Complicated entry:
Ha. So I’m here with Trevor trying to recall yesterday and the day before – yes, be shocked, I am a slacker. It turns out that when you are running on empty, with no free time, dehydrated and sleep deprived, blogging is the last thing on your mind. So, chronologically, it should all be in order, but know that this is me remembering, so it’ll be shorter.
Sunday:
Today was a calm day with the fifth years. Today’s Bedside teaching was on musculoskeletal issues and arthritis in children. The fifth years really do know more about pathology than we do, but I know physical exam skills like no one’s business. They are awkward, didn’t even know how to find the joint line at the knee, and did the range of motion tests in a fast manner, but not in a good way. It was a scratch your back, squat and wave – sort of exam. How will you tell what joint is sick? Anyhow, they’re just learning the clinical application of everything. At lunch I ate less, finally, then was going to head to class when I stopped by with Kumait at rounds with Dr. Saif. I had been looking for him earlier, but apparently rounds were moved to the afternoon. Kumait and I skipped classes and instead say many patients and talked about meningitis, ear infections, etc. OH! I finally met Dr. Alex – a nice, very tall, indian gentlemen. He set me up with Surgery, the Clinic and who knows what else. I plan to utilize his helpfulness to the max – he’s so generous! After coming home, Claire and I went to the store, then Musleh came to pick us up and take us to the Souk at Seeb. Streets simply lined with clothing, gold and accessory stores. I love the gold here – their styles are so swirly, delicate, asymmetrical and nature-themed. Some have hearts (which I don’t ever wear) but in general, I loved every piece. I found one bracelet that I simply adored and it was 170 Rials. At 2.6 to a dollar… it is a lot of USD… like $442. So, I didn’t get it. I just wanted it, lol. I feel bad spending time shopping when I’m with boys so we sort of just meandered… but I hope to actually find time to buy things here. I love the traditional merchandise here. Home late again. Little sleep. Oh well.
Monday:
Trevor – GI after teaching
Jess – Well I’m exhausted, lol. So sleepy in fact that in morning meeting today I was nodding off and a doctor kindly came and tapped on my desk with a loud “GOOD MORNING.” Yes, I am the American that fell asleep in your boring meeting… Greetings. And, he was a wonderful doctor that I met Tuesday…(yes… that’s tomorrow from this day, but I’m writing this Wednesday, ha.) But the meeting was insanely boring. The speakers were so quiet, I didn’t learn a thing, I didn’t hear a thing, I didn’t understand a thing. So pointless. It was in radiology and was about… something radiological. Oi. Then I went to Hemotology/Oncology (blood and cancer) and shadowed two doctors. One was incredible, one was less incredible. Saw a lot of patients, was starving much of the day, sort of learned some things, but not as much. The one incredible doctor brought me to a consult with other doctors to see the Tumor that was growing in this 3 month’s old skull. Thankfully, it was part of the parotid duct, and was only superficial. It didn’t appear to threaten the brain or arteries, though it was wrapping around the facial nerve. It was fascinating. They were able to make a 3D reconstruction of his face to see how it was attached to his ear, and it was so real. Technology is so incredible. Then, when I left and wandered with some 6th year girls and a woman doctor. They were nice, but seemed so stressed I didn’t really get taught much. Oh well. It meant I spent time with Kumait and his friends looking at patients that afternoon. Lunch was pretty awkward because I missed the main lunch hour and so missed my friends. Thankfully Trevor found me at the end and we went to the Peds ward, and then the internet and home.
Kumait came to get us at 4:15 and drove us to his house so he could change. We were going to play paintball. It’s something I was always excited to try, but never ended up doing. IT WAS AMAZING!!!! It was also amazingly hot. I sweated more in that outfit, under that sun, in the Omani desert, than I’m pretty sure I have all year. I’m a pretty good shot and enjoyed pelting my new friends. I felt bad though because my team had clearly worked together before (minus me) and so dominated every game – makes it much less fun… never the less… we went to shisha after (I’m so, so over shisha… and I’ve never done more than try the flavors… I hate it though). Good convo, excellent chicken in hummus, and an incredible drink called Lime-Mint Juice. It’s life changing. Then Musleh came with Margaux and we went to Mutrah Souq (souk). It is PHENOMENAL!!! Trevor finally got his traditional Omani men’s dress (the Dishdasha with Coma) and I looked at Abaya’s. I can’t decide what to do. I want to buy them for the sake of owning one and wearing it to GHI conferences, etc, but I can’t buy something I’ll wear once… So I need something I’d wear more than once for sure. We wandered through these twisted streets as the sky became covered by awnings, then a real wooden roof, then the streets became so thin we had to walk single file. This was called the Dark Market because the sun didn’t shine here through the shops and awnings. It was so neat. All cobble stones. All traditional Omani wear and merchandise. I loved it. We came as it was closing so we didn’t shop, but it was so very cool. As we were walking, it suddenly opened to a great atrium and we were at the sea. It was phenomenal. I can’t wait for you to see the pictures J. We then took Margaux back to the Royal Hospital and went home. Another late night, but a good one.
Tuesday:
Finally to today!!
So, after waking, I finally got to talk to Dr. Alex. I felt so bad about missing all of his calls yesterday (the phone had accidentally been left at home). I‘m not actually sure if I’ll ever shadow HIM though. He keeps sending me everywhere else, lol. Which is great, I mean, today was cool, but still – very interesting. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll go to the Heme/Onc Clinic day (which, I’m not actually sure about. I thought Heme/Onc was interesting, but the doctor teaching it was so slackerish in her teaching. I learned so much from one doctor ((SOON TO BE ADDED)) but she was quiet and unclear and I didn’t really learn – probably my fault. I didn’t really want to be there, honestly. I was tired, wasn’t learning, most of it was in Arabic and I was annoyed and hungry = bad combo. But… that was yesterday. Thanks to a text from Kumait, finding the “Operating Theatre” was relatively easy. Then I got in my scrubs and asked where to find Dr. Prakash. OT 2. Great. I went in, met the nursing staff, the anesthesiologists (wonderful) and one surgeon (less wonderful.) The Surgeon did a circumcision which was interesting to watch – I didn’t realize really how much skin the doctors take off, it’s amazing. He was quiet, spoke as if he was annoyed, kind of condescending and proud and so, we didn’t really click. I don’t really get along with people who try to correct the doctors they are working with all the time. Anyhow. Scrubbed in, held and cut stuff, learned nothing except that you must be very aware of any bleeding when doing this surgery. Great.
Then I went to go find the head nurse who earlier had given me a wonderful cup of water. I also tried to contact Dr. Saif, the pediatric endocrinologist, because I was supposed to be with him today. I felt horrible because I couldn’t find his number at all, and I’m bummed I missed out on his specialty. I’ve seen peds surgeries before and tomorrow I’m supposed to do heme/onc and I am skeptical it will be worth it. Maybe this is burnout. Anyhow, whilst in with the nurse, a breast surgeon comes in. We met him yesterday and I really enjoyed him! He was hilarious and enthusiastic and complementary of our Omani Med Student friends and so I really was having a good time talking to him. Then he made a couple dirty jokes amongst him and another doc, but I brushed it off because – he’s a surgeon, he’s a boy, and it happens. Then, as another doctor comes to talk to the nurse he asked if I had met him, saying no, he tells me that this is the head of the department (a pretty big whig, in other terms). So, I was simply excited to meet more doctors… and then something happened that I was pretty offended about. He turned to this other physician, and says “Hey, have you met this beautiful girl?” (I was complimented). “She wants to have your children.” (What??) “She came to me first, but then told me she wanted to have black babies, so I’m sending her to you.” (I was stunned) …. Wait. So, basically, you introduced me not as a student, not as a professional, not as a person with a bachelor’s degree and will soon be a doctor… but as a sexualized, walking talking uterus. ME: “Hello, renowned Surgeon. No, no. I have no merit or value except in my belittled identity as a woman. Not a capitalized Woman. But a meek, mild, moldable, mat-like, maiden who’s only hope at mattering is to play the role of penis receptacle in order bear YOUR children. I’m certain you respect me now as collegue and peer.” Needless to say… I was furious. One would never sexualize the first introduction of a man to a head surgeon in a way that made him inferior. One should never introduce a medical student to a physician as anything less than a respected future doctor and honored tutee. I could not imagine a similar situation with this physician, where I felt so belittled, if I had been a man. I am so proud of being a woman, but I think it comes with a cost sometimes.
There was a couple times yesterday when I was clearly treated as different for being a woman. Even one Omani male said “men and women are different; it’s just how it is. You can’t expect us to be the same.” Which is totally true, except in the manner he said it, in the context of the conversation, it was almost like a, “We’re different, but in a way that makes women less capable of the things men do” kind of way. And to be fair, I think women and men are programmed differently, perceive differently and process differently. I know some women AND men who have no business being in a war, but many who are not only capable, but excellent. I think that when they talk about Omani women being like princesses, I wonder if they really believe that to be how they are valued (aka, the daughter of a king, full of wealth and beauty and grace) OR if they believe that’s really all they are capable of. There were other instances that I don’t really want to go into – but the theme was, women aren’t strong enough, capable enough or like Men enough to be the same. Sincerely, I know that women, in general, are less physically strong than men (at least their upper body strength)… and I do believe in the policy that women shouldn’t be allowed in close combat situations, not that they aren’t capable or even willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but because the dynamic of the team would be polarized. Good men, being good men wouldn’t be focused only on the enemy ahead, but would also be concerned for the welfare of the woman at his flank – the instinct to protect our sisters, mothers, friends, wife’s, is a good one, and it’s this instinct that complicates and threatens these situations. Feel free to comment and disagree J. Anyway, anyway. I’m still kind of boiling about what the doctor said. I’m going to attribute it to… trying to be funny… in an inappropriate way… that triggered one of my MAJOR buttons. I was amped from yesterday, feeling put out because I am a woman, and perhaps that set the stage for explosion. Nice catalyst. In case you were wondering. I smiled and pretended that didn’t strike a chord. I also want to make a disclaimer – I believe that this situation could easily have happened in the US. This, I believe is not a commentary on Middle Eastern treatment of women. Yes, I have felt treated differently here than many places in the US because of my female status. And yes, some things bother me. But in general, the men are kind, treat me well and with great respect, and the doctors teach me so well. Actually, my least favorite day in the hospital was shadowing a woman doctor because of her lack of teaching. The other male doctors are my favorite, and incredible people. You can be a misogynistic, ignorant idiot, no matter the culture, location or speciality. But anyhow, moving on.
I shadowed Dr. Prakash today for a colon resection and colostomy reattachment. Basically, this baby girl had Hirschprung’s Syndrome where the last part of her colon doesn’t work at all (the autonomic ganglion didn’t migrate appropriately during embryonic development). So, they opened her up three months ago above her bellybutton and basically cut a hole through her colon (large intestine), attached it to the body wall and added a bag she could poop into. They then waited til today to finish the surgery and put her colon back together, cut out the dead part, and make her a new rectum and anus. They pulled her splenic flexure downwards, closing some of the mesenteric arteries along the way, to attach at the anus. Fascinating! It was really, really cool. And yet… because of some complications. I was standing over this patient from 9 to 3 straight, and would have been there til 5 probably because they were still attaching things.
We ran home, I ate and packed like crazy, and we went down stairs to be picked up. While waiting we saw another room because our drains sometimes smell like death and the bed bugs, but the room we saw was full of cigarette smoke. Worse… we stay. Then Kumait came… took us back to school and met with his friends – we switched cars and rode with Ahmed Hosmi in his FJ Cruiser. I’d never been in one, and it was spacious. The interior sort of reminds me of a Tonka truck, lol. We had an hour drive ahead of us and so we settled in to excellent music and cheerful conversation. A few stops at petrol stations, and we were almost there. Then we got a phone call and turned around. There was a bull fight. Yes, yes, a bull fight. But not a Matador, Spanish-style massacre, but a “put two bulls facing each other and see what happens” kind of fight. It was in the middle of a field and the only protection of the audience was the fact that two people held onto ropes that were attached to a hoof. Safe. However, it provided Claire and I some incredible opportunities for some serious creeping from our hideout in the car. We took some awesome candid photos, until, as they grabbed two bulls, we made our way to the side of the field. The charged, they grunted, one mounted, they kicked up dirt, they got bored. We left. I was honestly terrified that it’d be insanely inhumane and I’d be upset for days (being the animal/environment/life advocate I am, lol) but it wasn’t bad at all. It’s a little uncomfortable to me the sport of gathering to watch animals fight… it’s so selfish and odd to want to watch animals be hurt for the sake of your own entertainment… but it was an interesting cultural experience. :) I’m glad we went. We then drove until we hit the sea. It was sunset, and it was amazing. The sea was expansive and islands gracefully pushed out from the water. Some were topped with watch towers or forts. We got out, found a bathroom (aka porcelain hole in the ground), and hopped on a boat. We wandered the Gulf of Oman for maybe 30 minutes, in and out of the coves that cut into the rocky islands. The wind and water made beautiful art on the land, and there simply aren’t words to express the peace and beauty of that ride. We got back, Trevor got in the sea, and Claire and I looked on longingly. We were surrounded by Omani men, with no other westerners. I was not comfortable getting into the water in even a tank top and shorts, and I’m afraid that meant Claire didn’t get in either. I feel bad for her, but none of the other girls got in, no other westerner was there to make it seem more typical… and I didn’t want to get my dress completely soaked. But we stood in the water, enjoyed the ocean, admired the shells and watched the sun set over the sea. We then kicked around a futbol (soccer ball) and ate more mishkak. We talked, we laughed, we teased. Soon it was dark and the girls had to get back for curfew. The boys went to pray and then we headed home to the conversation of movies.
I have to say that I’m in the midst of a huge debate: Dehydration or Peeing in holes. Dehydration pros: you pee less, you sweat less… you pee less. Aka, less squatting over holes in water-rinsed (you hope) floors praying that your quads would stop burning. Who know that urination was such a workout. Cons: You are freaking dehydrated! Cue headaches, edema, fatigue and heat stroke. Excellent. I’ll let you know what I decide… I might go with mild dehydration… :) but maybe that will change.
On a much more serious note, I wanted to let you know about my perspectives of women here in Oman this week. The traditional Omani wedding was so very, very revealing. I saw facets of women that I had never seen before, interacting in a way I had only hoped for and never anticipated. It was traditional, so it was full of color. Bright colors, jewels, shiny accessories and beautiful dancing. But even the women in traditional black abayats had their own character and identity. I can now see the difference between the dresses, the styles, the little details that I had missed earlier. Under the abaya, often women will have bright and beautiful colors on. And even if they don’t, I’m now seeing their personalities and identities beam through their faces and interactions. The black can really be beautiful, and I could see myself, honestly, wearing them if I lived here – they are fashion statements and so it seems some of the colors and patterns are signs of old fashion or not keeping up with the Joneses. I also find this ironic (if it’s really true) because when I think Al Qaeda, or other suppressive regimes, I think black Burkahs (Burqa, really). Black – old and new? Suppression and expression? Freedom and Strength and Identity?? I don’t know. But if I had been deaf, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell if they were speaking English or Arabic – the facial expressions are the same, the physical language the same, the laughter the same. There are mild differences in the dance, or the physical proximity, but children are children or teens are teens or women are women. The love, they live. Their souls are not defined or limited by the colors or styles of their clothing. Their identity is not caught in the cotton that surrounds them. I think that the styles can be signs of suppression, that there are cases and reasons that I still might be offended about… but honestly, I need to meet more women, ask more women and seek out the reasons they wear the veil, reasons they wear the clothes, and try to feel out if it’s truly a free choice – or if it’s a cultural expectation that is helping them make the decision. I am no longer feeling like the women are in black bags, showing as much vulnerability as a brick wall (and demonstrating as much expressivity as one.) But I’ve met incredible women that cover their heads (Omani and American alike) and I know some women here who are so strong willed and sassy and brilliant. I’ve met a lot more quiet, meek, silent, mousy women here…. And especially around men, they squirm. I’d never survive without my guy friends, but growing up that way has come at some cost – I am domineering, guarded, aggressive – including physically, I really love to fight, I lead and I boss people around. Granted, I might have done that anyhow, but maybe I’d be more willing to be led by the man I love or be more gentle in general. Ack – a strong woman is a complicated thing. As a doctor – I must lead, direct and be verbally strong… but as a lover, while I will be strong, I want to have a stronger partner that I can let lead me too. Do I have to give up some power to allow his? Thoughts thoughts… Did I mention that the guy “walked down the aisle” to get his bride? I think that’s wonderful too. It was such a neat celebration and I like that he came to get her, to gather her and be with her and take her with him– stirs up my heart strings I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of American weddings, but American brides sometimes go overboard… Anyway. I love the people here, as a general rule. Man or woman, veiled or western, religious or otherwise, they are incredible, even if I sometimes take issue, disagree or am offended by with some conversations, events, beliefs or practices. They are a beautiful people. Come to Oman, you won't regret it
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