Waiting On The World To Change

Currently listening to this song and reflecting on life while writing a paper for my "Jewish Settlements in Israel pre-1948" class.

Going Gray

Today as a friend was giving me a neck massage since I had a headache (yes, I know, I have amazing caring friends), she found something that did not belong. A gray hair, well, silver actually. Don't worry, it is no longer attached to my head. I still try to insist that it is because I am turning blond from the intense Middle-Eastern sun.

But, honestly, I am not that surprised. This place, coupled with nursing, has been the most emotionally stressful experience I have ever had. I don't even know how to adequately explain it, examples will have to suffice.

Example 1 - this place. This past Sunday the Penn nurses were on an Arab bus on our way to Old City to experience a Purim celebration with our professor. We were pulled over by a group of Israel Police Officers. Everyone had to produce a passport or ID (which by the way, you don't need to ride a bus). He took one man off of the bus. We waited while 3 officers searched, interrogated, and just took their precious time with this man. Eventually the man came back to the bus to get his little son. The police interrogated and stood around some more. Eventually the man told the bus driver to leave, and him and his son piled into the Police Car. Such disturbing pointless intimidation tactics. Such racism. Such hate. And all we could do was watch.

Example 2 - nursing. I saw my first death. It affected me so much more than I thought it would. Especially considering that she was not even my patient. I knew nothing about this little 4 year old girl other than her medical condition, which I will not share. I watched almost an entire resuscitation attempt. It was fine as long as we were discussing technical skills applied and the physiology of the girl's condition. Somehow 45 minutes into watching the trauma put on this tiny body it hit me, and I had to leave. 15 minutes later they called it. I get shivers just writing about it. I cried. I keep thinking about it. I know it is better, that she was in no state to live, but I was there while she died. And all I could do was watch.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Clowns. Some fear them, some love them, but few think to go to school to become one. Not to mention to become a specialized clown. But in countries outside of the United States, apparently that idea is not so far fetched. Medical clowns are a staple in the Pediatric Hospital of Hadassah (and I've been told most other countries). They go through a Medical Clown College of some sort to become certified, legit Medical Clowns. The work they do is truly amazing. A child's laughter is the most beautiful thing, and I've never seen a clown fail.

The Work had to begin eventually

We have now completed 2 weeks of nursing classes. And I still have no idea what is going on. Our schedule is different day by day, week by week. Often I look at the schedule the night before so I know when and where I need to be the next day. It is too varied to keep track of, and too overwhelming to really look at. Taking Pediatrics and Obstetric courses simultaneously is enough to make anyone crazy, squeezing them into 2.5 months is something else. Not to mention an additional night class at Rothberg International School. One thing that seems to be consistent is a 6am wake up time. Our nursing classes and clinicals are an hour bus commute away from our dorms. I’m not quite sure who engineered that one.

My clinical this past week was at Alyn Pediatric Rehabilitation Hospital . This is truly an amazing facility. Each child has such individualized care. They design each kid a specific chair to mold to their body and provide the support they need, as well as corsets, braces, casts, and anything else. There is multidisciplinary care including occupational therapy, school, hydrotherapy, nutrition, and of course nursing care. Even the kids that have no hope in regaining function, they make sure to exercise the abilities they do have as not to lose them. Every faculty member knew every child. It truly appeared to be a cross-cultural family operation. Political and cultural views were put aside to work together for these children.

Next week my clinical will be at the PICU at Hadassah Hospital Ein Kerem. We split into groups of 1 or 2 and do two days at each location. This has its benefits: we have very personalized attention and are able to gather a taste of different floors and facilities. However, the negative seems to outweigh the positive for this setup. We are not allowed to do anything. We are not with a specific clinical instructor, and therefore can't work under someone else's license. It is frustrating. We were thrown into our Medical-Surgical and Geriatric rotations last semester and gained so many skills, but are not able to practice or improve them.

The lectures on the other hand, are much better than at Penn. With a class of 5 students it is much more relaxed, personalized, and gives leeway for more interesting stories and information applicable to Israel. You also get to know your professors very well. Oh, and best of all, class pauses when you need a bathroom break.

The Best Laid Plans...

February 21-23
…are no plans at all. We decided to make the most of our last free weekend before intense nursing classes began. What better way than to go to a warm sunny beach on the Red Sea. We found a hotel for cheap in Eilat the night before, made our reservations, got on the bus after our Hebrew Finals and were on our way. Five hours later, at 11pm we arrived at our hotel, only to find that we “misunderstood” the price, and in fact they were going to charge us double the amount they quoted to us on the phone. Through a little struggle and a phone call to the manager they finally agreed to cancel the reservation without charging the credit card the full amount.

So, here we were, 8 girls, 1 boy, wandering Eilat at 11pm without a place to sleep. Pretty comical really, but it gets better. We decided to go back to the bus station, because we saw a couple hostels around. While walking through the station we ran into a group of boys from Spain who also needed a place to stay. The group of us was wandering up toward the hostels when we were approached by a woman saying “place to stay, very cheap.” We bargained with her for a little bit just for fun, but after she became pushy we realized it was just a bit too sketchy. The Spanish boys went with another man in a Jeep. We continued on our way...

While we split up to inquire about different hostels about open beds and pricing, the woman drove by and honked, then she stopped up by the other group and started bargaining again. She was going to give us 10 shekels less per person for two nights. We had to convince our friend that $2.50 was not worth risking our lives.

We ended up finding a beautiful hostel. The man who owned it has traveled all over the world, is an architect/designer, and designed his hostel. He even has the “nicest house in Israel” to rent out, and he was not exaggerating. Nestled into our room we had an intense 2 hour conversation (that prompted my previous post) and called it a night.

The first day was very relaxed. We wondered around the beach shopping at different stands. It was gorgeous. A sea with the bluest water I have ever seen, surrounded by looming mountains. We meandered up the jetty to see if there were any boat rides on the Red Sea that seemed appealing. We were invited onto a man’s boat to explore. To our surprise to was a beautiful pirate ship (okay, some might call it a sailing ship)! The cruise left the next morning, so we signed right up! For 125 Shekels (about $35) we got a 4 hour cruise to the border of Israel/Egypt and Jordan/Sinai, delicious Israeli BBQ lunch, time to jump off the ship into the Sea with a rope swing, and relax or dance while music played. It was truly a vacation and an adventure. And of course it turned out so much better than if it was planned.