Well, I (Tracy)
was looking for something a bit out of the ordinary to occupy myself with, so I
thought I’d try my hand at paediatric surgery…
Marina Bahia
Redonda has for the last few years managed to rustle up some volunteers to help
the Fundamigos project which runs surgery “missions” where surgeons from other
countries come over for a few days of intensive plastic surgery facial
operations for a variety of conditions, but mostly cleft lip and palate, which
are very common in developing countries like Venezuela. Children travel from all over the
country for a chance of treatment.
Working alongside local surgeons they take over part of the local
hospital and operate on approximately 60 to 90 patients, mostly children, in 3
days. There is very little in the
way of resources so they bring their own equipment and whatever else is needed
is bought with donations and fund raising.
In the build up
to the operations we spent quite a few mornings making packs of gauzes to be
used in the operations. Fiddly work
but we soon got quite quick at it, knocking out what seemed like hundreds of the
things and wrapping them in brown paper for sterilizing later. Sheets and towels were also made for the
children to use in the wards (I did say there wasn’t much equipment at the
hospital).
There were three
areas in which you could help; the “Caminita” (or Little Way) which fed
everybody from dawn to dusk, the “Third Floor” (on the third floor!) where
children were staying before and after surgery, or the surgery itself.
Those of us who
hadn’t volunteered in previous years were taken to the hospital for a days
training in the procedures for surgery back up, and, keen to find out more, off
I trot to watch operations and learn what our duties might be on the day. Once we’re togged up in all the gear
it’s straight into the fray.
It’s not often
you get the chance to stand behind a plastic surgeon whilst she knocks someone’s
broken cheekbone back into shape with a hammer and chisel, then screws it
together with her Black and Decker.
Fascinating
stuff and not as un-watchable as I’d anticipated but the condition of the
hospital was a real eye opener for this softy Westerner. I know this is a very
poor country in many ways, and it turns out healthcare for the masses is one of
them. Call me old fashioned but a
certain level of cleanliness and maintenance goes a long way in a hospital. I’ll spare you the details; I’m sure you
can imagine it. To be honest, a lot of care was taken at the table to maintain
sterility etc but once we had the tour of duty for the clean up between
operations I was fairly certain I would be better suited to peeling sacks of
spuds than emptying bottles of blood and goo and washing pointy instruments in a
bowl of fairy liquid with a nail brush.
All the staff were very friendly and caring, especially in telling us not
to let the instruments out of our sight for a second or they would be
stolen!
Not me I’m
afraid, but Terri from yacht “Ishi” demonstrating said bottle-emptying down open
drain in the floor, and mopping up what didn’t make it into the bottle. Picture quality not good enough for the
full hygiene horror story in the sluice room.
The surgeons and
theatre staff all worked from 7am to at least 10pm. We were brought in to work 2 shifts so
it was not quite so arduous for us.
Amusing hairnets are worn especially for the occasion – apparently it is
a well know medical fact that seeing your surgeon sporting a cap covered in cute
cows or bunnies goes a long way to reducing pre op stress.
Here’s one of
the surgeons taking a well-earned rest in the corridor. Please note enterprising use of shopping
trolley to house supplies (normal practice – no special favours for the
mission). Also, sheet made by
volunteers about to be deployed.
Anyway, to get
to the important bit – me. The
Caminita is really the hub of the whole business, with people constantly
drifting in and out in need of nourishment. Here various food related tasks were
undertaken by us, most notably butchering, I mean operating on, 30 slightly
wiffy chickens into tiny pieces al fresco in temperatures more suited to saunas
than keeping meat fresh. Myself and
other volunteers from yacht “Magic Moment” can be seen making one hundred (more
or less, we lost count) cheese and ham rolls for the night shift whilst seated
at miniature furniture, as the Caminita is housed temporarily in a primary
school. I didn’t imagine I would come home each night complaining of knee
ache! We were ably assisted
by the Boy Scouts, who don’t look anything like I remember…
This area is run
by a fantastic dentist called Maggie who effortlessly and charmingly organises
everything and still finds time to entertains everybody with her beautiful
singing and by dressing up in silly outfits.
I was glad to
have to been involved in some thing like this, even contributing as little as I
did by just mucking out in the kitchen. The people who run it are all dedicated
to making a difference to the lives of these little kids who suffer a lot
through not getting treatment for a condition that is readily corrected by
simple surgery at three months of age in more developed countries. Getting away from the confines of the
marina and into the real world certainly brought a different dimension to the
stay in Venezuela.
What it’s all
about.
Photos courtesy
of Ellen B Sanpere, yacht “Cayenne 3”
