and I think I almost died. Well, perhaps not, but there was a certain amount of panic. I went for a morning run around Miraflores yesterday. I left around 6:30, an hour before we had to be ready to leave for the clinic where the the otology course is happening, thinking I'd run for a half hour and then have plenty of time for a long overdue shower and breakfast before we would leave. It didn't go as planned - I got a little lost (luckily I don't think I left the district, but some of it did look pretty shady). I finally found my way back to the apartment at 7:25. I think I ran at least 6 or so miles, but I really can't be sure because I don't have any idea where I went. All I know is that upon my return, I promptly ran upstairs and changed clothes, splashed water on my face, and grabbed a granola bar and an apple for breakfast and ran out the door. I was still sweating buckets and I didn't have a chance to brush my teeth (ewww). Moments like these make me glad I never saw the movie Taken. I guess any potential kidnappers would have to catch me first, and the adrenaline from the panic made me faster I think.
I told my mom about it later. She was wonderfully unconcerned.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Peru (real) day 1
Just finishing up my first real day here in Lima. I arrived yesterday afternoon and pretty much just spent the afternoon settling in, after a rather terrifying ride from the airport. Seriously, I think the lanes painted on the roads are more suggestions than actual rules. And who needs stop signs when you've got a horn on your car?? As evidenced from what little I've seen of it so far, Lima is a sprawling metropolis, and an interesting mix of modern city and slum. Some of the older buildings harken back to the Spanish style, while others are high-rises, but the majority are about 4 stories maximum, often painted in many colors, most covered in dirt and graffiti. The district where I'm staying, Miraflores, is the nicest I've seen so far, but I haven't had the time or the guts to go for a run yet (and im feeling it haha). Ill probably do it next time I'm free in the middle of the day.
Today was the first day I've been to the hospital, Dos de Mayo. It doesn't look like much from the street where the main entrance is, just a blue facade about 2 stories high, but inside it was all hustle and bustle and apparently it's a 500-bed hospital. There are courtyards connecting the different areas, and the wards are open-air. Like Civil War-style. We did 3 ear surgeries today, and the first two only used LOCAL ANESTHESIA. For actual surgery. Mind = blown. It worked surprisingly well, except for when the patient would move a little, and then they'd get yelled at ("no moviendo!" or something like that). The time between cases was precisely equal to the amount of time it takes to wheel the first patient out and the next one in. Operating rooms run a heck of a lot faster without an hour of room turnover time. Mind = blown again. I'm not sure how that jives with the whole sterility issue, but hey, things got wiped down with alcohol puro (mmm... Smells like undergrad). At least I know I wiped down the microscope (they don't have those complicated plastic drape-y thing specifically for the scope here. You may know it as the one the med student gets warned on penalty of death not to touch). I also mixed said local anesthetic (9 parts lidocaine to one part epi. Hope I did it right). Scrub gowns are made of heavy cloth instead of disposable paper and are sweltering, but I did get to close on the last case of the day, so hooray. We also decided the last patient was likely Turners Syndrome, as she was approximately 3'11" and had what looked like a shield chest to me. The pathology in the cases here is so much more advanced than anything I've seen so far in the states because there isn't access to regular ENT surgery for so many people. Sad stuff.
After the day of operating (which ends earlier without room turnover time) we stopped at a bank because Dr. Wagner wanted to close out his Peruvian account. Bill (a really nice 4th year resident from Mayo) and I are sitting in the lobby when these two dudes in line start verbally abusing one another in Spanish and start pushing each other. The security guards (who pack a lot more heat than their counterparts in the states and even wear bullet-proof vests) came to the rescue, but one guy did end up with a bloody nose. Bill decides to document the event via video on his camera and the rent-a-cops with guns come over and start yelling at him to delete the video. Apparently that's not allowed here.
Let's try not to get arrested in a foreign country, Bill.
Today was the first day I've been to the hospital, Dos de Mayo. It doesn't look like much from the street where the main entrance is, just a blue facade about 2 stories high, but inside it was all hustle and bustle and apparently it's a 500-bed hospital. There are courtyards connecting the different areas, and the wards are open-air. Like Civil War-style. We did 3 ear surgeries today, and the first two only used LOCAL ANESTHESIA. For actual surgery. Mind = blown. It worked surprisingly well, except for when the patient would move a little, and then they'd get yelled at ("no moviendo!" or something like that). The time between cases was precisely equal to the amount of time it takes to wheel the first patient out and the next one in. Operating rooms run a heck of a lot faster without an hour of room turnover time. Mind = blown again. I'm not sure how that jives with the whole sterility issue, but hey, things got wiped down with alcohol puro (mmm... Smells like undergrad). At least I know I wiped down the microscope (they don't have those complicated plastic drape-y thing specifically for the scope here. You may know it as the one the med student gets warned on penalty of death not to touch). I also mixed said local anesthetic (9 parts lidocaine to one part epi. Hope I did it right). Scrub gowns are made of heavy cloth instead of disposable paper and are sweltering, but I did get to close on the last case of the day, so hooray. We also decided the last patient was likely Turners Syndrome, as she was approximately 3'11" and had what looked like a shield chest to me. The pathology in the cases here is so much more advanced than anything I've seen so far in the states because there isn't access to regular ENT surgery for so many people. Sad stuff.
After the day of operating (which ends earlier without room turnover time) we stopped at a bank because Dr. Wagner wanted to close out his Peruvian account. Bill (a really nice 4th year resident from Mayo) and I are sitting in the lobby when these two dudes in line start verbally abusing one another in Spanish and start pushing each other. The security guards (who pack a lot more heat than their counterparts in the states and even wear bullet-proof vests) came to the rescue, but one guy did end up with a bloody nose. Bill decides to document the event via video on his camera and the rent-a-cops with guns come over and start yelling at him to delete the video. Apparently that's not allowed here.
Let's try not to get arrested in a foreign country, Bill.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Peru Day 1: Travel misadventures, or how I ended up in the Dominican Republic illegally(?)…
…because I’m fairly certain I never actually went through customs. But more on that later. The day started off well enough; my 6:20am flight from Columbus to Miami was wonderfully on time. We made one circular, aerial tour of Columbus before banking to the Southeast, at which point I pulled my shade down and dozed off for a few minutes, until the flight attendant brought around the beverage cart and I got some coffee (of which I only spilled a little on myself). We landed in Miami, where the humid, rainy weather immediately made my hair like Monica’s in the episode of Friends where they travel to Barbados for Ross’s conference. I found the gate for my next flight, a connecting flight to Santo Domingo, after walking what seemed like the entire length of the Miami airport (and both gates were in the “D” terminal… I cannot fathom how far away the other terminals were, since I even had to take the skytrain one stop to get between D60 and D23. I proceeded to hunker down for a couple of hours, eat some Second Breakfast, call my mom one last time while still in the States, and do some people watching (airports are possibly the best place for this). I hung up in plenty of time to be ready for boarding, which included almost an hour of “we’ve changed aircraft models and the seats aren’t the same, so everyone has to re-check in” before we never actually boarded the plane. Apparently there was a maintenance issue that couldn’t be resolved (aka the plane was brok’d), and after a long wait, they assigned us a new gate number (back on that skytrain), a new plane, and a new departure time. My layover in Santo Domingo had now shrunk from a comfortable 2 hours, 40 minutes to 50 minutes. Which still should have been fine, provided we took off promptly after boarding, and maybe my luggage would even get there too. We didn’t. Take off promptly I mean. We sat on the tarmac while they transferred all luggage from the first plane to the second, while I furiously sent emails to my contacts in Peru and texts to my mom, alerting them to the issue. Still, there was a chance I would make it: the connecting flight was to take 1 hour, 40 minutes. If that was accurate, I’d have 15 minutes to make my flight to Lima and maybe I’d see my luggage the next day.
When we finally landed in Santo Domingo at 5:05 pm (my flight to Lima scheduled to depart at 5:15), it looked pretty hopeless, but was still worth a try. I tried to get up and out of my seat as quickly as possible. I made it about 6 rows forward before everyone stood up to get all their crap (which I’ll never really understand, since you can’t even stand fully upright, and there’s no chance you’re moving anywhere until the plane starts to clear out, but I digress). I had told the flight attendants about my situation during the flight, and was attempting to make my way forward, when a woman just behind me in a yellow cardigan shouted, “tengo connecion! Scuso!” I turned around. “Lima?” I asked, “me too!” “Tambien?” she returned. “Si!” We miraculously made our way forward, but I didn’t really know where to go once we deboarded, so I followed Yellow Cardigan as we attempted to locate our next gate and ascertain whether the flight had already left. We were directed down to Baggage Claim, where we rushed up to the American Airlines desk and Yellow Cardigan proceeded to explain our situation in rapid Spanish (at this point, I’m wishing I knew a lick of the language more than ever). Then we get the news: the flight has already left. But there is another flight on Copa Airlines leaving in less than an hour for Panama City, where we could catch yet another flight to Lima. We collected our luggage as quickly as possible (and I have no idea how long Yellow Cardigan) was in the states, but she had 3 large bags that could probably have contained several bodies, had she been so inclined). And then customs was in our way (we needed to go to the American Airlines check-in desk to see if we could actually get our flight changed).
I followed Yellow Cardigan as she half-ran, pushing her cart full of luggage containing hopefully-not-bodies as she again said something in Spanish about a connection and that we needed to get through quickly, por favor! And somehow, they let us through. They took our immigration papers they’d handed out on the plane (which I don’t think Yellow Cardigan had actually filled out), and sent us on our way.
Long story, short, we didn’t make that Copa flight. American Airlines put us up in a nearby hotel for the night. Santo Domingo is right on the Caribbean, and during the cab ride to the hotel, I was struck by, other than the palm trees, how much it looked like home in the dark, with the lights of the town lining the bay. Yellow Cardigan woman (whose name was actually Rosa) was really very nice and helpful. I'm glad I ran into her. Now it’s Travel to Peru: Round 2, and I’m back in the Santo Domingo airport typing this (but it won't be posted until later, when I have the internets) about to fly to Panama City and then to Lima, after my second day in a row of a 4am wake up call. Let’s hope the second time’s the charm.
When we finally landed in Santo Domingo at 5:05 pm (my flight to Lima scheduled to depart at 5:15), it looked pretty hopeless, but was still worth a try. I tried to get up and out of my seat as quickly as possible. I made it about 6 rows forward before everyone stood up to get all their crap (which I’ll never really understand, since you can’t even stand fully upright, and there’s no chance you’re moving anywhere until the plane starts to clear out, but I digress). I had told the flight attendants about my situation during the flight, and was attempting to make my way forward, when a woman just behind me in a yellow cardigan shouted, “tengo connecion! Scuso!” I turned around. “Lima?” I asked, “me too!” “Tambien?” she returned. “Si!” We miraculously made our way forward, but I didn’t really know where to go once we deboarded, so I followed Yellow Cardigan as we attempted to locate our next gate and ascertain whether the flight had already left. We were directed down to Baggage Claim, where we rushed up to the American Airlines desk and Yellow Cardigan proceeded to explain our situation in rapid Spanish (at this point, I’m wishing I knew a lick of the language more than ever). Then we get the news: the flight has already left. But there is another flight on Copa Airlines leaving in less than an hour for Panama City, where we could catch yet another flight to Lima. We collected our luggage as quickly as possible (and I have no idea how long Yellow Cardigan) was in the states, but she had 3 large bags that could probably have contained several bodies, had she been so inclined). And then customs was in our way (we needed to go to the American Airlines check-in desk to see if we could actually get our flight changed).
I followed Yellow Cardigan as she half-ran, pushing her cart full of luggage containing hopefully-not-bodies as she again said something in Spanish about a connection and that we needed to get through quickly, por favor! And somehow, they let us through. They took our immigration papers they’d handed out on the plane (which I don’t think Yellow Cardigan had actually filled out), and sent us on our way.
Long story, short, we didn’t make that Copa flight. American Airlines put us up in a nearby hotel for the night. Santo Domingo is right on the Caribbean, and during the cab ride to the hotel, I was struck by, other than the palm trees, how much it looked like home in the dark, with the lights of the town lining the bay. Yellow Cardigan woman (whose name was actually Rosa) was really very nice and helpful. I'm glad I ran into her. Now it’s Travel to Peru: Round 2, and I’m back in the Santo Domingo airport typing this (but it won't be posted until later, when I have the internets) about to fly to Panama City and then to Lima, after my second day in a row of a 4am wake up call. Let’s hope the second time’s the charm.
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