Day off

February 11, 2015 – Today, I went to the beach. Five of us did, in fact. My first real day off since starting training in Boston 13 days ago (although I’ve been in training for almost all the time since, so – lower stress than actually working).

I didn’t realize how nice it would be to get a day off. But I’ve been feeling a bit “under the weather” – headache; tired; GI stuff; sleeping poorly; then, last night, heartburn all night (something I almost never get). Thankfully no fever! Anyway, I was feeling that way all the way to the beach – but by mid-day, after a 40-minute swim in the lovely cool water, I felt more relaxed than I have in days, and – didn’t feel under the weather any more. I guess I needed it.

What to say about the beach except it’s beautiful? Sierra Leone wants to develop tourism – in 2012, they had, I think, 37,000 visitors (i.e., a tiny number), and – once the cloud of Ebola lifts; nothing will happen before then – there is a lot here people could be interested in visiting. We were at Bureh beach (named after Bai Bureh, the local hero who defied the British-imposed “hut tax” at the end of the 19^th century – a Salonean John Adams!). Apparently, River No. 2 Beach (don’t ask – I don’t know) is even nicer, but it is impossible to get to (if you value your car’s undercarriage) without going through Freetown, which would add hours to the trip.

For lunch, the guys who run the little beach restaurant offered lobster, which, once we had ordered, they went out in a boat to get – we saw them carrying the catch up to the kitchen an hour or so before they served it (see photo). The other option was barracuda. Those who know me well will know that neither of these would be my first pick, but I have to say – the barracuda must have been equally fresh, because it is maybe the least fishy fish I have ever tasted.

I had such a nice encounter with some fishermen. I was walking up the beach toward where they were loading nets onto their boat. Ordinarily, I might have kept my distance – I have a painful shyness about making other people’s lives my “experiences.” I’m not sure this is really necessary – I mean, I wouldn’t mind if people visiting New York watched me with curiosity (not that they do!). Also, why do I think that I would matter enough to strangers even to bother them? But, anyway – for some reason, today I just wanted to keep walking toward where they were working; to challenge my shyness. And, as I got within shouting distance, one of them called to me and waved me over. They were trying to get the boat off the beach and into the surf, and they needed an extra hand. So I trotted over to the stern, put my IPhone onto a gunwale (!), and leaned in. They had this singing call they started whenever enough surf was coming it that they thought they might be able to float the boat; shortly after they began the song, we would all dig in and start pushing. After three or four rounds of this, we got it into the surf, at which point they said “Okay – enough – thank you!”, echoed by a couple of smiling women who were with them on the beach. After all the questioning – am I doing something useful here, do they want me here, is this just my adventure, is this another form of colonialism somehow, etc., etc., it was nice just to be able to help some guys get their boat into the water and be thanked for it. (Okay, I need to get out of my head more, I know, I get it…!)

I feel really ready to get back into the unit tomorrow. With each passing day, I feel more like I know what I’m doing, and more and more eager to do it well. I found out today that two women – a mother and a daughter, both adults – who are in the “confirmed” ward and whom I was taking care of yesterday (my first actual day treating patients) both appear to be doing better. This is NO GUARANTEE – people sometimes seem to be doing better and then die in the night – but it is heartening nevertheless. I so want them to recover; I want to get in there and do the best I can for them.

The head of the team of Cuban doctors with whom we are working said something funny and lovely yesterday, by way of counseling us new folks to take our time, pay attention, and listen. He said, “In two weeks, you will be the experts in Ebola care – but you aren’t the experts yet!” My experience confirmed the second part – I made at least two mistakes yesterday (ordinary mistakes, but still), and I also am kind of in awe of the commitment and depth of knowledge, so much larger than my own, of my colleagues, all of whom have been doctors or nurses longer than I have. But oddly enough, I can also start to believe the first part – can imagine that, two weeks from now, I will be the one informing and guiding the new arrivals, and doing it well. Another instance of that feeling of teamwork here – of participating in something larger than ourselves? – which is so remarkably satisfying.