After a record setting day at Albany the fatigue seem to creep over us like a fog. We were all a bit more reserved on the trip back to the hotel, but it was a fatigue well earned. The third clinic day is often like the third quarter in a football game. You have lost the adrenaline surge of the first half and don’t yet have the finality of the last quarter. We knew this was a common feeling as our team leader had prepared us that morning for the emotionally challenging day. Often it is in the quiet of the routine that frustrations arise, yet our team marched forward on that busiest of busy days to remember why we were there. The service attitude never faltered, and for that I am most proud. We arrived at the Galina Breeze for dinner and enjoyed another Jamaican version of the S and S cafeteria. One of the team members had mentioned to Marla that the Country Music Awards were on in the States that evening and Lady Antebellum, with their strong Augusta connection, was up for seven awards. The normal ban on television was lifted and we decided to have our own CMA party surrounding the pool at the lower level of the hotel. Jesse and the hotel staff rigged up a TV and a makeshift sound system to ready the revelers. We all knew that Angie, mother of chief song writer and musical instrument aficionado Dave, had sacrificed a trip to Las Vegas and the red carpet to be with us on the island. Amy, a physical therapist and head team sneak, thought it a shame that Angie miss the red carpet experience (as Dave had asked her to the event as his date) so she schemed to have our own little red carpet in Jamaica. As Angie was getting dressed to watch the program with all of us, Amy found a red bath mat and brought it out and laid it on the ground in front of the TV. Angie emerged from her room to the flashes of countless cell phone cameras and applause of the masses. Mission Mike, our resident comedian and Abbeville ambassador, took the spotlight and interviewed Angie about her choice of attire for the nights festivities.
“Why, I am wearing a designer scrub suit from Dior and my jewelry is Tar’get. I took a shower yesterday and my socks are three days old. Thank you all.Thank you very much!”
The team loved it and the celebration continued as her son’s group won record of the year and group of the year! Again I was struck by the contrast of the night. After a days work with some of the poorest of the poor we were watching a gathering of some of the richest. I realized that it was all good. There was no guilt, no false piety about how good we were and how superficial they were. It was all good. Each of us has gifts and graces and what is important is how we use those. Some can hold a hand and wipe a runny nose, and that is good. Some can write and perform music that touches hearts and souls, and that is good. We all are blessed in some way and the key is figuring out how to apply that in a meaningful manner. Transforming lives takes many roads, and no one journey is any less meaningful than another. We discovered that week that each of us had different things to offer. One of the biggest concerns of a few of the folks who were non medical was of what use could they be. As it turns out each non medical person played a vital role in the organism that was this team. This living beast would have shriveled up and died if it wasn’t for each person doing their part. The ladies at registration were amazing at organizing the crowds, but more importantly setting the tone for the encounter. Their loving, compassionate ways, even in the face of oppressive crowds and minimal facilities said loud and clear that we were there to serve and to care. Once the patients passed through registration they were greeted by our triage team. These gifted nurses had the unenviable task of consolidating the patients problems into manageable tasks. They proved to be critical to the providers as they weaned the problem list to two or three major complaints and then pursued those issues with the persistence of a pit bull after a postman. And they did it with grace and humility and with respect for each person’s dignity. A quarterback knows that he is only as good as his offensive line, and we had some of the best blocking for us. I don’t mean to imply that our triage nurses were all 6 foot 8 and 325 pounds. They most certainly were not, but they were as vital to the operation as a lineman is to a winning team.
That evening we learned that our medicine bags had been released after much gnashing of teeth and greasing of palms. We had brought in about $3500 worth of antibiotics, anti hypertensives, diabetic meds and a host of creams and antihistamines
and now we would have access to them for our last clinic day. Retrieving them was indeed a blessing yet we had not suffered at all in our service during the first three clinics. It was as if God had showered manna from heaven as our small pharmacy/storage closet at the Galina had just the right stuff we needed and in quantities to assure unbroken care. I am convinced our two pharmacists had a hot line to heaven as this was only one of the miracles the pharmacy perpetuated during the trip. Jenny, from Augusta, and Joyce, from Texas, had never met before this trip but became two efficient peas in a pod when it came to organizing the drug supplies pharmacy. A critical component of our mission is treating chronic diseases such as hypertension and diabetes, and much of this involves education and medicines. Without a proper distribution system and supplies we are about as effective as a screen door on a submarine. The entire pharmacy team not only raised the bar for quality and productivity, but they often did it in the dark! The first day the pharmacy was literally in a no-light zone due to the physical constraints of the building. It must have felt like working in London during the blackout to quell the Nazi air raids. Yet they lit up the room with their smiles and laughter and made sure I didn’t give my patient with hypertension a yeast pill by mistake. Her blood pressure might skyrocket but she certainly wouldn’t itch!
“Why, I am wearing a designer scrub suit from Dior and my jewelry is Tar’get. I took a shower yesterday and my socks are three days old. Thank you all.Thank you very much!”
The team loved it and the celebration continued as her son’s group won record of the year and group of the year! Again I was struck by the contrast of the night. After a days work with some of the poorest of the poor we were watching a gathering of some of the richest. I realized that it was all good. There was no guilt, no false piety about how good we were and how superficial they were. It was all good. Each of us has gifts and graces and what is important is how we use those. Some can hold a hand and wipe a runny nose, and that is good. Some can write and perform music that touches hearts and souls, and that is good. We all are blessed in some way and the key is figuring out how to apply that in a meaningful manner. Transforming lives takes many roads, and no one journey is any less meaningful than another. We discovered that week that each of us had different things to offer. One of the biggest concerns of a few of the folks who were non medical was of what use could they be. As it turns out each non medical person played a vital role in the organism that was this team. This living beast would have shriveled up and died if it wasn’t for each person doing their part. The ladies at registration were amazing at organizing the crowds, but more importantly setting the tone for the encounter. Their loving, compassionate ways, even in the face of oppressive crowds and minimal facilities said loud and clear that we were there to serve and to care. Once the patients passed through registration they were greeted by our triage team. These gifted nurses had the unenviable task of consolidating the patients problems into manageable tasks. They proved to be critical to the providers as they weaned the problem list to two or three major complaints and then pursued those issues with the persistence of a pit bull after a postman. And they did it with grace and humility and with respect for each person’s dignity. A quarterback knows that he is only as good as his offensive line, and we had some of the best blocking for us. I don’t mean to imply that our triage nurses were all 6 foot 8 and 325 pounds. They most certainly were not, but they were as vital to the operation as a lineman is to a winning team.
That evening we learned that our medicine bags had been released after much gnashing of teeth and greasing of palms. We had brought in about $3500 worth of antibiotics, anti hypertensives, diabetic meds and a host of creams and antihistamines
and now we would have access to them for our last clinic day. Retrieving them was indeed a blessing yet we had not suffered at all in our service during the first three clinics. It was as if God had showered manna from heaven as our small pharmacy/storage closet at the Galina had just the right stuff we needed and in quantities to assure unbroken care. I am convinced our two pharmacists had a hot line to heaven as this was only one of the miracles the pharmacy perpetuated during the trip. Jenny, from Augusta, and Joyce, from Texas, had never met before this trip but became two efficient peas in a pod when it came to organizing the drug supplies pharmacy. A critical component of our mission is treating chronic diseases such as hypertension and diabetes, and much of this involves education and medicines. Without a proper distribution system and supplies we are about as effective as a screen door on a submarine. The entire pharmacy team not only raised the bar for quality and productivity, but they often did it in the dark! The first day the pharmacy was literally in a no-light zone due to the physical constraints of the building. It must have felt like working in London during the blackout to quell the Nazi air raids. Yet they lit up the room with their smiles and laughter and made sure I didn’t give my patient with hypertension a yeast pill by mistake. Her blood pressure might skyrocket but she certainly wouldn’t itch!
