“How was it?” How in the world do I answer that question?

“How was it?”
How in the world do I answer that?

My crazy life has once again swallowed me whole. I’m back to my precious family and friends, back to my private patients and running my business, back on the road constantly for my son’s travel soccer, back to reality.

The question I am asked daily is “How was it?” Three simple words that I struggle to answer. How do I condense two weeks of a life-altering medical mission into a polite social response? The answer is… I can’t. I understand now why people say catch phrases like “It’s life changing” and “You just have to experience it yourself”. It is impossible for me to convey something so profound in a few minutes, so I end up not saying much at all. Then I feel like I’ve let people down.

Believe it or not the BIG lesson is actually very clear and concise, even though my pediatric nurse persona and my hospice nurse persona are in conflict over a few ethical questions (I’ll address those two issues in a future post). But I’m not being asked what life lesson I learned or what ethical questions were raised. People want to know “How was it?” “It” ran the emotional gamut.

There was bad…

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it was kinda frightening. It was eerily quiet during the hartals (public strikes). But the silence was better than the loudspeaker propaganda. You didn’t have to understand the language to know that the tone was hostile and threatening. I never really felt unsafe, but the whole train/car bombing/mass protest/people being killed thing was unnerving at times.

This is what the front page of the paper looked like most days.

It didn’t give me much comfort when the hospital folks said that there was no need to worry, because the protests were going on in the front of the hospital, and we were in the back. Neither did the swarm of military helicopters I could see, or the fact that I could hear the angry shouting mob when I stepped outside the Recovery Room. We all owe a tremendous thank you to the Gulshan Lake Rotary club, the staff of the Eastern Residence Hotel, hospital security, the city police and the Bangladesh military for protecting us.

A few of our protectors.

It was heartwrenching watching families being turned away because they didn’t qualify or because they were so severe we couldn’t safely operate on them. Considering I’ve never seen a person that is unable to get medical care, it was difficult to come to terms with how their medical system works. I understand why it has to work as it does. I can not tell you the monumental respect that I have for the hospital staff, from the doctors to the cleaning ladies, that show up everyday and deal with impossible situation after impossible situation. I fully believe it would crush me. One of the local surgeons said to me, “Come here and work for 6 months and you will no longer cry.” I’ve been unabashedly crying over patients for 23 years. The day I can’t cry is the day I need to leave nursing.

EVERYTHING was recycled at Shishu including gloves and gauze.

Speaking of crying, I’m still not able to put into words having to walk away from Tonya the day before we left. I’m trying to find out what happened with her sister (the burn victim) but haven’t had any luck so far.

On to the good…

It was extraordinarily cool. How often to you get to hang out with a US Ambassador and the wonderful staffers that have dedicated their lives to bridging peace and watching over the visiting US citizens? I’ve never before been asked to a Chargé D’Affairs house for drinks. And on our last night, there was a dance troupe from New York City that happened to be performing. We were honored to be guests of the Ambassador and sit on the front row of the theater with photographers taking our pictures like we were somebody important.

Ambassador Mozena…The US Ambassador to Bangladesh.

It was bizarre feeling on display like a panda in the zoo. People would stand in front of us and stare. They were constantly taking our pictures. I had many a kid shoved at me and a picture taken before I could react. I had people walk up and touch me, my skin, my face, my hair. They didn’t worry about people’s personal space.

I gave and received a lot of hugs.

It was profound to be so readily accepted in to a country and culture so different from my own. To work side by side with people that it was difficult, if not impossible, to communicate with if there was no interpreter. To have non-cleft palate families handing me their sick babies because they believed I could some how help them. I couldn’t even explain to them my inability to help, all I could do was hug them, shake my head no, and walk away. I formed true relationships with people that I will never forget. Many of whom I call friends now.

On the ward.

Hard at work in the OR.

It was miraculous, the transformation of faces was absolutely miraculous. Somehow I ended up a small part of an incredible Alliance for Smiles team of highly skilled and amazingly humble people that selflessly dedicated two weeks of their lives to completely change the lives of these courageous children and their families. I saw children with horrible deformities look whole after surgery. The best part was that I didn’t have to leave wondering if we made a difference, because it was as plain as the beautiful new smile on their face!

Cleft palate repair. So pretty!

Now when people ask “How was it?” I still don’t have a short dramatic response to answer the question. So like everyone else, I guess I’m stuck with, “It was life changing. Everyone should experience it for themselves.” It doesn’t tell the story, but it sure is the truth.

Thank you world!

In 48 hours I had 900 followers in 7 countries and 1200 views. This response completely blows me away. I am shocked, humbled, and profoundly grateful for all of you. In this world, where we are bombarded with endless negativity, it is inspirational to know that so many people care. I thank you for your time, your kind words and your continued support.

This is all Barbara’s fault!

This is all Barbara’s fault!

We moved to Cartersville in 2004. That’s when I met one of my dear friends Barbara. She and I have been running together for almost 10 years. Every Tuesday she would start earlier, most of the time without me. 5:30am was already WAY earlier than I wanted to be up, but she had to get to Rotary by 7:30am.

Let’s face it, when anyone mentions Rotary the first thing that comes to mind is a bunch of stuffy old business men, in starched suits, sitting around listening to a monotone speaker and discussing all the rigid rules of Rotary. And heaven help you if you missed a meeting! I was convinced there was a secret Rotary dungeon where they would tie you to a post and beat you if you were unable to attend.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The top reasons people join Rotary are…

1. Business Development (This should be last, in my opinion.)
2. Friendship
3. Citizenship
4. Service

I was a hospice nurse working sometimes 60 hours a week when I broke down and attended my first meeting. It seemed like the thing to do, and if Barb was a part of it…surely it couldn’t be all that bad. Not only was it not that bad, it was life changing.

I hate stereotypes, so let me dispel a few myths.

1. No stuffy old men. My club’s members range in age from 20s to 60s.

2. You are not required to wear a starched suit. In fact, you can actually wear jeans. I frequently show up in scrubs when I’m seeing patients.

3. No monotone speakers. Members rotate bringing speakers. Not only are they not dull, they are informative, interesting and entertaining. We even had a hypnotist speak to us not long ago.

4. There are rules. There always are. But the 4 Way Pledge of the things we think, say or do is more like the golden rule and very simple: Is it the truth? Is it fair to all concerned? Will it build good will and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned? Trust me, if everyone lived by these rules, the world would be a much better place!

5. There are no dungeons. In fact you CAN miss a meeting. All you have to do is make it up by attending another Rotary club, reading informative articles online or performing service activities. I figure 2 weeks in Bangladesh gives me make-ups for life!

So here I am 2 years later, proud to call myself a Rotarian. I give my time to Rotary. I sit on the Board. I show up (most) Tuesdays. I attend the functions. I spontaneously volunteer to go on a 2 week medical mission trip to Bangladesh. Why, you ask?

1. I have established the most incredible friendships that will last a lifetime. My friends are precious to me, and I don’t know what I would do without them.

2. Rotary has given me the chance to become a participating member of my community.

3. Now I truly have the opportunity to “fix things” on a local, state, national and WORLD level!

4. Without the support, help and advice of many members I would have never had the guts to go out on a limb and start my own patient advocacy business.

The simple truth is this: Rotary, and the amazing people in Rotary, give me far more than I could ever give back.

So this is clearly all Barbara’s fault! I can’t thank her enough. And in the next few weeks, I CAN NOT WAIT to see how Rotary will continue to change my life.