Caution: Verbose rambling ahead

51 operations, countless consultations, and I haven't dictated a single chart in a fortnight. My transcription staff at home is likely fearing the dammed-up verbiage that awaits them upon my return. So if only for their benefit, I unleash the lingual catharsis below in hopes that come Monday my words will be few. Barb, the office bookie, is currently calculating the odds - they're not good.

Crowded airplanes are not necessarily the best environment to start processing through and eventful two weeks. I'd much rather have an unscheduled day, an easy chair, a pot of coffee (or three), and two growing girls vying for space in my lap (coffee spills notwithstanding). As it is, that is the plan for tomorrow. At present, I am content with the little bubble of personal space called seat 31D. Occasionally someone stops by to offer me coffee, tonic water, or a shrink-wrapped pastry. The iPod is on shuffle. Life could be worse.

I haven't had time to compile final numbers - I think we did about 51 operations and probably saw twice as many surgical consultations. Marie, Franz, Paola, and Sarona also saw countless medical patients in her tireless clinic work. Reuben was always checking vision and giving someone glasses, even while loading the truck on our last day (he kept one box of glasses out for as long as he could). Yoko managed to keep us fed, free from illness, and somehow to spend the quality time with our patients that we could not - listening, talking, counseling, and praying with them - I have no idea where she finds the time as she never seems rushed. She multiplies minutes like loaves and fishes. Francis was here and there doing a little of everything. Occasionally he would disappear to Santa Cruz attending to urgent matters and maybe seeing his family (a most urgent matter - he is away from them so much). When he is gone, one of his disciples fills in with ever increasing confidence, grace, English proficiency, compassion, and patience. Their growth in just over a year is astounding.

Jon was again a Godsend - I love that he made the decision to come a second time. As of yet, he and Wendy are the only gringos crazy enough to come with me a second time. I can't say enough about what a blessing it is to work with him both personally and professionally - safe, efficient, compassionate care... and he is downright hilarious (or maybe the anesthesia machine was leaking). He made teasing Brenda and Paola as much of an art form as providing state of the art general anesthesia in the Bolivian hinterlands.

Brenda - I wasn't quite sure what she was going to do when she signed up for the trip - I knew very little of her background at the time. Getting to know her was a a joy in itself - I am glad she came for both weeks (I think she will be too once she has a couple days to rest up). What would she do? Everything, really (except serve Jon breakfast). She was a sterile instrument processor, a central supply runner, a circulator, a scrub tech, a Spanglish pantomime translator, and managed to take the brunt of Klatt's teasing so the surgeon could do his work in peace. Her work ethic was amazing and durable - sure she got tired - but she continued to keep things going. She was the grease on every gear (flattering, I know) of our well-oiled machine. For all our complaints about inefficiency, we did more surgery in two weeks than I do in two months at home. I still can't believe there was only one of her. She was everywhere.

I guess gratitude is what is most on my mind right now. I have so much to be thankful for. These projects are intense. Stress, anxiety, fear, unertainty, fatigue, and frustration on one hand, but also joy, laughter, love, peace, gratitude, friendship, and trust on the other. The oscillation and contrast between them seems to heighten the experience and appreciation of each. Maybe this is true of life in general, but for some reason I seem to notice it more down there. I seldom work harder or have more fun than on these projects. I dare you to come with me.

I also thank you for reading along (if you are still with me). Writing these posts has become the way I process my experiences - they can get a little wacky or personal from time to time (maybe even most of the time). If you haven't had enough yet, feel free to ask me about the project. I've got 8.8 kilos of coffee beans in my carry-on - I'd be glad to share a pot of it with any of you if you've got the time.






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