Mission Safari: The Next Chapter(s)

A Privilege

Despite my laments of lack of sleep over the past couple of weeks, it has been a privilege to work at the Veteran's Administration Medical Center in Augusta. Although it often conjures images of inefficiency, government work, etc. one fact remains - it is here to serve the men and women who have served in the Armed Forces of the United States of America. The veterans that I had the opportunity to serve these past two weeks certainly have their sad stories of pain, disability, mental anguish, substance abuse, and so on, but they are our veterans. Many of the folks that I attended to had spent some time in combat.

Despite its institutional feel and culture, I can honestly say that I am proud to have worked here. I have a much better understanding of the sacrifice that many of these soldiers made to secure freedom and liberty. I hope that I will be a better citizen because of it.

Goodbye Newberry

Well, we have said goodbye to Newberry. Or at least we have said goodbye to our friends in Newberry. As the movers were here on Thursday we had arranged to eat dinner with some of our friends there in Newberry. It was interesting that we ended up eating our last meal in Newberry where we ate our first meal. I love symmetry.

Although, it was good to gather several of our friends there at Pharoah's in Newberry, it was a bit surreal. As we visited from table to table sharing some moments with different folks, it was weird being part of the conversation, but not being part of the conversation. I mean, it seemed just like any other time eating out as people talked about the week's events, their upcoming plans, etc. But as we shared the meal, I realized that life goes on.

However, rather than dwell on the mixed emotions of the night, I have to share the highlight. The owner of the restaruant is an Egyptian we call Matt. He has been very interested in the fact that I would leave America to go to Africa. He has told me several times that he would miss me and my family. Well, as an expression of his friendship, he told me that he had a gift for me. I was intrigued. What could it be?

When Matt returned with a gallon container of his homemade "House" salad dressing. He said, "I want you to have this because I know it is your favorite!"

I almost cried.

Now I am trying to figure out if it will be worth the effort to keep it in a cooler and carry it on the plane with me all the way to Kenya - probably not, but I am seriously contemplating it!

A Going-Away Present

Have you ever wondered what people really think about you, especially when you are leaving a community? This question has certainly been on my mind lately as we prepare to wrap things up in Newberry and move on to Nairobi. Even though I have only been here 6 years, I have wondered about the impact that I have had here. I have wondered if anyone would miss me or care that I have left.

During the first part of this year, I had the opportunity to say my good-byes to my patients. I have had some great words of encouragement and even shed a few tears. But I really hadn't heard from my colleagues - the other doctors on the medical staff at my local hospital. Certainly several of them have asked how I was progressing toward leaving. And certainly, things have been "normal" as I have worked in the Emergency Room part time over the past several months. But yesterday, I learned part of the answer - "do they care".

I received a phone call from the PR lady at Newberry County Memorial Hospital. She said that she and the CEO wanted to come by and give me a "going away" present. I was honored and anxious to see just what kind of "gift" it would be. When they arrived there were two small cube shaped presents wrapped. I was intrigued by the shape and size. What could it possibly be I wondered. Before giving me the gift, the CEO told me that it was a gift from the Medical Staff, Administration, and the Board of Trustees. He then told me that they had thought long and hard about what exactly they should give me as a token of appreciation. He then handed me the gifts saying that they think that they came across a gift that would suit me.

I was pretty excited to think that they had "thought long and hard" about the gift. As I began to unwrap the gifts, I knew almost instantly what it was. As I took off the paper and then took the gift out of the box, I was delighted to see.....

Learning to say , “I’m Sorry.”

As we get closer to departing the U.S., I have been reflecting on our life here in Newberry. I realize that this community and the people in it have influenced us in many positive ways. I am going to start posting some occassional essays on the how Newberry has impacted our lives. I will entitle the series "From Newberry to Nairobi". I hope you will enjoy these. My first essay is titled "Learning to say, 'I'm Sorry.'" Enjoy!

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As I sat at my desk getting ready to start seeing patients on a busy Friday afternoon, one of my employees knocked on my door, motioning that she needed to tell me something privately. “Dr. Hutchison, I don’t know how to say this, but Mrs. Smith, well, um, she says she doesn’t like you, and, well, she wants another doctor to take care of Mr. Smith.” As she said this the words exploded in my ears like fireworks. On top of the line of patients for this afternoon, I now had a disgruntled patient who needed my attention.

However, instead of raising a shield of defense, I asked Cathy to explain the situation. As she related the message her husband, Mrs. Smith’s pastor, shared with her over lunch, I began to review my interactions with Mrs. Smith over the past couple of weeks. Mr. Smith was dying. The night before I had admitted him to the hospital from the nursing home for the third time in 3 weeks. In fact, until 2 weeks ago, he had been the patient of an Internist for the past twenty years. But his declining health necessitated a nursing home admission. As the Internist did not admit to the nursing home, our practice was asked to accept him at the nursing home which one of my other partners did last week. But unfortunately, a flare up of Mr. Smith’s emphysema required readmission to the hospital last weekend. As the physician on call for the practice, I met Mr. And Mrs. Smith for the first time last week. At that time, I tried to reassure Mrs. Smith that despite the fact that I was the third physician to see Mr. Smith that week, I had indeed reviewed his chart to be able to provide good care for him during the hospitalization.

As I reviewed his chart, I learned that he was 92 years old and had a long history of chronic medical problems including COPD, CHF, Depression, Hypertension, and Dementia – all of which he was taking several medicines for.