1230 am: The pager goes off. I wasn't sleeping anyway. Sometimes when I am on call, I can't sleep. I lay awake and wait for the pager to go off. And it does.
The patient is pregnant - term with thick meconium and non-reassuring fetal heart tones. Up the hill I go - primary c-section.
0200 am: There is a patient with chronic hypertension, now 24 weeks, with blood pressures of 200/150. Hydralazine and aldomet aren't working. I take IV labetalol from the operating room (it is not stocked on labor ward) and I sit by her beside and push it IV. Her pressures finally start to decrease.
0300am: asleep
0700am: Meeting for Physician Staff. I love chai and mendazis (a fried Kenyan bread). I don't remember what happened in the meeting.
0900am: My first surgery of the day is an exploratory laparotomy for a right ovarian tumor (suspected dermoid). This is per the ultrasound report. But the patient is not in the operating room. I go and find her, hang IVFs and take her to the operating room.
1000 am: It's not an ovarian tumor. It's miliary TB - all over her abdomen. What was the mass? A right psoas abscess. Luckily, I have a general surgery resident on my service this month, so we closed her belly and then drained her hip abcess. My first ortho case in Africa!
1100am: The chronic hypertensive patient is not responding to the labetalol. Her pressures are high and now she is complaining of a severe headache. I decide to do a C section. In the pre-op review, OtherDoc discovers no one has checked fetal heart tones during the 16 hours of her admission. I do an ultrasound. The baby is dead and it measures 16-17 weeks.
I say bad words in three languages. Then OtherDoc and I do a D&E to empty out the uterus.
1245pm: The OR says they are willing to work through lunch. I try to find the next patient for surgery. She is sitting on a bench in the labor ward. She hasn't been prepped for the OR yet.
"Did you want to take her today?" the nurse asks.
I ask OtherDoc to write me a script for Haldol.
We get her to the operating room, but now anesthesia is gone.
I eat two Special K bars during the confusion.
The patient is 61years old and has complete prolapse of her uterus. Everyone comes in to stare.
Finally, we start and I do my first Le Fort procedure in Africa.
300pm I am tired. My feet hurt. I go to check on labor ward. I try to make decisions but it is hard.
430pm Home at last. I accidently close the door on Teddy's nose. He cries. I give him kitty treats and we go to bed.
630pm Am awoken to the sound of screaming outside my bedroom window. I look outside. A lady is sitting on the grass - sure enough - outside my window. Her baby is about 3 years old and he is screaming and running around.
I say,"I am sleeping. Perhaps your baby can go somewhere else and cry?"
Cranky white doctors.
I wish I had some haldol.
And that was Tuesday.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Adosh
It is called the Secret Shame of Africa. It robs women of their fertility. They are thrown out of their family homes, scorned by their family and children. They are forced to become beggars. No one will hug or love them.
No one truly knows how many women in Africa are affected by vesico-vaginal fistulas. This abnormal connection forms between the bladder/urethra and vagina after an especially long labor. The labor is typically 3 days in length and the baby often does not survive. These women - often from very rural areas - do not have anyone to help them during labor and once it is discovered that they are having difficulty with the labor, they have unsafe and poor roads to travel to access care. Once they reach a medical facility - often hours away - there may not be an obstetrical doctor available, and they will be shuttled to the next facility.
After delivery, they are faced with constant leakage of urine - and sometimes stool. The foul odors constantly follow them and the acidic urine burns their tender skin. It is not long until their husbands and families say, "Enough."
The lady above is Adosh. She lives in Pibor, Southern Sudan. Four years ago, she was pregnant with her second child. Her first child was delivered easily. When she went into labor with her second child, she was not afraid. But then the baby did not come. For three days, she labored alone in her hut, with only her mother for comfort. Still the baby did not come.
On the third day, her mother called for Adosh's husband to take her to a medical clinic. It was many hours away and the road was not very good. They had to hitch a ride in the back of a transport truck. The medical clinic was very poor and the doctor there was not trained in obstetrics. He discovered that Adosh was fully dilated and the baby was low in the vagina. So he tried to deliver the baby via an antiquated method involved bilateral mediolateral episiotomies that extended from the hymen/vagina down onto the inner thighs.
Still the baby could not be delivered. So the medical officer packed a dressing on the wounds, not repairing them, and sent Adosh and her family to the nearest hospital. The hospital was in Kenya and was also hours away.
When Adosh reached the hospital, a C section was done. Her baby was dead. A hysterectomy was done. I am not sure why; she did not know about the hysterectomy until I told her.
On her third day post-op, she woke up in a pool of urine. She could not walk well; she was limping because of nerve damage where the baby's head was entrapped in the pelvis. That was the beginning of her secret shame. She leaked urine continuously. She was cast out of her home and lived off the graciousness of family. Her firstborne son and husband were ashamed of her stench and leaking.
Last year, when I met Adosh she told me that she had prayed to God that He would send her a way to restore her health. She said she knew that God has sent me to her as a fulfillment of that answered prayer.
No pressure, eh?
Last year, our team worked to send Adosh to the Fistula Hospital in Addis Ababa, Ethiopa. She had surgery done for her fistula and returned home safely.
This year, when I returned to Pibor, Adosh was waiting for me.
She was beautiful! Her face had a glow that I had never seen on her before. And she brought her son to meet me - because he is no longer ashamed of her. Her husband has "restored" her in a house and she is overall doing better.
But she is still leaking some urine.
After three days of trying to get the story from male translators and doing sub-par exams in the blistering heat, I discovered that Adosh appears to still have a small fistula. Much, much smaller than before, but she still leaks. So, she will return again to Addis for surgery.
Of all the people I have ever met, Adosh has the most reasons to be depressed and angry. She has suffered the death of child. Her uterus was taken from her without her even knowing. Her family disowned her in a time when she needed them. She lived in shame and darkness for three years. She will always walk with a limp because of the nerve injury that occurred. Yet, even this year she looked at me with a lovely smile and called me her "sister in Christ," and told me that she knows that God did not forget her in that time.
There is no word for "love" in Adosh's language. When I tried to explain to her that I loved her, the translator could not understand. But Adosh understood. She said that she knew the thing I wanted to tell her, because I hugged her when no one else would.
Pray for Adosh as she prepares to travel again to Ethiopia; remember the doctors who will be involved in her care. Pray for her and her family - that their family bonds will continue to be strenthened. And always, let us pray that God receives all the glory for complete physical and spiritual healing!
For more information on the many girls like Adosh, visit: http://www.fistulafoundation.org/ and learn how you can help change the world, one woman at a time.
No one truly knows how many women in Africa are affected by vesico-vaginal fistulas. This abnormal connection forms between the bladder/urethra and vagina after an especially long labor. The labor is typically 3 days in length and the baby often does not survive. These women - often from very rural areas - do not have anyone to help them during labor and once it is discovered that they are having difficulty with the labor, they have unsafe and poor roads to travel to access care. Once they reach a medical facility - often hours away - there may not be an obstetrical doctor available, and they will be shuttled to the next facility.
After delivery, they are faced with constant leakage of urine - and sometimes stool. The foul odors constantly follow them and the acidic urine burns their tender skin. It is not long until their husbands and families say, "Enough."
The lady above is Adosh. She lives in Pibor, Southern Sudan. Four years ago, she was pregnant with her second child. Her first child was delivered easily. When she went into labor with her second child, she was not afraid. But then the baby did not come. For three days, she labored alone in her hut, with only her mother for comfort. Still the baby did not come.
On the third day, her mother called for Adosh's husband to take her to a medical clinic. It was many hours away and the road was not very good. They had to hitch a ride in the back of a transport truck. The medical clinic was very poor and the doctor there was not trained in obstetrics. He discovered that Adosh was fully dilated and the baby was low in the vagina. So he tried to deliver the baby via an antiquated method involved bilateral mediolateral episiotomies that extended from the hymen/vagina down onto the inner thighs.
Still the baby could not be delivered. So the medical officer packed a dressing on the wounds, not repairing them, and sent Adosh and her family to the nearest hospital. The hospital was in Kenya and was also hours away.
When Adosh reached the hospital, a C section was done. Her baby was dead. A hysterectomy was done. I am not sure why; she did not know about the hysterectomy until I told her.
On her third day post-op, she woke up in a pool of urine. She could not walk well; she was limping because of nerve damage where the baby's head was entrapped in the pelvis. That was the beginning of her secret shame. She leaked urine continuously. She was cast out of her home and lived off the graciousness of family. Her firstborne son and husband were ashamed of her stench and leaking.
Last year, when I met Adosh she told me that she had prayed to God that He would send her a way to restore her health. She said she knew that God has sent me to her as a fulfillment of that answered prayer.
No pressure, eh?
Last year, our team worked to send Adosh to the Fistula Hospital in Addis Ababa, Ethiopa. She had surgery done for her fistula and returned home safely.
 |
| Adosh admiring her photo! |
 |
| Waiting for the transport to Addis - 2010 |
This year, when I returned to Pibor, Adosh was waiting for me.
She was beautiful! Her face had a glow that I had never seen on her before. And she brought her son to meet me - because he is no longer ashamed of her. Her husband has "restored" her in a house and she is overall doing better.
But she is still leaking some urine.
After three days of trying to get the story from male translators and doing sub-par exams in the blistering heat, I discovered that Adosh appears to still have a small fistula. Much, much smaller than before, but she still leaks. So, she will return again to Addis for surgery.
Of all the people I have ever met, Adosh has the most reasons to be depressed and angry. She has suffered the death of child. Her uterus was taken from her without her even knowing. Her family disowned her in a time when she needed them. She lived in shame and darkness for three years. She will always walk with a limp because of the nerve injury that occurred. Yet, even this year she looked at me with a lovely smile and called me her "sister in Christ," and told me that she knows that God did not forget her in that time.
 |
| Adosh 2011 |
There is no word for "love" in Adosh's language. When I tried to explain to her that I loved her, the translator could not understand. But Adosh understood. She said that she knew the thing I wanted to tell her, because I hugged her when no one else would.
Pray for Adosh as she prepares to travel again to Ethiopia; remember the doctors who will be involved in her care. Pray for her and her family - that their family bonds will continue to be strenthened. And always, let us pray that God receives all the glory for complete physical and spiritual healing!
For more information on the many girls like Adosh, visit: http://www.fistulafoundation.org/ and learn how you can help change the world, one woman at a time.
Suddenly Sudan
This year celebrated my third foray into the township of Pibor, Sudan. This was the most difficult year yet as it was HOTHOTHOT! The temperatures ranged from 120-129 degrees F. Ouch.
It was great to reconnect with familiar team members and meet a few new faces, too. For those of you who are not familiar with my work in Sudan, I thought maybe it would be proper to first show you the basics....
Getting There:
Since I was already "in the neighborhood," I met up with the other team members in Nairobi. After a brief respite and reunion, we flew out to Sudan on this private charter plane. I was a little proud to see that it was owned by my employer. But then the pride quickly faded when I realized that I would be getting no special "employee perks." (Thanks Scott! :-P )
Accomadations:
Once we arrived in Pibor, Sudan, we set up camp at what we have come to lovingly call the "Pibor Hotel."
There are two room styles in the Pibor Hotel. There is the "verenda view":
And there is the "nature view." I always choose this one; it features a beautiful night time view:
All rooms come with a complimentary wake up call. It is not optional.
The Pibor Hotel also features a bath house (co-ed) where you can take a re-freshing bucket-bath:
On a note of disappointment, last year the bath house featured a rain water collection system that would allow the tomato soup can shower head (in the above pic) to function like a real shower. However, due to hotel management cut-backs - or something - the tomato soup can shower is out of order and there are no plans to repair it. So, this year we just took a bucket of water into the bath house and took our baths. Really not so bad. And I think the water pressure was much better that way. Though a little sporadic, I suppose.
The Pibor Hotel also features three bathrooms:
However, it is requested that each guest bring their own toilet paper.
The Pibor Hotel offers a Club House for guest use:
We had a belated Christmas Party - my team felt bad about me spending the holidays away from my family and friends back in December, so we decided to celebrate again in Sudan! We had Santa hats, fake snow and cookies.....
Food/Drink:
Water is of great importance in the heat of southern Sudan. You have to constantly conscious of the need for hydration. There is an arabic vendor in the village who will sell bottled water but the Pibor Hotel also has a reliable water filtration system:
For food, we mostly eat non-perishable items that we have brought or MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), which are modelled after what our soldiers eat on the field.
I survived the week in Sudan on Skittles, jalepeno cheese whiz and crackers and dried fruit.
Amenities:
The township of Pibor boasts a river - but I don't recommend you swim or drink from it!
It was great to reconnect with familiar team members and meet a few new faces, too. For those of you who are not familiar with my work in Sudan, I thought maybe it would be proper to first show you the basics....
Getting There:
Since I was already "in the neighborhood," I met up with the other team members in Nairobi. After a brief respite and reunion, we flew out to Sudan on this private charter plane. I was a little proud to see that it was owned by my employer. But then the pride quickly faded when I realized that I would be getting no special "employee perks." (Thanks Scott! :-P )
Accomadations:
Once we arrived in Pibor, Sudan, we set up camp at what we have come to lovingly call the "Pibor Hotel."
And there is the "nature view." I always choose this one; it features a beautiful night time view:
 |
| My friend, Leigha, and I enjoying our "room" with a view. |
On a note of disappointment, last year the bath house featured a rain water collection system that would allow the tomato soup can shower head (in the above pic) to function like a real shower. However, due to hotel management cut-backs - or something - the tomato soup can shower is out of order and there are no plans to repair it. So, this year we just took a bucket of water into the bath house and took our baths. Really not so bad. And I think the water pressure was much better that way. Though a little sporadic, I suppose.
The Pibor Hotel also features three bathrooms:
The Pibor Hotel offers a Club House for guest use:
Food/Drink:
Water is of great importance in the heat of southern Sudan. You have to constantly conscious of the need for hydration. There is an arabic vendor in the village who will sell bottled water but the Pibor Hotel also has a reliable water filtration system:
For food, we mostly eat non-perishable items that we have brought or MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), which are modelled after what our soldiers eat on the field.
I survived the week in Sudan on Skittles, jalepeno cheese whiz and crackers and dried fruit.
 |
| Dinner Time! |
 |
| Team Leader, Dr. Fry, enjoying an MRE |
Amenities:
The township of Pibor boasts a river - but I don't recommend you swim or drink from it!
There are also nearby shops, or dukas, where one can buy necissities or souvenirs:
If you find yourself unwell - there is an excellent MASH medical clinic nearby...
There is also abundant wild life to see! Here's so pics of some of the local wild life I've seen over the past 3 years:
But most importantly, there is good company:
Pibor 2011 - Thanks for everything (including letting me steal your pics for this blog!!)
Monday, February 21, 2011
Me, me, ME!
Some people object to having a birthday. Must have something to do with the idea of getting older. I, however, still LOVE my birthday. It symbolizes that I have survived another year......plus sometimes people get you presents.
The past few years, because of the timing of my mission trips, I have spent my birthday away from home. This year - I am in Kenya and am preparing to go to Sudan. It's not easy to have a celebration while shopping for supplies and buying medicines, but I am very excited about "my day" nonetheless.
This year, I have devised my own celebration and amusement. I am truly thankful for the awesome experiences I have had over the past 31 years. I feel lucky to have had the priveleges of travel, education and awesome friendships. In the spirit of thanksgiving, I am including some of my favorite pictures from the past few years. And in the spirit of entertainment, I am including ten statements about myself.....
AND to make it a bit more interesting, I have placed one FALSE statement...just to see if anyone can figure out which one it is. (Sorry if this seems silly to some of you, but what can I say? I don't own a TV anymore....)
1. When I was born, February 23, 1980, I was a breech vaginal delivery.
2. Things I have wanted to be: a jockey, a forensic pathologist, a writer, an emergency room doctor.
3. Languages I speak: Spanish, French and Italian.
4. I love Thai food!
5. My favorite TV show - The Office!
6. I named Teddy after a US President.
7. I have been in the backseat of a police car.
8. Secret addiction: Online shopping!
9. I want to learn how to scuba dive.
10. I have never seen the movie E.T..
The past few years, because of the timing of my mission trips, I have spent my birthday away from home. This year - I am in Kenya and am preparing to go to Sudan. It's not easy to have a celebration while shopping for supplies and buying medicines, but I am very excited about "my day" nonetheless.
This year, I have devised my own celebration and amusement. I am truly thankful for the awesome experiences I have had over the past 31 years. I feel lucky to have had the priveleges of travel, education and awesome friendships. In the spirit of thanksgiving, I am including some of my favorite pictures from the past few years. And in the spirit of entertainment, I am including ten statements about myself.....
AND to make it a bit more interesting, I have placed one FALSE statement...just to see if anyone can figure out which one it is. (Sorry if this seems silly to some of you, but what can I say? I don't own a TV anymore....)
 |
| Graduation 2010: Ob/Gyn Residency |
2. Things I have wanted to be: a jockey, a forensic pathologist, a writer, an emergency room doctor.
 |
| Two babies delivered in Sudan, 2010 |
3. Languages I speak: Spanish, French and Italian.
4. I love Thai food!
 |
| Making friends with the dolphins - Dolphin Cay, Bahamas, 2009 |
5. My favorite TV show - The Office!
6. I named Teddy after a US President.
 |
| Doing a C section, Tenwek, 2011 |
7. I have been in the backseat of a police car.
8. Secret addiction: Online shopping!
 |
| At an orphanage in Honduras, 2008 |
10. I have never seen the movie E.T..
 |
| .....And a picture by request :-) |
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Manna
This blog was previously written but unable to be published due to "technical difficulties."
The patient was unremarkable for Kenya.
This was not her first pregnancy. Or was it? Honestly, it all starts to blur together. Patient after patient, never speaking to any of them directly, only using interpretors, the turnover more rapid than triage at Good Slam Hospital.
She had partial previa - where the placenta overlies the cervix. She had vaginal bleeding when she presented at 25 weeks and a few days. Her hemoglobin was 5.3. We decided not to give dexamethsone (steroids) to enhance fetal lung maturity because the fetus was small and the limits of viability here are really around 26 weeks.
The limits of viability....this is when we expect that a fetus can theorectically survive outside the uterus. But we don't typically intubate neonates here - longterm outcomes are bad and I suspect social and financial issues are at work. In a place where death and dying is common and language barriers abound, it is not difficult to begin overlooking the privelege of personalized care.
This patient was hospitalized for several days, receiving blood transfusions and on bedrest - in hopes that she would maintain her pregnancy to viability. On Thursday of last week she received steroids for the fetus. Then on Saturday, I was on call. At 0200, the call came that I had been dreading.
She has bled again. Maybe it is just a small clot? The baby is looking well. Okay, let's watch for one hour.
One hour later - she is still bleeding.
Reluctantly, I know I must get out of bed and call a C section to end this pregnancy or she will continue to bleed. I am thinking about this 26 week fetus, wondering if it has any chance.
I begin the C section. The pediatrician is waiting to assess the baby and resusitate. I can see the placenta bulging underneath the uterine wall, exactly where I want to cut. I point it out to the intern. She is not interested in learning at 3am. Oh well. I make my incision in the uterus and with just a little pressure, the placenta and fetus expels into my hand. It appears that a partial or total abruption has also occurred.
**Sigh**
I feel completely defeated as a look at a baby that fits into one hand and weighs maybe one pound. Very small- appearing for even a 26 weeks, with a thin and collapsed umbilical cord. Great. Probably bled out while she was being prepped and waiting. The events of the previous week has just crashed down on me: two maternal deaths, several IUFDs, one quad dying, a term baby with birth asphixia.....the list goes on in my head and the frustration mainfests in the sentence that I speak, "Never mind. It's too small."
As I reach to cut the cord, four tiny extremities extended and flexed. Two eyes opened and an amazingly vigorous cry came from the small body in my hand.
It was a total - "Are you talking about me?!" moment. So, I gave the baby to the nurse and off to Peds she went.
I felt like an ass. You ever been told off by a one pound baby? That's what I felt like. In a time that I was passing (clinical) judgement and surfing the sea of frustration - life was trying to happen.
There are many days here in Kenya when seredipity seems to govern the universe - I often don't know what it wrong with the patients who are sick, the ones who die OR the ones who get better! It's a little challenging for the Type A control freak! It is good to smart, good to be surgically competent, but here it is more vital to just be blessed.
Back to baby with an attitude: she weighed 640 grams and she lived for ~ 4 days. We do the best we can, with what we have and leave the rest is up to God. In that moment, she was a reminder that focusing only on the impossibilities of this place may rob us of the miracles that are happening: DIC patients who survive, three remaining quads now on feeds and eclamptics who go home alive with live babies.
The patient was unremarkable for Kenya.
This was not her first pregnancy. Or was it? Honestly, it all starts to blur together. Patient after patient, never speaking to any of them directly, only using interpretors, the turnover more rapid than triage at Good Slam Hospital.
She had partial previa - where the placenta overlies the cervix. She had vaginal bleeding when she presented at 25 weeks and a few days. Her hemoglobin was 5.3. We decided not to give dexamethsone (steroids) to enhance fetal lung maturity because the fetus was small and the limits of viability here are really around 26 weeks.
The limits of viability....this is when we expect that a fetus can theorectically survive outside the uterus. But we don't typically intubate neonates here - longterm outcomes are bad and I suspect social and financial issues are at work. In a place where death and dying is common and language barriers abound, it is not difficult to begin overlooking the privelege of personalized care.
This patient was hospitalized for several days, receiving blood transfusions and on bedrest - in hopes that she would maintain her pregnancy to viability. On Thursday of last week she received steroids for the fetus. Then on Saturday, I was on call. At 0200, the call came that I had been dreading.
She has bled again. Maybe it is just a small clot? The baby is looking well. Okay, let's watch for one hour.
One hour later - she is still bleeding.
Reluctantly, I know I must get out of bed and call a C section to end this pregnancy or she will continue to bleed. I am thinking about this 26 week fetus, wondering if it has any chance.
I begin the C section. The pediatrician is waiting to assess the baby and resusitate. I can see the placenta bulging underneath the uterine wall, exactly where I want to cut. I point it out to the intern. She is not interested in learning at 3am. Oh well. I make my incision in the uterus and with just a little pressure, the placenta and fetus expels into my hand. It appears that a partial or total abruption has also occurred.
**Sigh**
I feel completely defeated as a look at a baby that fits into one hand and weighs maybe one pound. Very small- appearing for even a 26 weeks, with a thin and collapsed umbilical cord. Great. Probably bled out while she was being prepped and waiting. The events of the previous week has just crashed down on me: two maternal deaths, several IUFDs, one quad dying, a term baby with birth asphixia.....the list goes on in my head and the frustration mainfests in the sentence that I speak, "Never mind. It's too small."
As I reach to cut the cord, four tiny extremities extended and flexed. Two eyes opened and an amazingly vigorous cry came from the small body in my hand.
It was a total - "Are you talking about me?!" moment. So, I gave the baby to the nurse and off to Peds she went.
I felt like an ass. You ever been told off by a one pound baby? That's what I felt like. In a time that I was passing (clinical) judgement and surfing the sea of frustration - life was trying to happen.
There are many days here in Kenya when seredipity seems to govern the universe - I often don't know what it wrong with the patients who are sick, the ones who die OR the ones who get better! It's a little challenging for the Type A control freak! It is good to smart, good to be surgically competent, but here it is more vital to just be blessed.
Back to baby with an attitude: she weighed 640 grams and she lived for ~ 4 days. We do the best we can, with what we have and leave the rest is up to God. In that moment, she was a reminder that focusing only on the impossibilities of this place may rob us of the miracles that are happening: DIC patients who survive, three remaining quads now on feeds and eclamptics who go home alive with live babies.
"He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD." Deut 8:3 NIV
Houston, We Have A Problem
A few of you very astute blog-followers may have noticed an abrupt lapse in my blogging as of late. I am alive and well - as is Teddy - but I have been plagued by technological problems. First the computer died - cutting of my ability to efficiently email and bog. Then the house phone died - making home call a rather unpleasant and costly ordeal, as I have been running through cell phone cards in a ridiculous fashion. And of course, my woes were puctuated by the very sporatic power outages that we've been suffering here at Tenwek.
On the less-than-gloomy side, my computer seems to be recovering. The power outages are getting more infrequent. And although the house phone is still dead dead dead - I am hoping that my time on the technology ash heap is coming to an end.
In the meantime, on Tuesday, I leave Tenwek to travel to Nairobi. I will be preparing to jet off for my annual mission to southern Sudan on February 25. Please be much in prayer for myself and my team! Updates will soon be following - I hope!
On the less-than-gloomy side, my computer seems to be recovering. The power outages are getting more infrequent. And although the house phone is still dead dead dead - I am hoping that my time on the technology ash heap is coming to an end.
In the meantime, on Tuesday, I leave Tenwek to travel to Nairobi. I will be preparing to jet off for my annual mission to southern Sudan on February 25. Please be much in prayer for myself and my team! Updates will soon be following - I hope!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A Safari With Style
Nothing cures the work week blues like a little trip to the Fairmont Safari Club! Located at the edge of the Masai Mara Game reserve, the Safari Club is a plush hotel that combines great food with the awesome big game animals of Kenya.
All the “rooms” were actually tents that were decked out in a “Out of Africa”/Pier 1 type motif. Every evening a room attendant would come and turn down the beds, close the shades and put hot water bottles in the beds. Each morning, hot coffee or tea would be delivered to the rooms. The meals were all buffet style – delicious and usually served on a deck that overlooked the Mara River with its many hippos basking in the Kenyan sun.
 |
| YES, that IS a lot of hippos! |
Twice a day, everyone loaded into Jeeps to head into the tundra to see what animals were out. We saw elephants, giraffe, lion, cheetah, hyenas, ostrich and many deer-like animals. I also did a late night game drive – this was something new and pretty cool. It was surreal to be out driving around in complete darkness, spotlighting for animals – mostly hippo, hyena and other small beasts. I was hoping to see a lion attack and kill something, but no such luck. Those hyenas were pretty scary though….
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| The "classic" African picture... |
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| Giraffe |
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| Is it just me - or does this feline resemble Teddy alittle?! |
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| Cheetah hiding in a shady glen |
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| Baby giraffes look weird. Sorry - but they do. |
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| The only zebra that did not turn his rear end towards my camera! |
The remainder of my time was spent eating and napping. And it was time WELL SPENT I must say! Already I am wishing I were back in my cushy tent……
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