peaking through the leaves of the rustling tree above, book in one hand, and
Ray LaMontagne on the ipod. My return to first team action hasn't exactly
been frantic.
By the evening I'm back in clinic. A child with a fever and confusion, a
myriad of possibilities and the lab and microscopes are out of action until
we get some sun. Solar power the only option here. It will have to wait
until tomorrow, child admitted and settled. A man with a thorn deep in his
foot, an injection of local anaesthetic and a scalpel, tweezers and a few
sutures later and he's off grinning into the market. Sunday afternoon hasn't
been so leisurely in ages.
So I've sorted out my contract, which had been a little up in the air. This
whole adventure will meet its conclusion in a little over four weeks, I'll
have ten months on the clock by then. I haven't really thought about how I'm
going feel when it does all come to an end. A mixture of thoughts is a
certainty, sadness most obviously. What I do know is that I'm getting really
tired and it's time to get out before I become bitter and twisted or, more
importantly and more probable, start screwing things up!
So the plan this week (and it all changed an hour ago, so who knows whether
it will actually materialise) is to go and do some outbreak investigation in
a few villages, and then (and if this happens I might fall off my chair!)
possibly some outreach. I've been pushing really hard to get to one
particular outreach clinic, which is very much the forgotten child of the
four. It is consequently the weakest by a considerable distance. Not a huge
amount I'm going to do in a month but at least we can get things moving a
little before rainy season, which approaches with break neck speed.
I hope you all have good week. More as and when.
