Jack, get back, come on before we crack. Lose your boots, everybody cut footloose.

Monday means a new week and a new ward for me, the Dealer, the Bodyguard and Lillspättan. This time is also means the very last week. The last week at Mumhimbili Hospital and the last week in Dar Es Salaam. This last days will be spent at the Emergency for me and Frida, while Jenny and Anton will follow our footsteps in Main Theatre and ICU. And I know for a 100 procent that at least two of us are happy about the switch.
Anton and Jenny had a though week at the Emergency Department. (I feel really stupid writing about it since I wasn't there, but I tried to make them guest-blog here without success...) For the really first time they felt neglected as soon as they said they were nursing students, not doctors. Which sucks. And they also experienced their first death. A death that in a Swedish hospital could have been avoided. It had been wrong from beginning until end. They also got to go home earlier one day cause one of the patients in a room had active TBC. Which was information that they got after they had already been inside the room. A room that the patient also shared with three burn victims, that had burns on 60% of their body surface. Upset at the whole organisation is one word describing their feelings.
I and Frida on the other hand quite enjoyed Main Theatre. It was the first place where one didn't get any supervisor at all. We were out on our own. And it actually worked out really well. We could walk around a little bit of everywhere and see the operations we found interesting. There was also no need to stay for a full operation but could come in after they started and go before they had closed up. We could do a little as we pleased. And we took our chances to observe as many operations as possible.
It was mostly tumour extractions of different kinds. One on the esophagus, one on the lower jaw bone (mandibular), one gastric or intestines, one lung cancer on a 1 year old child and, the one that was most disturbing to watch, a malignt melanoma.
A lady came in and sat on the operationtable. We thought that meant that they would remove a birth mark from her back or so. Not really anything superinteresting to watch, and we were about to head out, when we realised that they gave her spinal anaesthesia. So it wasn´t a birth mark. It was actually on her right heel. And it was a biggie. Underneath the whole heel was just a cancer wound. Covering the sole of her heel. And to take it away they basically peeled the heel off. All of it. Deep. Into the heel bone. That they after had to file down so it wasn't all pointy under there. And once the whole heel was off, they just put bandages on. Done. I dont understand how that will be able to heal ever again.


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