I was supposed to go to Mbweni yesterday. Instead I stood in the ENT 'Sea View' theatre and watched people - happy looking people - heading out on snorkling trips or sailing past on traditional dhow, whilst I was left trying to dodge the fine sea-sprays of blood emanating from an obese woman's neck.
About five minutes into the operation I think we all realised it was going to be a marathon. The goitre was enormous and the woman was, what we in the industry like to call, a bit of a bleeder.
By the third hour, the usual theatre chit chat had died away and we worked in silence, save for the odd imperative ('suction', 'gauze', 'forceps') or exclamation from Dr Tao, a man with a knack for capturing the collective sentiment in a way that only someone with broken English can.
"Argh" he said as yet another geyser arced into the air, "too mucha blood. Want go home."
Having foolishly agreed to assist in the operation I felt a bit like an American soldier in Iraq - in the middle of a bloody battle I only half understood, with no exit strategy. So I stood there with sweat pooling in my gumboots and tried to concentrate on the various token tasks I was given (sucking up blood, cutting sutures, holding back neck fat) instead of staring out the window and thinking about my housemates who would probably be sitting next to a pool somewhere drinking colourful coctails with those little umbrellas in them.
Ultimately, the operation ran so far over time that the patient woke up and the generator packed it in and we had to complete part of the closure under torch light.
The ENT theatre
Holy shit Dr Ben! a bit of a bleeder! :o
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