fever in the morning, fever all through the night

who graduates from university with two specialised degrees in health yet neglects to bring a basic first aid/medical kit over to kenya? me. that’s who.

when I left australia, my ‘drug bag’ consisted of the following:
– atenolol (required heart medication)
– lariam (required malaria medication)
– aspro extra strength (the only thing that works for me when I have a headache)
– gastrostop & immodium (I didn’t even buy these, my aunt who is a nurse bought them as a ‘haha’ birthday present for me to start packing my medical kit for kenya, along with some disposable undies and extra large condoms – “because black men are well endowed”… very haha)
– bushmans 80% deet bug spray (because I am not coming home from africa with malaria, although I’m sure I probably will)
– gloves and alcohol hand sanitiser (for when I would be in hospitals/clinics)
aaaand yep. that’s it.

then I got to france and buggered my feet something shocking so had to buy the following:
– bandaids (but they’re so un-sticky I’d be better off without them)
– sports tape (and it’s so sticky, it’s the best 20 bucks I’ve spent on a sports tape)
– ibuprofen (because I figured aspro might not help with ‘open wound/raw skin’ pain… although ibuprofen wasn’t all that good either
– also bought sunscreen as I realised I would soon be in turkey and in constant 30deg sunshine, and didn’t feel it necessary to bring such a silly item from home because I could just as easily purchase it from somewhere whilst overseas… of course in paris, they pretty much only sell really really nice sunscreens so after spending €30 on a clinique sunscreen because that’s all they had left, I was kicking myself for not bringing some cheap banana boat coconut scented sunscreen with me. yes mum I should’ve listened.

then I got to turkey and got swimmers ear, so I got bottle of prednisolone ear drops. not that I’ll likely need them whilst I’m in kenya, but it’s another addition to my pathetic ‘kit’. oh and I stocked up on proper band aids. win.

and then I got to kenya, and see people have the most amazing first aid/medical kits. things like antibiotics for when you get travelers diarrhoea, antibiotics for just in case you get this infection and this antibiotic might fix it (ie. bactrim, amoxycillin, etc) burn cream, after sun cream, extra strength hydrocortisone cream for bites and itches, tongue depressors, antiseptic wash, bandages, finger splints, instant ice packs, paracetamol, tylenol, motion sickness tablets, tylenol with decongestant properties, sleeping tablets, anxiety medication (not prescribed, just in case), muscle relaxants, cough syrup, blister protectors, drops for pink eye, anti-itch wipes for bites… the list goes on. basically everything you may need for when disaster strikes and the world ends and you just happen to be stuck in kenya at that point of time.

shit.

and these are legitimate examples from people’s first aid kits that I’ve had a nosy at and felt utterly idiotic for not listening to my mother who said before I left (and I quote) “you know you really should see the gp to get some prescriptions for antibiotics just incase.. you never know. oh and while you’re at it, perhaps a first aid kit wouldn’t go astray”. but in true ‘victoria the fiercely independent fool who doesn’t listen to other people’s suggestions form’, I decided that would be silly as its just another example of doctors too readily giving out antibiotics and that’s why the world is building up antibiotic resistant diseases à la VRE and MRSA, and that I shouldn’t encourage that behaviour blah blah blah. as well as the fact that I convinced myself that I wouldn’t be the patient so I shouldn’t waste money on things that I could use on someone else.

yeah well I pretty much slapped myself in the face when 2 weeks ago I had a productive cough with green gunk coming from my lungs and a decent fever… classic chest infection. antibiotics would have gone down a bloody treat then. absolute idiot. or when a few days ago, my symptoms reappeared but instead of the cough, my head was so full of snot I thought my eyes were going to bulge out of my head it was so congested up in there… cold and flu/decongestant stuff would’ve been amazing.

this deems me to be the worst prepared qualified healthcare professional, ever, to set foot in kenya, I’m sure of it. and I’ve also learnt that you should always listen to your mother, even when you’re 100% certain she’s crazy/nuts/ridiculously wrong/gone off her nutter… she’s not. she’s always right.

and so it is just like you said it would be

so I’ve already mentioned, I was first placed at the family planning clinic in thika – a town about 45 mins north of nairobi. I had actually organised to be in maasai land for my first 2 months but obviously that wasn’t communicated from the organisation I booked with (IVHQ) to the organisation I now work for (NVS)… but hey, I’m a volunteer so I’ll go where I’m needed most.

so steve, vince, ashley, chelsea and I were supposed to be picked up from nairobi at 11am but in true african time, that didn’t happen until almost 2pm. classic kenyans. arriving in thika, we met josephine (our host mum) and her two year old son prince. we weren’t actually staying at their house, it was an apartment that NVS was obviously renting for when volunteers came out that way. it only had 2 couches, a coffee table and mattresses in it when we got there; bunk beds were supposed to arrive that night (but you probably don’t need me to tell you that that didn’t happen… I’m slowly learning to not expect anything to actually happen when people say it will)

the view from our apartment

josephine walked us around the town, which was just another big city really – felt similar to nairobi, with the horrible exhaust fumes and dust and smog… I swear if I don’t come back from kenya with only half a functioning lung, it will be an absolute miracle.

the streets, mainly dirt roads

the city centre; so unbelievably busy, pretty sure I got a headache just from walking through it

my first day at the clinic was, how should I put it… uninspiring. I don’t want to write too negatively about it because I’m sure some students would be fine there, but I’ve done my fair share of sitting around and being treating like an incapable first year who can’t take a BP, or even a resp rate. I definitely didn’t come to kenya for that. long story short, it felt as though the clinic either didn’t know what to do with me, didn’t really want me there or had never had a volunteer before. there are a lot of reasons why I think that, and I don’t think it’s necessary to write them all down, but I did change my placement. after showing up on monday morning to a very surprised lot of staff who sent us home, I called NVS to change places and they obliged. thank the good lord, because I definitely couldn’t go another day in a place where you don’t feel welcomed or wanted.

the clinic itself was pretty shocking and eye opening. a family planning clinic, as the name suggests, has a whole lot to do with contraception options as well as some maternal/child health stuff and a small theatre. initially it sounded promising, but on my first day, I realised how ‘backwards’ the clinic was. I totally get that each culture has their own beliefs about contraception, but I was totally shocked to see that the “withdrawal method” was in the book of accepted safe sex practises released by the health service within the kenyan government. um, pretty sure the last time I checked, that method does not stop you from becoming pregnant, it does not stop you from getting STI’s and it most certainly doesn’t prevent the spread of HIV. the lactation method also got a mention (where for 6 months after child birth, if you breast feed, it stimulates certain hormones to prevent you releasing eggs thus preventing you from getting pregnant… I think that’s how it works anyway). but even that isn’t completely safe. I wish I could ask the men of kenya what the problem is with using condoms. I even got to watch a demonstration of how to use a female condom… didn’t even think those bad boys were still in circulation/they should be in a museum of “how people used to prevent getting pregnant, back in the day” alongside diaphragms.

another example of me still having to remind myself where I am.

another unbelievable thing was seeing the posters on the walls. one in particular was about aseptic technique when in theatre (ie. how not to give your patients infections when you’re operating on them) and it was dated 1992. I was speechless. coming from a country where a new journal article is considered old if it was published over 3 years ago, I couldn’t believe they were still relying on research done over 20 years ago.
dis is africa.

what the clinic looked like inside one of the consult rooms. note: the pink bucket is where they put used equipment like speculums and forceps, it had some solution in it that sterilises them

trying to make it look like I had a productive day… didn’t even use my stethoscope! totes just for looks.

so for a number of reasons, not just the clinic, I was glad to get out of thika. we all were. we never really felt comfortable, useful or helpful. but hey, you have to have the bad days to appreciate the good ones, right?

happy days.

when you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose

the time has come! to say I’m nervous would be the biggest understatement made in this century. I’m so nervous about everything that may or may not happen in the next 6 months.. but it’s an excited nervous – talk about fear of the unknown. I’m unbelievably excited about finally being on my way, 12 months down the track from first starting to plan this trip, and I’m actually doing it. there are far too many emotions that I’m thinking and feeling now, especially after a fantastic final few days in europe. on one hand, I am so ready for the huge challenge, but on the other, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m actually doing it.

better believe it sunshine, you’re on the plane!

kenya believe I’m going to kenya?!