I think this is what they call a paradigm shift

Over the last few days I have been making a list of the differences between here and home. At first it was general everyday things, but then I came across some realizations in working here that are unsettling at best. I haven't nearly wrapped my head around all of this, I'm not sure if I ever will to be honest. What happens here when people are sick is such a harsh reality I don't think it should ever sit right with someone.

I feel like asking you if you want the good news or bad news first...You could argue to tell the good stuff first and then you start off in a good mood. I like leaving off in a good mood so I guess I'll talk about the harsher first, it is my blog after all.

One of my patients who originally came to screening was referred because the tumors on his face are cancerous. When I met him I was immediately drawn in. I don't know if it was the kindness in his eyes, the way his big feet softly padded on the floor, maybe it was the gentleness of his demeanor, but I was drawn in right away. He has such motivation to live and is working to find treatment for his disease. We have been working with him and so far we seem to be on the right track. One of the first days I was here I set out to find cancer treatment options in West Africa as we believe our patient may need radiation, which is not available here in Benin. I emailed everyone I could think of, including the American Cancer Society (who were really helpful...go USA) and the closest place is hundreds of miles away in Ghana (which we knew, I was just hoping for something closer I guess). Here's a statistic for you, there is one oncologist here in Benin, one. One doctor specialized in treating cancer for a country with a population of 8 million people. And this is one of the better ones. As I emailed people I kept thinking to myself of all the doctors and endless treatment I used to be surrounded by. I was 4 floors up from countless doctors and specialists who could help this man. Or how about just calling over to Dana Farber, one of the worlds best cancer institutes, connected to my hospital by one small hallway. Having that knowledge and having this feeling sucks to be honest. I really don't like it.

If our patient can get the money together for treatment (400 bucks a whack times 6 doses, nearly impossible here for anyone to come up with that kind of money) and IF they can even get the medication delivered to the country(oh yea, no pharmacy you call down to to deliver the med to your floor), and IF he responds to it, and IF he can get the money to go to Ghana for radiation (while supporting and feeding his family here too), even then he could need surgery...you get the point. I know God is big enough to do this, that isn't worth arguing. I am just having a hard time letting it sink in I guess. I think I am starting to understand the instruction "but in everything through prayer and petition present your requests to God". Oh man.

Ok, you ready for the good news? I'm not sure if it will be that funny to you but I have had a few good laughs (at my own expense) in the almost 5 days I've been here.

~While reading through my job description as it pertains to the ship I saw a "productivity" section. Our goal of how many patients we see is set yet "it will be dependent on rainy season", and they're dead serious, it gets so bad you base your whole job and day on whether or not its raining. This is a different world.

~On ships a lot of times you need to step up into the doorways. Not true here. Well, that's a lie, you do have to step up into some, but only on like every 6th door you walk through, making it impossible to predict or get accustomed to, thus making it nearly impossible not to trip through every 6th door. (It could be every 5th or 7th, I haven't tested these numbers)

~I can wear flip flops to work if I want to. period.

~2 minute showers are easy, when you don't have to wash your hair. Even then they are a piece of cake, until you add shaving your legs. I'm still fine tuning the process, I'll let you know how I progress.

~I thought bunk beds were the best thing next to chunky peanut butter as a kid, especially if you scored the top one. I still think they are at 26 years old, and now I get to sleep on the top bunk every night.

~I bet if you told me when I was a kid that one day I would get these sweet sleeping arrangements as an adult I would have thought that was the coolest thing ever, I obviously have good memories from sleep-over camp, eh?
(I'm actually not being sarcastic here)

OK, that's all for now. Here's my "TIA" for the day:

Rush hour traffic in Cotonou. Forget potholes, You think people in Boston might complain about a literal hole in the road? The best thing is if you come across said hole you just drive on the sidewalk, this is Africa afterall. And yes, that's a lady holding a gigantic suitcase on the back of that bike, not even close to the most impressive I've seen so far, I'll try for more evidence of these stunts in the next few days and weeks (I was too late getting my camera out for the guy with a refrigerator on the back of his bike, seriously)



I can't stop thanking God for all of this. I am living an incredible adventure, and its nothing I could have formulated on my own. He is good.

Romans 12:2
"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."