last day

Last day

Mates im sad so fucking sad. Went around Nairobi today and it was sunny man, despite the throbbing mossy bite on my fore head, i had a wicked time. Went to Java cafe and had three course meal, wicked coffee. Shizzle the centre of Nairobi is wicked, everyone hanging out together, lots of biracial couples, its fucking brilliant. And i got there alone and got back alone. Travelling is amazing i feel like a sponge everything is something I wanna retain, my brain aint saturated yet, theres a whole world out there man, and I wanna see it not as a tourist but as a professional. I wanna make a change. Not in a Bono way, i mean on ground level, i refuse to send money to well meaning charities I wanna go and help out myself hands on shizzle. If it means being a surgeon and treating the untreatable, and I don’t mean curing shizzle i mean just improving peoples lives. Im excited, im at the start of this new journey, ive discovered what I wanna do and dya know what nothing else really matters ya know (well for now, i guess aint got back to London just yet). Theres this bloody great big world out their and medical skills are transferable, if i had the money and more time these next years i would be abroad, back in a frustrating African hospital, but knowing that everylittle helps.
Was reflecting through my pictures and man, ive had a real rollercoaster of a ride here. I think ive found the kid that im gonna adopt, this fucking sweet girl, er okay maybe i wont be adopting her as she has parents but her and Brian I just wanna steal and bring up here. Man I love these children, every single one of them, even the shits that scream white girl at me. Today in Nairobi, the city centre, the hubbub of wealth, were people look western, drive cars and do coffee, there were these two kids just begging for money and food from everyone and anyone. Really twists up my heart man.
So last week i did a lot with the surgeons, the most grim task of all was cleaning and the burns victims dressings. These men, mostly drunks had as a result of their addictions had managed to burn them selfs, the worst dressing to change was the complete back of these man who had pretty much burnt his skin to the muscle, it was so raw, bleeding, dead skin, puss, fuck it was so fucking grim. The flies were sitting on his wound as i cut of the dead skin. And the smell, the smell, lord. But the job had to be done for about 8 men every morning and afternoon. Its grim work. The men yelp and the sound of peeling bandages is grim. But they were brave and to be honest if my whole back had been burnt to the muscle, and i was in Africa, kill me mate. The infection from unmanaged wounds is PAINFUL and to be honest constant pain day and night without any pain relief Na mate.
There are lot of AIDS patients on the wards and man these men are in the throws of death. I hate to say it but im fascinated by it i cant describe this fascination without sounding a bit odd, but maybe if i put it this way, after delivering countless babies and seeing their first breath or helping resus babies and willing them to breathe, watching a person die is the end of the spectrum and if life is fascinating why cant death be also. We marvell at babies but recoil from the dying. Its all the same to me, process, one entering one leaving, i aint afraid of the dying if anything im more afraid of babies coming out blue and not breathing cos thats potential death without life. Im not sure where this is going but yeah the dying men on the ward are just there, not hidden nothing, a nation use to seeing the dying walk past them as if they are trees part of the Kenyan landscape. HIV such a clever virus hiding in the very cells that are responsible for detecting its presence.
The rest of my time in theatres was spent helping grafting skin, which is gruesome, if ya have a wound that wont heal, a kinda of potato peeler is used to peel a layer of skin from ya inner thigh, this skin is then sew on the area of raw skin that wound heal. Amazing stuff but mad to watch being done man.
I HATE SAYING GOODBYE and leaving the village was emotional, i gave all my household stuff to my neighbour, slept in my bed for the last time, ate my last meal, killed my last cockroach. The bus ride to Nairobi, 8 hours mate then an hour in a traffic jam in a taxi, frustrating especially when ya mind is on home.
Home, ah home, London, the big smoke its gonna be an adaption. Getting a bit emotional writing this so il finish it on the plane. But dono what more there is to say. The blogs below all detail my experiences they are what they are, if i can take anything away from these experience I can say that im not so lost anymore, medicine is my passion and to be honest i gotta focus more, study more and do my best cause only then I can really make a difference.