Home Sick, not to be confused with homesick.

I know I’m on the path to becoming a doctor but I still hate going to the doctor’s. After over a week of a sore throat and cough during the holidays, I was still holding strong. Until last night when I was abruptly woken up at 3am by an unbearably dry sore throat, cough, fever, and racing heart beat. I’m cranky when I don’t get sleep so off I went to make this go away.

The doc ordered a typical 5 day course of antibiotics

Day 1 – I feel worse, can barely talk without wanting to somehow shove ice down my throat to soothe it. This is going to be fun.

Probably the worst part is that this means I can’t work. I’m in the minority that actually hates calling in sick. Staying home is like admitting defeat. Part of me feels like I’m lying, screaming “Yeah you can work, you wimp, you’re just making excuses.” Will my boss think the same? Am I really not able to work today? Can I possibly work from home? …and you can see where this cycle goes. 

Short story, I’m a workaholic, I hate giving up when I could be doing something.

However, this is a whole different story. This week I was supposed to start in adult oncology. There is absolutely no way I’d set foot inside that door. Even if I put on a mask, viewed from afar, and took all precautions, it just doesn’t feel right. I came here to volunteer and learn, staying at home does nothing for me but even the slight risk of spreading an infection to a patient or health care team member far outweighs any benefit. Not just because this is a developing country, I recall feeling the same when calling in sick while volunteering at Brigham & Women’s Hospital in Boston. The workaholic in me caves when I realize it compromises the cost-benefit ratio. All those hours spent on CITI certifications has reinforced that nagging feeling of my conscience. If it was office paper work or school work, it would be different. If I were an essential member of the team, if it wasn’t a high risk immunocompromised patient population, if this wasn’t a third world country with high rates of infection, maybe I’d give it a second thought…? Probably not, but either way, right now, it’s just not happening. My conscience is pretty clear on that. 

Here comes five days in sweats, slurping piping hot chicken soup, endlessly gargling salt water, aimlessly trying to pass time. 

Broken Record

People always ask me why didn’t I just volunteer or work in the states for my last co-op. People from the states, people from here… it’s always the same question, my answer is usually something short and simple along the lines of learning about the culture and different health care systems. But sometimes I wonder that myself. Whenever I’m going through a rough patch (no, it’s not all fun and easy), I think why did I make things so much harder for myself, why am I here. Technology wise, I would learn a lot more in the U.S. I’d also learn more about the healthcare system I will one day be a part of. I would get to stay at home comfortably. It would be a lot easier, more convenient, more comfortable, less expensive, a lot less grant/scholarship writing…

I have already volunteered and worked in hospitals in the U.S. I have shadowed doctors, been a part of incredible research teams, got a chance to help patients and see what clinical care is like in the U.S. More experience is always better; however, I felt like something was missing.

I have this distinct memory of when I was younger in Nepal. We were going to the airport and there was a man lying in the street, visibly ill, jaundiced. I was quite young but I remember thinking, why is he yellow, he’s sick - why won’t anyone help him, shouldn’t someone call an ambulance? A policeman eventually took him away. I was in no position to help but couldn’t look away, wondering what would happen, if he would be okay, why didn’t anyone come rushing to help or call “911.” Whenever someone asks where my interest in tropical/third world medicine comes from, I think back to that moment. Even though I did not decide I was going to be a doctor until last year that vivid moment of curiosity stuck with me.

 

In my memory, I have never been exposed to anything less than the immaculate halls of Massachusetts General Hospital and Brigham & Women’s Hospital before now. BUT as a baby, I was admitted to Kanti Children’s Hospital, sick with pneumonia. It’s no less than amazing to be able to work in that same hospital. Sitting at the clinic, I imagine my mother frantically talking to the doctors trying to figure out what was wrong…

It was a very personal decision to do my last co-op here. Cultural immersion and exploration of my roots played a big role in my decision but I also needed to see what healthcare was like here. There is an enormous disparity between the states and developing countries and that is what I came here to see. As much as I might moan and groan about how easy it would’ve been to stay at home or maybe go to a nice tropical English speaking country with standards as pristine as its beaches, I continually remind myself that is not why I came here. I didn’t come here to be comfortable. I came here to challenge myself and hopefully learn a little something about my own culture and global health.

Who needs the tropics when you live on Long Island :)