Grumpy

People used to ask us, “How long are you going to stay in Chad?”  

We always responded, “Until we were no longer having fun!”  That was the easy answer.  We knew we wanted to stay for several years.  Even though we had a contract for 6 years, we never felt bound to this.  

Now we’ve been here 7 ½ years and we are getting an itch.  I’m not sure what it is.  Sadly for the people who visit us, they get to hear our complainings about this or that.  But also, people realize that it is truly a hard place to live.  

I just had a visiting doctor plan to come for a month.  All of our visitors must visit the local authorities.  She visited the local authorities along with 3 other volunteers, one who was seasoned.  The meeting included a lot of yelling and screaming, pointing fingers in the face of Diana (the seasoned volunteer).  The local authorities wanted their bribe.  Diana wasn’t going to give it.  My poor volunteers who had just arrived had no idea why there was so much yelling going on.  Diana called Olen, who got involved and said they would have to come put him in Jail because we were not paying their bribe.  

Unfortunately that’s just how it is here.  The Prefet later called to apologize to Olen because he realized the authorities were just wanting a bribe and not a real payment. 

One of the new volunteers has been to over 60 countries.  She said she has never been to a country that made her feel so unwelcome as that office.  They were downright rude and scary.  She wasn’t sure if she was going to be put in jail or not.  And she hadn’t even done anything wrong.  She just came here to help out with obstetrics since I was supposed to be gone.  And Sarah is gone.  

That’s just one example of how it’s rough here.  And that wasn’t even a big deal, to us.  It was a big deal to our new volunteers though.  

I can’t really describe it.  But lately I just don’t want to go into work.  Maybe I’m just plain lazy.  Maybe it’s because I would rather be with my kids.  Maybe I’m tired of people asking me for things ALL THE TIME.  Maybe I’m tired of infections.  So many postoperative infections.  Maybe, despite our best efforts, people still die.  ALL THE TIME.  

Maybe I’m ready to travel.  There is nowhere to go here.  Maybe I’m tired of compound life.  Maybe I’m tired of the heat.  Maybe I’m tired of being available 24/7.  Maybe I miss the rest of my family in America.  Maybe I’m tired of my kids being sick and half the time not knowing what they are really sick with.  And malaria could always kill them.  

I don’t know what it is.  It’s rewarding to know how to care for a patient.  Today I ran up to help a mother with a breech baby that had been stuck for over an hour as she had started the delivery process at home.  The midwife couldn’t get the baby out.  I like knowing what to do to get the baby out.  It’s rewarding.  

I like knowing how to diagnose GYN issues.  Today I did a vaginal exam and discovered the patient had a cyst or maybe a fallopian tube poking through a vaginal cuff from a previous hysterectomy.  The previous doctor that had seen her thought she still had a cervix.  I like knowing how to take care of her.  I scheduled her for surgery.  I want her to get good care.  

I want our excellence in care to continue.  I want good obstetrical care.  I want good surgical care.  Today I counseled a patient that her next delivery would need to be induced early, even with her history of c section because this baby (c section) and her last baby had died during the process.  Life is sad here.  But we can provide good care still.  Her next baby needs to be induced or maybe just a repeat c section.  I need to know that the next doctor will provide good care for her.  

We are not that awesome.  We are no different than your next doctor in America.  But it is leaps and bounds better than the surrounding care here.  The stuff that gets referred here.  The stuff that stays at home here.  Until it is too late.  It’s astounding.  It’s astoundingly sad.  

Who will replace us?  We are not that proud to think that nobody can replace us. 

When you think you are so irreplaceable, then it is time to leave.  For you have replaced God.  But still I can’t help to think of who is coming.  Who is coming?  How much longer can we stay here?  How good are we here if we are not cheerfully doing our work everyday?  If people see us as just working?  What good is it if you save a few lives if you are grumpy doing it?  I must argue not much good.  

My children are getting older.  I want to take care of them when they are small.  I can’t make it 3 more years until the next scheduled surgeon is maybe going to be ready to come out here.  Many of the surgeons who are graduating are deciding on going to fellowship first.  As if fellowship is going to train them better to come here.  The best training is to come here and work for 6 months while an experienced doctor is still here. 

I think I’m just ready for a change.  

I recently asked another missionary who is visiting us, how do you know when it’s time to leave?  His response was , “I always said I could leave when there was a replacement for me.”  

Well, there’s certainly no replacement yet.  But I’m feeling like I wish there was one.  

There’s also the, If you are unhappy in one place in life, and you move somewhere else to get happier, you never find your happiness.  You need to find your happiness wherever you are, and then you will always be happy.  

At the moment, I don’t have answers.  Only questions.  Only complaints it seems.