was closed and cleaned, the resident left to chart and the nurse handed me a plastic bottle containing the 20 cm of intestine, and asked me to go prepare it in formaldehyde. I wandered into the hall, clutching my intestine bottle, and eventually found some very nice healthcare aides who took me to a jug of formaldehye sitting in the hallway and helped me syringe in enough to cover the sample. At this point, the resident had me fill out a Pathology report, then instructed me to go change. In the change room, juggling my borrowed scrubs, the Path report, the intestine, and a can of Coke the resident insisted on buying for me, I had a brief out-of-body experience and wanted to break into uncontrollable laughter.

Instead, I changed and met the resident in the ICU, where he proceeded to hand the intestine bottle to the patient’s mother, informed her that here was what had caused the problem, and pointed her to her daughter’s bed. He then turned to me and said, “Well, quieres una otra Coka?”

El tor de Chiapas

That was my first day in las Urgencias Pediatrias. And though I frantically reviewed and quizzed myself on all surgical instruments that night, I did not go back into the OR. Instead, the rest of my time in the hospital was spent finally being useful. I was comfortable enough with the layout of the hospital and in my lanugage skills to actually be able to type up patient charts, collect lab results, fill out reqs, and drop off samples at the lab, even understanding when there was an issue with one of the reqs and being able to correct it myself without having to bother an intern. The UPED staff were incredible to work with – so patient with my language skills and constantly finding things they could teach me how to do so I could do them myself. Los internos invited me to stay on for la guardia (night shift) one night, and it was very satisfying to be further included as a part of their team.

Friday was my last day in the hospital, and when one of the doctors found out, he started giving the interns a hard time, “Where’s her cake? It’s la canadiense’s last day, of course we need a cake!” I laughed it off as a joke, but sure enough, later in the day, Miguel came running in with a bakery box, and soon the entire UPED staff was gathered in the break room, toasting me as I cut the cake.

Gracias por el pastel, Dr. Keeven!

Los estimados doctores del UPED
UPED doctores

La buena gente del UPED 🙂
Internos de UPED

To make it a truly authentic Urgencias fiesta, after about 10 minutes of relaxing together, another doctor came running in, shouting, “There’s a head injury outside, the patient is seizuring!” With this, everyone shoved the last bite of cake in their mouth and bolted outside.

My time in Mexico has taught me too many things to count. But possibly the most surprising, and the most potentially life-changing, is that as much as I cannot believe I am about to admit this…

I love Peds. and I love Emerg.

And I have no idea where I will end up next!

Outside the hospital