In the past three days, two major things have happened: 1. I know with 100% surety that I'm on the right path, and I'm going to work as hard as I can to become the best doctor I can be in order to provide care for those around me. 2. There are people all over the world, despite their socioeconomic circumstances, that are rich with joy, faith, family, and love.
This week, I have been working with St. Thomas Eye Clinic. It's a bigger clinic with more than one ophthalmologist, but they're also not nearly as prepared as Crystal Eye Clinic to utilize volunteers. On Monday, we woke up, and then we drove a few hours to a beautiful Pentecost church. It was a massive chapel with seating for about 1000 people (plastic chairs of course). It had a cement floor, cinder block walls, open windows, exposed light bulbs, and about 215 smiling people waiting in need of eye care. Dr. Brako, an optometrist, was the only trained staff with the ability to see patients. Each person would have their visual acuity assessed by one of us (volunteers), then they'd wait hours to see the optometrist for an exam, and they'd finish by visiting another set of volunteers in charge of dispensing medication, glasses, and scheduling surgeries.
Dr. Brako is Superman. Without a doubt. We left for the church at seven in the morning, arrived at the church around an hour or so later, and we started seeing patients by 8:30. I was assigned to shadow Dr. Brako, and I witnessed a man devoted to service and diligence. He worked from 8:30 in the morning until 9:00 at night with one 16 oz. bottle of water, no food, no bathroom breaks, and most impressively, a smile on his face. He was completely patient, personable, and attentive with every single patient. As he waited for each person to walk over to us, he would occasionally look over at me with a tired expression, slump in his chair, and close his eyes for a second, but he just kept going. And going. And going.
On my first day with St. Thomas and Dr. Brako, I witnessed a few things for the first time. In addition to Dr. Brako's insane work ethic and commitment to help his fellow Ghanaians, I also saw the danger of an untrained volunteer trying to diagnose a patient. At around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, Dr. Brako sat down after looking through his ophthalmoscope into a once dark, brown left eye that was now clouded and murky with a foreign whiteness. He tacitly explained to the patient that he had scars on the retina along with a few other complications that would make it impossible for his vision to be fixed. The patient immediately became hostile and claimed that Dr. Brako was just trying to save the funding for patients that were his friends or family. Earlier in the day, a volunteer had told the patient that he had some serious cataracts that could easily be fixed to improve his vision. The volunteer meant no harm, and the majority of patients we see do have cataracts that can be removed, but I learned an important lesson to always be careful in what you say to patients, especially when you are in no position to understand their condition. Whether it's in a church in Ghana while on an outreach, a doctor's office back home, or in a class at BYU, I know I need to be careful in making assumptions and sharing advice that's beyond the limits of my own understanding.
Although Monday was definitely the hardest since coming to Ghana, I learned an important lesson. It was miserable to sit there and watch Dr. Brako see patient after patient when he was so exhausted and fatigued. I had no ability to relieve the burden other than trying to get him to drink water and massage his shoulders. I literally sat there all day long, but I was more tired than I'd ever been when I got home that night. I learned that at the end of the day, I'm going to be tired whether or not I worked hard to accomplish something or sat around and did nothing. If both things still lead to fatigue, I might as well work hard, help others, and feel joy instead of just sitting around.
I also witnessed the enabling power and strength that comes when we truly see those around us. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, we arrived at the villages to a massive gather of 200+ patients and an inevitably long day. On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Brako was going strong and acting like the champion he is. One of the coordinators called me over while I was talking to some of the patients and told me he had a favor to ask. He touched my shoulder, leaned in close, and whispered in my ear, "Trevor, you need to tell Dr. Brako he needs to hurry up. We are going to be here until midnight if he doesn't start rushing a bit. He won't listen to me, so please tell him..." I first gave a look of incredulity at the coordinator, then I felt the shame and fear start to rush in as I thought of telling Dr. Brako to speed up when he was already doing all he could, but I couldn't ignore the coordinator's request. I tentatively and reluctantly walked over to Dr. Brako, spending time with each step and sat down. After he finished seeing a patient, I quickly said, "The coordinator wanted me to tell you something. The coordinator wanted me to remind you to go quicker if you want to get home before midnight." Despite my attempt to place the responsibility on the coordinator, Dr. Brako said, "Trevor, my patients and my coworkers are my family (that was sad with a frown and certainly made me a little sad considering he has children and a wife back home). These people have been waiting eight hours today to see me, and I'm going to spend my time with each one of them. If they're going to wait to see me, I'm going to wait and listen to what they have to say." I was so moved and floored by this response. I definitely wish St. Thomas would hire another optometrist to take the burden off of Dr. Brako and make the outreaches more efficient/effective, but I was proud of Dr. Brako for standing up for what he believed in. Despite his inevitable desire to eat dinner, relax, go home to his family, and speed through the patients, he deliberately made an effort to treat each person as an individual that deserved his complete care and attention. I want to do my best to see each person around me like Dr. Brako treats his patients each and every day. He is there for the patients, and he understands the importance of listening and patience in addition to applying his skills as an optometrist.
There have been so many other experiences and miracles in the past few days, but it's currently one in the morning, and I'm waking up at six tomorrow for another long day somewhere in Ghana. Keep smiling, keep serving, and keep loving. I'll post again soon!!
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