Our Schedule

I always get the question: "What are you doing out there?". This is a difficult one to sum up easily, so with Elizabeth's help, I came up with the following. Maybe this will help.

A Day in the Life at Ti Tree

5:46 Phone alarm goes off to the sweet tunes of an ascending ringtone.

5:46:02 Snooze button already battered twice. Recount dreams, stretch, make excuses not to get out of bed. Elizabeth is usually already brushing her teeth and lacing up her tennis shoes.

6:00 Alarm clock goes off for the second time. I hear Elizabeth in the kitchen taking her morning Vit C (she has had nasal drainage since she has been here!) ready to insert the P90X DVD of choice.

6:15 After fumbling around, having some cold water and wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I join Elizabeth for the six minutes of stretching before exercise begins. I try to make Elizabeth start the mornings off with a trot, but she insists on approaching the mornings as a locomotive bound for New York.

7:08 We dump the vinegar out of the electric kettle. Vinegar is used to clean the overwhelming calcium deposits off the coils so we can boil water for our morning coffee. No worries about osteoporosis in the Northern Territory. The water has the highest content of calcium that I have ever ingested.

7:10 Water is boiling.

7:30 Shower, Breakfast and freeze-dried coffee in alternating order. Ti Tree is not a main consumer of Costa Rican beans so we are forced to the local alternative.

7:59:59 Head out the door to clinic. Our door is steps from the clinic. As we walk, we dodge colliding grasshoppers (no, seriously, these grasshoppers are the size of small birds!) we stir up in the grasses. There are also packs of dogs that escort us to clinic. We have our favorites, esp the Pit/ Rat Terrier pup that has one low slung ear and one perky ear.

8:00 Clinic Starts. Elizabeth starts her mornings off with a thorough reading of the previous night’s emails from America. I start with recording the daily temperature of the various frigs in the clinic waiting for the patients to arrive.

This past week I have been splitting my time between seeing patients and helping get the visiting doctor acquainted with her new space. Elizabeth meanders in and out of each of the rooms with no particular favorite. She sits in with me while I flush flies out of kids’ ears and then mingles back in with the DMO to listen to the management of uncontrolled diabetes.

EJH analogy: The day in a remote Aboriginal clinic is like tripping on mushrooms while watching a Planet Earth series of unsuspecting ants being consumed by a beetle.

SJH analogy: The day in a remote Aboriginal clinic is like licking honey off a thorn.

Too many things can happen in a day, so here is a snapshot of our last 2 weeks:

Antenatal checks. STI treatments. Flushing out stones/tree particles from ears. Filling medicine boxes. Rheumatic Heart prophylaxis. Scabies education. Vaccination administration. Centrifuging blood. Facilitating Hearing checks w/ the ENT team. Impetigo identification. Growth charts. ECG lessons. IV fluids. Toothbrushing demonstration. Deworming protocols. Iron injections. Diabetic ulcer dressing changes. Responding to domestic violence assaults. Death. Medicare enrollment. Asthma nebulizers. Insulin injections. Glomerular filtration rates vs. Albumin/Creatinine Ratio. Lancing boils. Pneumonia diagnosing. Loving on kids. Wiping away tears. Getting frustrated with poor parenting. Removing calcium deposits in the hot water kettle. Changing sheets. Checking oxygen tanks. Drug counts. Writing medical certificates. Arranging transport into town. Fracture identification. Pain management. Strongilydosis labs. Giarrhdia samples. Oral Rehydration education. IV lessons.…..Always, always, always learning.

12:00 Lunch

12:10 Naptime! Elizabeth’s favorite part of the day. I usually read.

12:59:59 Back to the clinic for the afternoon session

15:30 Tea Time! Elizabeth always sneaks back a couple of cookies in her bag after lunch to munch on while we drink Bushel’s tea, sugar, and cream.

17:00 Clinic ends. The days are always so busy, time flies!

17:01 Internet time!

18:00 Elizabeth is prepping for the night’s meal. She seems to think that she needs to use all the vegetables and fruit in every meal she cooks, so it takes her a lot of prep time.

18:30 This part of the day depends on what the mood calls for. Sometimes go for another run (if Elizabeth can talk me into it), read, sew, laugh/chat/tell stories (yes, mom, lots of long conversations), listen to music, and teach Elizabeth computer skills.

20:00 Meal time! It has been fantastic having Elizabeth here. She adorns the self-designated title of “master chef.” Somewhere amongst staple traveler’s food supply, Elizabeth designs a creative masterpiece nightly.

20:15 Wind-down time. I clean the dishes while Elizabeth takes a shower which I follow suit not too far behind.

21:00 By this time we are several pages into our books with our eyelids falling slowly. Not too much longer, turn the lights out and quickly fall asleep. (yes, going to bed early is our speed...)

if you stay too long in the third world

The following poem was given to me by my beautiful adoptive and adopted Australian mother, Connie. Sitting outside in the cool breeze on her back patio, she read this poem out loud to me somehow inferring that I would understand. Understand it, I did and appreciate it, I do. Thank you, Connie, for being being so poetically sound and always having just the right words!

if you stay too long in the third world

you learn

to hawk and spit like an old woman

you become

unfit for dinner parties

in the lands of the well fed

having dropped out of yoru original country

into this space from which

the coast with its oceans and gardens

the party on the terrace

the splash of green water over the bow of the yacht

are images projected on a screen

whoe unreality you resent

the other side of the coin whose gain

is the loss you see all around

if you stay too long in the third world

death becomes a fact of life    the old

die quickly       the young

can't count on being old       this termite death

hollows out the roots of endeavour

as children leave toys you abandon

your previous explantations

if you stay too long in the third world

it will fill the space in your psyche

with a differnt discourse

you will begin to recongise

the unfamiliar in the unfamiliar

the outline of a landscape

in a pattern of dots

the faces of relations in the tragice and violent

repitions of a song        the patterns of daily living

in the holy steps of a dance

if you stay too long in the third world

you will become

accustomed to silence and observation

leading to understanding

to abundance and malnutrition

immutably hand in hand

when that eager and rational voice

whose creature you are

whose instrument you had vounteered to become

grates like the radio on a bad day

you switch it off

if you stay too long in the third world

you will be unable to leave

-Lee Catalidi, Women who live on the Ground

Ampilatwatja Video

Due to the constraints of working within a government run/"Big Brother" health clinic, this video is a bit overdue 2/2 not being able to access most sites. Nevertheless, hope you like it!


Saving 1000's of words: Ampilatwatja 2010 from Stephanie Holcombe on Vimeo.

Book Review: Seize the Day

                                  Seize the Day

Saul Bellows

(Thanks, Casey!)

Tommy Wilhelm has reached his forties and is scared. He considers himself a failure – at his marriage, at his career, with his father, and at his finances. He is a broken man, past saving himself. Rescued by the likes of a mentor/con man, he has one monumental day where he reviews his past mistakes in light of forgiving himself and learning to “live in the here and now” and “seize the day”.

The book ends with a beautiful scene in which Wilhelm stumbles by accident into a funeral procession. He is led towards the dead body, and after holding back his tears for most of the book, he breaks down here and cries his eyes out. In the end, there is no neat resolution of all his problems, but instead there is a moment of catharsis.

Bellows did a fantastic job in this short novella of characterizing the trenches we sometimes can find ourselves in. The main character was a sad, weak man, yet one that, in some moments, we can all identify with. He was not what he thought he would be, nor where he’d be and ultimately he was disappointed.

It has been said: “When the student is ready, the teacher will arrive.” I believe this to be true and this book was a great example

Filter for my World in Ti Tree

Book Review: The Songlines

The Songlines

by Bruce Chatwin

(Thanks, Ash!)

A highly touted book came as a complete let down to me. Maybe my expectations were too high. It is considered a classic in these parts and a "must" read by the driver who takes me out to my communities. I wouldn't agree. Less the book and more the prose; we just didn't jive.

The entire book is Chatwin describing a trip to Australia - mainly in the Northern Territory - which he has taken for the express purpose of researching Aboriginal song and its connections to nomadic travel. Discussions with Australians, many of them Indigenous, give insights into Outback culture, Aboriginal culture and religion, and the Aboriginal land rights movement.

Interestingly:
Songlines, also called Dreaming tracks by Indigenous Australians within the animist indigenous belief system, are paths across the land (or, sometimes the sky) which mark the route followed by a localised 'creator-spirit' during the Dreaming. The paths of the songlines are recorded in traditional songs, stories, dance, and painting. By singing the songs in the appropriate sequence, Indigenous people could navigate vast distances, often travelling through the deserts of Australia's interior. The continent of Australia contains an extensive system of songlines, some of which are of a few kilometres, whilst others traverse hundreds of kilometres through lands of many different Indigenous peoples — peoples who may speak markedly different languages and champion significantly different cultural traditions. (wikipedia)

Even more than the book, I found the author to be fascinating.



          'But if you took him blindfold to another country,' she said, ''he might end up lost.'  

" The dry heart of Australia, she said, was a jigsaw of microclimates, of different minerals in the soil and different plants and animals. A man raised in one part of the desert would know its flora and fauna backwards. He knew which plant attracted game. He knew his water. He knew where there were tubers underground. In other world, by naming all the 'things' in his territory, he could always count on survival.

'Because he'd lost his bearings?'


'Yes.'

'You're saying that man 'makes his territory by naming the 'things' in it?'


'Yes, I am!' Her face lit up.

'So the basis for a universal language can never have existed?'

'Yes. Yes.'


"Wendy said that, even today, when an Aboriginal mother notices the first stirring of speech in her child, she lets it handle the 'things' of that particular country: leaves, fruit, insects and so forth. The child at its mother's breast, will toy with the 'thing', talk to it, test its teeth on it, learn its name, repeat its name--and finally chuck it aside.


'We give our children guns and computer games,' Wendy said. 'They gave their children the land.' "

Shooting Photos In Melbourne

I feel like a photojournalism amateur, but above is my recent trip to Melbourne through my eyes.

Melbourne is my absolute favorite city I've ever lived. god, I love that place. enough said.