tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38673265765277602292024-02-20T11:31:02.271+02:00Summer in Botswanahayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-19285353505503884772011-09-08T02:09:00.005+02:002011-09-08T04:30:36.234+02:00Wrapping Things Up Part III: What I'm thankful for<div style="font-family: inherit;"><style>
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</style> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><u>What I’m thankful for (or who in my case)</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xuo7FcTm79SOktseIh-AOsWmF6ub8xoVrAQ-SFyJrBI1BTQn_wHCbGJB_T6xPcejqzcDiAjGZz1OgjWhApjnn_X0_UlySWorrwiyYuoBtNQNeZwIl1CjZWsAzsDAT2K3cin6VVuCI78z/s1600/DSC00208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xuo7FcTm79SOktseIh-AOsWmF6ub8xoVrAQ-SFyJrBI1BTQn_wHCbGJB_T6xPcejqzcDiAjGZz1OgjWhApjnn_X0_UlySWorrwiyYuoBtNQNeZwIl1CjZWsAzsDAT2K3cin6VVuCI78z/s200/DSC00208.JPG" width="166" /></a>The biggest gift I got in Botswana was the chance to work with an amazing group of people. This experience would have been nothing without them. I was blown away with their generosity in teaching me and I am hell-bent on “paying it forward” at every available opportunity. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Dr. Kovarik</b>: she is the principle investigator of the vulvar cancer study and she is the one who sent my to Botswana. First of all, I am in awe of her: her accomplishments are staggering especially given how young she is. More than that, I am impressed by her can-do attitude: she is involved with so many projects and . I was introduced to her by a dermatologist I was shadowing and within our first meeting she set me up with this opportunity and even tried to help me find another project for last spring. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Her trust in me was really humbling and I was determined not to let her down. She was so supportive of my throughout this whole process: responding thoughtfully to my emails and encouraging me to pick up other projects. Also, I really appreciate that Dr. Kovarik was willing to let me shape my own experience. Not only that, she really listened to my input when I raised concerns or offered suggestions on how to better the study. I can't believe how lucky I was to have had this opportunity and I really hope I can work with her in the future. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Jennifer </b>(aka Jenny G): although Jenny was only around for a week, I feel like I found a lifelong friend (yes, corny). Jenny gave me permission to unleash my inner derm nerd. She would answer streams of questions, let me do board exam practice questions with her and talk to me about how I can get more involved with derm at Penn. I can’t think of a more patient, non-pretentious and thoughtful teacher than Jenny. I am actually writing this post on a bus to NYC and one of the reasons I’m going (besides my birthday on Monday!) is to see Jenny who just took her first job there! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozE0V1Lcztzry7R4_gaWxsM9YqeJ7awcZMidcnn2r3sWYimFw54j05q5OfQfPHHCYaPVFoS3v9HEyFwlIMzc_MpTzfj_zulUPzJMoN0QTTrTZdrcX1n3Yogfjx4IL2AOKOfbYG-cNd-1M/s1600/Picture+4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49sU0ZswqUmrLyKXfMIha1J3IQ4e2rRxIxGQAcpnQ0-rY7Cak-dAvidHjEuAa8MP5Z4tARHJkhIgw_GTWBbrRgzsIuYEmA8IED8BqTMaNrj16vO0n8-YQkcoeoWOQz__zG2C2tt-p4vu2/s1600/Picture+7.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49sU0ZswqUmrLyKXfMIha1J3IQ4e2rRxIxGQAcpnQ0-rY7Cak-dAvidHjEuAa8MP5Z4tARHJkhIgw_GTWBbrRgzsIuYEmA8IED8BqTMaNrj16vO0n8-YQkcoeoWOQz__zG2C2tt-p4vu2/s200/Picture+7.png" style="cursor: move;" width="140" /></a><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozE0V1Lcztzry7R4_gaWxsM9YqeJ7awcZMidcnn2r3sWYimFw54j05q5OfQfPHHCYaPVFoS3v9HEyFwlIMzc_MpTzfj_zulUPzJMoN0QTTrTZdrcX1n3Yogfjx4IL2AOKOfbYG-cNd-1M/s200/Picture+4.png" width="200" /> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Aileen:</b> Aileen is a fourth year at Penn and I've adopted her as my "derm big sister." We met before Bots and clicked right away. She offered me advice on everything from when to do my rotation to which necklace to wear and she was even nice enough to let me help her with a mobile learning study. I'm psyched that she's in Philly another year. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I've already written about Kari and Dougie so I'll keep in brief but no list of mentors would be complete without these two:</span></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoO7fBge2DVOKJ0Q-iwhEHwVVMnt-sd44njKMD3n2qcIu7QcdPF66_xJ01gwwh3DHswPiI7wAjVumjEzRkoLUHo378LCzMth58tT1iiGKMsRagYxDKClMsd2L9lDsOGd7tzya7XYkf3EG/s1600/P1000992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoO7fBge2DVOKJ0Q-iwhEHwVVMnt-sd44njKMD3n2qcIu7QcdPF66_xJ01gwwh3DHswPiI7wAjVumjEzRkoLUHo378LCzMth58tT1iiGKMsRagYxDKClMsd2L9lDsOGd7tzya7XYkf3EG/s320/P1000992.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Kari (aka the Wanat aka Armageddon)</b>: Kari Wanat may be the nicest person ever but trust me, she is no pushover. Her arrival was a burst of enthusiasm and to say that she is hardworking and intelligent is an understatement. And her unique combo of disarming smile + midwestern accent + determination is amazingly effective at getting things done!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Doug (aka Dougie Fresh)</b>: my partner in crime for 4 weeks and one of the funniest people I have ever met. He was endlessly patient with me and my insane amount of questions and a great doctor.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As you can see, I was really blessed to have hung out with such an awesome crew. They shaped my experience in such a major way. I am but a lowly med student peon so I can't express enough gratitude for how much they included me and shared their knowledge and experience. So thanks to team derm for making this such an unforgettable summer! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">P. S. Thanks so much to Jessica Mikulski and Penn for spotlighting my blog on the <a href="http://www.uphs.upenn.edu/news/features/botswana/">Penn Medicine website</a> Renee Chenault-Fattah for interviewing me on NBC Healthwatch before I left/featuring my blog on their facebook page, and Lisa Katz for linking my blog on the PSOM alumni page. Lastly, thanks to my grandmother for reading this blog because despite all the above publicity, I'm pretty sure she's the only one to actually read most of it (confirmed by the fact that my own mother admitted to being a periodic reader...love you mom!). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">P.P.S If you reallllllly miss my killer puns and witty prose (I'm looking at you Nana)....I'm blogging as a part of the <a href="http://perelman-student-life.blogspot.com/2011/08/earthquakes-and-hurricaines-and.html">Perelman School of Medicine blog</a>. No meerkats or lions (yet....) but I've already posted a picture of me waist deep in the dirty water of the Schuylkill river so that might be worth a gander just to laugh at my poor judgment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-24932784044597459842011-09-08T01:41:00.001+02:002011-09-08T04:22:37.973+02:00Wrapping Things Up Part II: What I will take away from this experience<style>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I filled 3 of these books with crazy bits of derm trivia!</td></tr>
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</style><b>1. A love of dermatology</b>: I learned so much in a very literal sense: while my Setswana didn’t improve as much as I might have liked, I learned so much of the language of dermatology. And I loved it. I can't wait to get more involved now that I'm back at school. I've been finding cardio tough so I've started a game with Kari where I email her the disease we are learning about and she replies with the skin problems that go along with that disease. Luckily Jen donated a large pile of derm books so I'll have plenty of opportunity to keep learning. I know, I know...I'm a huge nerd. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;"><b>2. The knowledge that I want to make international work a part of my career</b>. I felt so at home in Bots and I felt the same way in Malawi. I can't wait to find out how my career evolves to include this passion. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How could you not want to work somewhere this amazing? </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;"><b>3.</b> Most importantly however, I learned, or rather got<b> re-acquainted with, my own competence. </b>Medical school isn’t kind to everyone and although I’ve been very successful grades-wise, I’ve been struggling with my own version of the imposter syndrome common to medical students: I keep waiting for someone to “find out” that I am not as smart or as hardworking as my classmates. And frankly, in some ways, that is true. I am not great at sustained periods of memorization and that is the key to med school success in many ways. I think that last year, I always felt sort of bad because I wasn’t spending as much time with the material as my classmates. As we learned in psychiatry, situations like that can set you up to create a very negative self-evaluation. Fears about not living up to my potential made it hard to be proud even though I did really well in terms of external markers like grades.</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-align: left; text-indent: -5.75pt;">Botswana was the antidote to that feeling: I wanted to go to work...wanted to stay longer at work... wanted to find projects that would give me more work and I did that work well enough that people started giving me more and more responsibility. Positive feedback is always great but feeling proud of myself was the best feeling in the world. So basically, I had the opportunity to re-ignite my passion for medicine while meeting and working with some truly amazing people. I will echo my first post....<b>am I lucky or what?</b></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.2in; text-indent: -5.75pt;"></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-41300137373098534232011-09-08T01:20:00.001+02:002011-09-08T01:21:24.359+02:00Wrapping things up: Part I- Botswana Survival Guide<span style="font-size: small;">Ever since I’ve been back, I’ve been trying to synthesize my Botswana experience and decode what it meant to me, what I learned and how I wanted to grow as a result of my time there. Sheesh. Talk about biting off more than you can chew. This sort of experience, unsurprisingly, doesn’t take kindly to attempts to categorize, contain or label it in a consise way but as per usual, I’m going to try my best. Also per usual, I was feeling verbose and thus am going to split up my thoughts into 3 posts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Patience, perseverance and the delicate combo thereof</b>: my experience in Malawi gave me a leg up on this one: it can be so incredibly frustrating to work in a developing country. Most people think that is because of a lack of resources: “it must be hard to want to treat someone with a medicine or procedure that you don’t have.” I suppose that is true, but I think that most people who do this kind of work are prepared to make the best of what is available. What people are less prepared for is dealing with what people like to term “cultural differences” or “inefficiencies” (I find these somewhat euphemistic). </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard to get frustrated when you get to see babies in clinic</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;">I told Kari of the metaphor I like to use for my interactions at the hospital: one of the those dolls that you punch but they keep springing back up. Whenever I wanted to accomplish something (fix a microscope, check on a patient, get a photocopy, install software etc), I would get rebuffed or redirected almost instantly: “why don’t you talk to Mr. So and So, come back later, we don’t do that here etc etc.” I'd call it <b>getting PMH-ed</b>. The trick was not to get annoyed by that or respond by being pushy. I would simply write down the information I needed and say “What is Mr. So and So’s phone number? I will be here tomorrow at 8:00 and I hope to find him here.” Do this enough and people realize that you are serious and they will help you. Remarkably effective actually. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>When all else fails, use junk food</b>: It is important to remember that you are a guest. While you should never compromise when it comes to an issue of patient care, it’s still important to be polite and respectful. Bringing offerings of food never hurts. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Behold the transformative power of cake! Saying thank you to all my lab buddies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"> <b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Let go of your elitism</b>: it would be really easy to leave Botswana disgusted by way some things are handled. And it’s true- there is no excuse for letting patient care fall by the wayside. It was hard to stomach sometimes: I met doctors who seemed not to care about their patients, nurses who would routinely use facebook during clinic etc etc. One time I tried to bring a very ill patient into the dermatology clinic room but the nurses insisted I find somewhere else because they wanted to go home. Patients weren’t generally handled with deference and I saw some things that really horrified me. It would be easy to emerge from this experience smug in the knowledge that many of these issue would be better handled in the US….BUT let’s remember that the US fails on patient care in other ways: we order unnecessary tests, practice defensive medicine, don’t spend enough time with our patients and we are participating in a healthcare system that is unsustainable. So coming from a place of judgment not only limits what you can learn from a place, it also is sort of hypocritical.<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going above and beyond: a nurse at Kanye</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Try not to generalize:</b> Many of the physicians I met did not take initiative at all, many would try to shunt responsibility whenever possible. In some ways, this colored my experience at the start of my trip especially because the nurses I worked with in Malawi were dedicated almost to a fault. However, for every lazy lab tech, sullen nurse and irresponsible doctor- there were 3 other people who would go above and beyond for patients, their colleagues etc. I was blown away by the microbiology lab worker who let us look at crfptococcuc under the microscope just so we could learn or Bonnie, the nurse who looked up a patient’s phone number (I still have no idea how she did that) so we could ask if they got treatment for a DVT.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span>Most importantly...<b>secure the door to your room on safari</b>: or a monkey will come in and steal your coffee...duh!<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-50550169249875487702011-09-08T01:01:00.000+02:002011-09-08T01:01:21.411+02:00Things that make me chuckle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCoECJzxMLR0R_bn-pZDyoJ63sASHenp6RrmPAyDneCH5TWYdUQIjNPptRQrRmTrVmMGpntjAzRVT3iB9pcsAwupSrowB0Inph3EyeFadRNOf7JEXlHC8FjWMlcJIxCZX9zdcCS9fUutw/s1600/P1010361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCoECJzxMLR0R_bn-pZDyoJ63sASHenp6RrmPAyDneCH5TWYdUQIjNPptRQrRmTrVmMGpntjAzRVT3iB9pcsAwupSrowB0Inph3EyeFadRNOf7JEXlHC8FjWMlcJIxCZX9zdcCS9fUutw/s320/P1010361.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC-SlTIjUhz0jwUZofF09fw1ZQyvdBOQ5AZ87Vnka7wcaImYXAgRPSeD8-VVp8K5VsEXApdcp0OnXVntC_OatcWBY65ARmC9erj7oM611JuI7GO3OsEpkJPHTtqXmXgB1M4nCpRd4y14e/s1600/IMAG0418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC-SlTIjUhz0jwUZofF09fw1ZQyvdBOQ5AZ87Vnka7wcaImYXAgRPSeD8-VVp8K5VsEXApdcp0OnXVntC_OatcWBY65ARmC9erj7oM611JuI7GO3OsEpkJPHTtqXmXgB1M4nCpRd4y14e/s320/IMAG0418.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFx8XNrGCAWYsvbAJ9RqHitWoWIulFZAYiLmntyoC5vcTe15UmI7VkO2KYP5GfQrDAHl0W80CPrAhxG4E2LTDG97PbYb6Xw1lRluDTlb4CxmV2nWFI9FfcbOh-ACAFXqeAhIQ_6aZ5xey6/s1600/IMAG0331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFx8XNrGCAWYsvbAJ9RqHitWoWIulFZAYiLmntyoC5vcTe15UmI7VkO2KYP5GfQrDAHl0W80CPrAhxG4E2LTDG97PbYb6Xw1lRluDTlb4CxmV2nWFI9FfcbOh-ACAFXqeAhIQ_6aZ5xey6/s320/IMAG0331.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"Beauty Clinic: for all your Psychiatric Treatments"</b></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjRvYt3Q83Oncx49D4621zSO7v90ccTZTkhUGbYPJ1XSRU2_JG_jOfT9J0JGbJ3jJYHj806HXNjusoiLbkOuOlC0qPMeGTBj2aL3XcDzTaFrFfvhDnXEzYf0Cc-CjHZHbuLRGKOdzt_ek/s1600/IMAG0330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjRvYt3Q83Oncx49D4621zSO7v90ccTZTkhUGbYPJ1XSRU2_JG_jOfT9J0JGbJ3jJYHj806HXNjusoiLbkOuOlC0qPMeGTBj2aL3XcDzTaFrFfvhDnXEzYf0Cc-CjHZHbuLRGKOdzt_ek/s320/IMAG0330.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4T_REqnjZ-CoqW-daf-urMj7woynBxPM-hdELfioeMtKfsSCx6zSnRdwLb04dp0tFqNlvTyzbygjJ61mmsTJGBWDwA1w7AZp5F5W69KSSIVIJD0QthdCedV5ZIgFN0FwvWYqe4rJMBxo/s1600/IMAG0477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4T_REqnjZ-CoqW-daf-urMj7woynBxPM-hdELfioeMtKfsSCx6zSnRdwLb04dp0tFqNlvTyzbygjJ61mmsTJGBWDwA1w7AZp5F5W69KSSIVIJD0QthdCedV5ZIgFN0FwvWYqe4rJMBxo/s320/IMAG0477.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"Pubic Servants are expected to be Polite and Efficient"</b></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejS2ijoMIho0-42hT2sqXy5EMDqyovuTwgKvEiaWPGwXfCKKxuUBYUEaBxnSWdncDxvYO_Kuf_Hic7yZY61USv3fmBpMeElL2r8By8cFZFUHBwk0M7C1AdvXERXSD-dDOeA9AMOiiJzik/s1600/IMAG0443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejS2ijoMIho0-42hT2sqXy5EMDqyovuTwgKvEiaWPGwXfCKKxuUBYUEaBxnSWdncDxvYO_Kuf_Hic7yZY61USv3fmBpMeElL2r8By8cFZFUHBwk0M7C1AdvXERXSD-dDOeA9AMOiiJzik/s320/IMAG0443.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-19642414894502382192011-09-08T01:00:00.000+02:002011-09-08T01:00:54.366+02:00Leaving Botswana (aka FOMO central)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeU2DnxC_r1NW1gnzjye5zx3r3QCAym0J9G2qsgw01JUorbbTuFYg0f4NHxU4qvt2F9AgKFPCrvxCYBE_6W27l4zlh3xzlRlXiUrWNIH_E9hNXts3vaDwjs8iMGmKcbje1Okfxn46yHu1x/s1600/DSC00395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeU2DnxC_r1NW1gnzjye5zx3r3QCAym0J9G2qsgw01JUorbbTuFYg0f4NHxU4qvt2F9AgKFPCrvxCYBE_6W27l4zlh3xzlRlXiUrWNIH_E9hNXts3vaDwjs8iMGmKcbje1Okfxn46yHu1x/s320/DSC00395.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last day: With Dr. Pina and Dr. Motsepe (both dematologists)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I really didn't want to leave Botswana. Like REALLY didn't want to leave. To the point where Kari and I were scheming up ways that I could change my plane ticket (turns out if I didn't fly home on the 10th the next available flight was on the 31st so that was a no go). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9L3JMsSjzKrLQpwknoeApfrvUe6YV6iucc3QGXMLOR6WK2xtlM_kX3P108mqreKOL8viAxK3pKajX_3FI3SmMw9bRucOrpdr98-L-AggoLNlayXmcaUUx_FkXoPKgz6ZhMvHHpd2B0gvf/s1600/DSC00412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9L3JMsSjzKrLQpwknoeApfrvUe6YV6iucc3QGXMLOR6WK2xtlM_kX3P108mqreKOL8viAxK3pKajX_3FI3SmMw9bRucOrpdr98-L-AggoLNlayXmcaUUx_FkXoPKgz6ZhMvHHpd2B0gvf/s320/DSC00412.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Byebye Bots :(</td></tr>
</tbody></table>First of all, I had such an incredible summer. Second of all I was having a major case of FOMO, which is "Fear Of Missing Out." How could I leave when my flatmates were planning a camping trip? And we'd just gotten started hearing our results for pathology- how could I leave when I didn't know if firm flesh colored papules were trichilemmomas or angiofibromas? <br />
<br />
But alas, resistance was futile and I had to say my goodbyes. My flight was in the evening but I insisted on a full day at clinic/lab. We had a celebration with the path lab people (complete with a cake we brought to say thank you for putting up with us), hugged all the nurses, checked that the VisualDx was running OK and promised everyone I'd come back as soon as possible. <br />
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My flight was uneventful and I was home in no time (and by no time I mean a full 26 hours later) Le sigh. I miss Botswana already. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1l_Wo3LQKmcgZABt2LN5ex7sX03KrM9kMd4fa0dAZ5eUo8kv-CJmxOT0UIE0ngarEfQP1UBWtRN_PiZD_smP-XVHKcDKXI729aosQyaDvOoJ5MU1PQmYPx9FQ_qm-hAqKiiaSTC9rJEm9/s1600/DSC00410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1l_Wo3LQKmcgZABt2LN5ex7sX03KrM9kMd4fa0dAZ5eUo8kv-CJmxOT0UIE0ngarEfQP1UBWtRN_PiZD_smP-XVHKcDKXI729aosQyaDvOoJ5MU1PQmYPx9FQ_qm-hAqKiiaSTC9rJEm9/s200/DSC00410.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The airport in Gaborone is so nice! Crazy to think that they have this nice airport but not enough beds in the hospital. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-75881305579730491292011-09-08T00:45:00.000+02:002011-09-08T00:45:47.608+02:00Bahhston!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyp1-IWdXvhOlOc8KccQfsvowUhuQ75BtGfr1y9H88Gq_HCbUdKZQWzj-_ROnEmKsl5l2FJEtYMPQwFKl-Pc24JPQh7Q15qYIQ1GbfAIeIMNVxAU0gGSWHN_1F2Ly5ylpH_BVVtwKvPd4d/s1600/IMAG0339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyp1-IWdXvhOlOc8KccQfsvowUhuQ75BtGfr1y9H88Gq_HCbUdKZQWzj-_ROnEmKsl5l2FJEtYMPQwFKl-Pc24JPQh7Q15qYIQ1GbfAIeIMNVxAU0gGSWHN_1F2Ly5ylpH_BVVtwKvPd4d/s200/IMAG0339.jpg" width="110" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Loving that Boston pride! </span><span style="font-size: small;">This is Koziba, the 2nd oldest daughter of Hilda (who is the housekeeper in the flat I stay in). She is 18, a bundle of energy and she has an adorable 1 yr old named Prince. The shirt was a gift from Ryan who is from Boston and now lives and works in Gabs (he works for Dr. Kovarik actually). Just thought I'd share the Bruins love. </span>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-77956095626840495232011-09-08T00:44:00.000+02:002011-09-08T00:44:01.070+02:00Bad blogger!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvoK0IuTBhL9jQyMFB_wyBQWhdWfwDe84aluxrnCeGTubFw7CZ7QBZhi9OD71tXCq6gaYDTaG_Dp4h4qX2rmYN195xltiMtFkTZyY9nj4U1Z66-ZUQ-1NViOIQA424_1TolMuVPcLLCTw/s1600/IMG_5329_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvoK0IuTBhL9jQyMFB_wyBQWhdWfwDe84aluxrnCeGTubFw7CZ7QBZhi9OD71tXCq6gaYDTaG_Dp4h4qX2rmYN195xltiMtFkTZyY9nj4U1Z66-ZUQ-1NViOIQA424_1TolMuVPcLLCTw/s1600/IMG_5329_2.jpg" /></a>So....obviously I'm back in Philadelphia (2.5 weeks deep into cardiology no less). Clearly I got too distracted by the lions and pizza to update the blog. My bad.<br />
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I'm going to post a few things that I'd been meaning to finish and then I will write a post that sort of concludes my experience.<br />
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As a peace offering for my derelict behavior: I've included a picture of me petting a cheetah!hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-13292044292536054552011-08-07T22:45:00.000+02:002011-08-07T22:45:50.772+02:00Out of Office Reply<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrnP4AOgq0heuBIivbcFiDRpOYkkPQORzklrN6kIs4g1uZomRvfVQzB8kJqr2NDgYxRbQSSd2NwVjumXWRDZKxR_zyUMZSCIL4Rj27jTMWEeIq0VWdOfSWXnx05Wbc4kE_OcPCmfUfVlm/s1600/P1020060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrnP4AOgq0heuBIivbcFiDRpOYkkPQORzklrN6kIs4g1uZomRvfVQzB8kJqr2NDgYxRbQSSd2NwVjumXWRDZKxR_zyUMZSCIL4Rj27jTMWEeIq0VWdOfSWXnx05Wbc4kE_OcPCmfUfVlm/s400/P1020060.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Out of office reply from Hayley G: the aforementioned blogger has spent the weekend in South Africa (again) seeing lots of cool animals (again). Upon her return she elected to eat takeout pizza and edit photos of lions instead of updating her silly little blog. <br />
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She regrets any inconvenience this may cause her adoring public (i.e her grandmother)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5lU62IvRPsDFJur0gLppNDUBYILOMU1ekTGJE0yD2SNqeUX55zC8vID0qMdQXlES_sYHUMuf7bRseYPvoi-FmBjWewLqYho3wz_7wO3g8Z0S6Yv9Su97DmuJRPXF642fKeL4544X6saN/s1600/P1010908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5lU62IvRPsDFJur0gLppNDUBYILOMU1ekTGJE0yD2SNqeUX55zC8vID0qMdQXlES_sYHUMuf7bRseYPvoi-FmBjWewLqYho3wz_7wO3g8Z0S6Yv9Su97DmuJRPXF642fKeL4544X6saN/s320/P1010908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9O1GDCZCEo1k5U88K6919iyUssC0kbOMwtrw2-j4DybMamrKRnVptf4huOzIt_DxOeLk1fJjwxXvgDDVNhOIiS2HdbS2ooFRHCWmEE3RRixeoK_dDVuhCewr6L21nMv-BGc9rBWVEeJlR/s1600/P1010837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9O1GDCZCEo1k5U88K6919iyUssC0kbOMwtrw2-j4DybMamrKRnVptf4huOzIt_DxOeLk1fJjwxXvgDDVNhOIiS2HdbS2ooFRHCWmEE3RRixeoK_dDVuhCewr6L21nMv-BGc9rBWVEeJlR/s320/P1010837.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVZsPFXRl1YOcqjjNHaJY_tJHLk674oxJZh6A1HTJnvlJQ5btNKWnDLydrwtknpB6WGUf_eHlUBtrrnavDqwY82iblCOwEzAxd63okDJ0IrP9T7giEPH2ljyuw7mSGvjuCR2sPSRtTYyD/s1600/DSC00214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVZsPFXRl1YOcqjjNHaJY_tJHLk674oxJZh6A1HTJnvlJQ5btNKWnDLydrwtknpB6WGUf_eHlUBtrrnavDqwY82iblCOwEzAxd63okDJ0IrP9T7giEPH2ljyuw7mSGvjuCR2sPSRtTYyD/s320/DSC00214.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFPj1KgN_a5c6pWZch0bDIfBnyFm4QeNovKN3HUbz__F3qAjhR02wH2AA8OstUTeeRohkVpHMt4LPJZaImTXeaRhA011m97yco3q2lPLHiEBCci6Nc775As1ZEKNtLRYqLCWnGSpADc9t/s1600/P1010926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFPj1KgN_a5c6pWZch0bDIfBnyFm4QeNovKN3HUbz__F3qAjhR02wH2AA8OstUTeeRohkVpHMt4LPJZaImTXeaRhA011m97yco3q2lPLHiEBCci6Nc775As1ZEKNtLRYqLCWnGSpADc9t/s320/P1010926.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold early morning game drives merit Safari ponchos/snuggies.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuzMLXnU57KQoC9msbcDFy1P7thXwgfwHi9szlAsPReOq3wFWOMnnvsXuY-Nfpq8fWtvzriDLE3cL85lwcFoWFPqhVJ8D53nGOybXvm47wxlShsB9Y60x_mbA8N6AUNecBc-orHj1YhdP/s1600/DSC00367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuzMLXnU57KQoC9msbcDFy1P7thXwgfwHi9szlAsPReOq3wFWOMnnvsXuY-Nfpq8fWtvzriDLE3cL85lwcFoWFPqhVJ8D53nGOybXvm47wxlShsB9Y60x_mbA8N6AUNecBc-orHj1YhdP/s320/DSC00367.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a go at the slingshot (they use it to deter monkeys from stealing food. We could have used it when a monkey snuck into Liam's room and stole a packet of instant coffee.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-89971387883034309802011-08-04T22:10:00.000+02:002011-08-04T22:10:16.024+02:00Walking to workTakes about 30 min to walk from the flat where I live to the hospital. It's actually a great start/end to the day. I usually take this opportunity to unleash a flood of derm questions that have been building up during the day. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilBmbIdy-0d7H45X5GcqH8w2VjHMjCdknyKIgZs5DPtYCtPnPqQcjSReAuOSFIkPekn6sqWhDWdsQeUJ3iIwAdYnJmqGoB7Xd4UYUmay135hWVGivJMKfGKmhCxuBGp7mg5Df8QLtH8JKa/s1600/IMAG0272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilBmbIdy-0d7H45X5GcqH8w2VjHMjCdknyKIgZs5DPtYCtPnPqQcjSReAuOSFIkPekn6sqWhDWdsQeUJ3iIwAdYnJmqGoB7Xd4UYUmay135hWVGivJMKfGKmhCxuBGp7mg5Df8QLtH8JKa/s400/IMAG0272.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-76088756360838545182011-08-03T19:59:00.000+02:002011-08-03T19:59:07.685+02:00LunchtimeNow that Doug is gone, Fresh Cafe has been put on hold (and is now probably out of business) and we've decided to explore some of the local (much cheaper) cuisine. We started with the Nurse's association which serves you a heaping plate of food for 16 pula ($2.50). We got there early because we heard that they run out of food so we met up with Panda (Liam) at 11:45. No one was there but they told us to sit down. Long story short, we finally got our food 1 hour later. Kari was basically going into hypoglycemic shock. Ah, Botswana time- how I will miss thee. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEn6ivdfEir_GF5ngSyJZQyxwhfw2Fddg3e4Fh4znbcb43JRa4-s9AVTcwsjbTjadhyHZbMj5P8Iu9ywm-2WrvRkdjXQUY-RAaNVp0_56dAQWd44CH8mZCQuuBFSyFtGC-XUYTTc4g6bkm/s1600/IMAG0458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEn6ivdfEir_GF5ngSyJZQyxwhfw2Fddg3e4Fh4znbcb43JRa4-s9AVTcwsjbTjadhyHZbMj5P8Iu9ywm-2WrvRkdjXQUY-RAaNVp0_56dAQWd44CH8mZCQuuBFSyFtGC-XUYTTc4g6bkm/s320/IMAG0458.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kari's smile is hiding her desperation</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbyUdNjMh4_eaN36SxnVf1oQe7du2_Zpx9T28BDF9N4a0ESswnUrEc1vKyLesdBP3Upix4ZjJwRQJyjB6a90hBbJN217aBbYZv58IxOwknGiuAhIl291Gw-YbD4ajy0goGrW9mZw6JvNL/s1600/IMAG0466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbyUdNjMh4_eaN36SxnVf1oQe7du2_Zpx9T28BDF9N4a0ESswnUrEc1vKyLesdBP3Upix4ZjJwRQJyjB6a90hBbJN217aBbYZv58IxOwknGiuAhIl291Gw-YbD4ajy0goGrW9mZw6JvNL/s320/IMAG0466.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The nurse's association has no sign and is on an unmarked dirt path</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The next day we tried the "white house," a small restaurant-type place a block from the hospital where we payed a whooping 25 pula ($3.80) for our meals. Again, we were early (and we wonder why America has an obesity problem) and the lady who was serving the food let us sample everything. We settled on chicken, <b>phaletshe</b> (a maize paste just like ncima from Malawi) and <b>begobe </b>(a brownish porridge made from sorghum and maize. And no, I have no idea what sorghum is). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZ29YmG2IqrlG7dZiNJmlDtlIrKWF5TRQltdNTrUnKDSy5Rct9p-60yMEw713tWisFaoNkECda2gLYkZk4GUT8CGO-yiInykuYq6AM0BP__qw7H-83A01LzcFSoUYbXQ213ptp_6YoCtn/s1600/IMAG0504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZ29YmG2IqrlG7dZiNJmlDtlIrKWF5TRQltdNTrUnKDSy5Rct9p-60yMEw713tWisFaoNkECda2gLYkZk4GUT8CGO-yiInykuYq6AM0BP__qw7H-83A01LzcFSoUYbXQ213ptp_6YoCtn/s320/IMAG0504.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiseboNzqiWDPYgdcgC_K0eLZ45LI1g6PZdL0b6knagwrmTXkPIk-BLl61OEZb-dsbPbEqQiq0CX6Z_fpmZGVwe-k-sWpTJtylEZnNFP79h497fhSps8xogWdKVPoB6yGSJQuBSes2tKrJf/s1600/IMAG0506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiseboNzqiWDPYgdcgC_K0eLZ45LI1g6PZdL0b6knagwrmTXkPIk-BLl61OEZb-dsbPbEqQiq0CX6Z_fpmZGVwe-k-sWpTJtylEZnNFP79h497fhSps8xogWdKVPoB6yGSJQuBSes2tKrJf/s320/IMAG0506.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfYjPKjCB7x1rouEqnTf1nrD55mcQjdEEjTi3BlAOZ70FEOYRn67FVFv1sBvbWnp3qCKUcpCPJJpA10rZvvRvpaYT0j2zmoLC0yhmYdh8pOLSFUW20BGn9bTUOJxEdAh9NEh2tQoJ8pRZ/s1600/P1010521.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfYjPKjCB7x1rouEqnTf1nrD55mcQjdEEjTi3BlAOZ70FEOYRn67FVFv1sBvbWnp3qCKUcpCPJJpA10rZvvRvpaYT0j2zmoLC0yhmYdh8pOLSFUW20BGn9bTUOJxEdAh9NEh2tQoJ8pRZ/s320/P1010521.jpg" width="276" /></a></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-70287197472097487432011-08-02T22:04:00.000+02:002011-08-02T22:04:29.228+02:00VisualDx Success<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq86xpbrK3LKRBOCYsLzYUzgr39nUjrSCN5KWSc-u83ehpKbkMUpnGYYWKqPIlEJeDOlOCMqzRINq0B86b6NR-CoSV8xPzNqOen2F7ztBDW6FjjqPmu53b80sPqiwh8tWzgJ6vN_fJtNsh/s1600/P1000988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq86xpbrK3LKRBOCYsLzYUzgr39nUjrSCN5KWSc-u83ehpKbkMUpnGYYWKqPIlEJeDOlOCMqzRINq0B86b6NR-CoSV8xPzNqOen2F7ztBDW6FjjqPmu53b80sPqiwh8tWzgJ6vN_fJtNsh/s400/P1000988.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Using VisualDx Mobile with some pediatric residents in derm clinic</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="font-family: inherit;"> <style>
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</style> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the projects I picked up while in Botswana is introducing a computer program called VisualDx (I wrote about it in an earlier post). It’s a super-impressive program with a very user-friendly interface that helps generate a differential diagnosis (list of possible diseases) for dermatology cases. It’s pretty amazing and we don’t even have it at PennMed yet (hint hint) but the creators donated a copy to Princess Marina Hospital.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">Getting <i>anything</i> done at Princess Marina Hospital is a huge to-do and VisualDx was no exception. Finding the library, finding a working computer and getting the permission to install a program on a computer all involved numerous phone calls, text messages and visits to far-flung corners of the hospital. But anyone who knows me knows that I don't shy away from a challenge and I was determined to get this off the ground.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">That gauntlet was nothing, however, compared to introducing it to the Department of Medicine. The original idea was to identify motivated residents, train them, and have them “spread the love.” I identified a few but they seemed reluctant and I was unsure if they would spread the knowledge. One of the head doctors told me to talk about it at morning report and then require all the doctors to have a training session. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">Quick background- morning report is brutal. BRUTAL. Half the room is asleep and participation is literally unheard of. They once had a session assigning doctors to update certain protocols (each doctor was required to work on one section). They would read out a category and ask for volunteers and would be met with stony silence until the resident in charge assigned someone that section. This request-silence cycle went on for <b>20</b> different categories. It was painful.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">Needless to say, the possibility of requiring these folks to do anything was less than desirable. Therefore, we decided instead to bring VisualDx to morning report. Kari was presenting a case (she nicely bumped the date of her presentation up to this week so I could present as well) and we incorporated VisualDx into her presentation. She talked about an ulcer that we saw on the wards and when she was done I showed how you could use VisualDx to create a differential that included the disease. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">Given the apathy that characterizes morning repot, I was basically expecting crickets. I was shocked when people actually seemed to be paying attention and even seemed interested in VisualDx! Not only that but they actually signed up for an <b>optional</b> tutorial session! I was flabbergasted! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkwTtECGlm1aYl2_2o-Tk5YipqHZ2vJUubElVxm8bfn8M1p2rnNDadzxLNAn5T094P2h3rfhaUOTfUWIY3eqnSkpJuAtVmZlRKgVMl6E1Dyp5vwR2LTzTsDQA2X30CGHhSdNIg-aZH6ugp/s1600/P1010539.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkwTtECGlm1aYl2_2o-Tk5YipqHZ2vJUubElVxm8bfn8M1p2rnNDadzxLNAn5T094P2h3rfhaUOTfUWIY3eqnSkpJuAtVmZlRKgVMl6E1Dyp5vwR2LTzTsDQA2X30CGHhSdNIg-aZH6ugp/s320/P1010539.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VisualDx tutorial</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"> The tutorial session went really well and next step is to work on installing the program on computers in the wards (which will involve approximately 14058434 visits to the wards, the IT department, the department of medicine etc…I get a headache just thinking about it<span></span>).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: small;"><span>I have really loved being a part of this project and the wheels in my head are already turning…maybe they could use VisualDx in outreach clinics in Botswana….or maybe Uganda where my mother is helping set up an ENT residency. Maybe they need a med student to travel and install it!</span><span><span></span></span><span> OK, OK, I’ll slow down and get some sleep. </span></span>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-14962006417663153562011-07-31T23:28:00.000+02:002011-07-31T23:28:58.469+02:00Sunday: Misadventures on Kgale Hill<div style="font-family: inherit;"> <style>
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</style> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTjxVrQ5-xsmfML34-7P1VM00ficGbs3CQ85Cxre1AQSPXJByz1Nxyta_yekDSiQOX2Y6YXoCL3l5YVZ5FDJeJsh004VHg70AvfjtENuwiYWnDm2hTVlbi9pqVTEkHYj0WS_NTkIDbcib1/s1600/P1010344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTjxVrQ5-xsmfML34-7P1VM00ficGbs3CQ85Cxre1AQSPXJByz1Nxyta_yekDSiQOX2Y6YXoCL3l5YVZ5FDJeJsh004VHg70AvfjtENuwiYWnDm2hTVlbi9pqVTEkHYj0WS_NTkIDbcib1/s320/P1010344.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjONpoUH_uUVoA_C-RpvRY9jn699th1LMkgCAJHRpohCyb5jkKxj9xZ2_PxRs4PX0Wvxf6K4RARX538QgNAABzR8rfEGZ-7pPZKV-bw85xs9WwZbv0h7fzwy91A32qNLc_HSwD_JlvgRH7M/s1600/Picture+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjONpoUH_uUVoA_C-RpvRY9jn699th1LMkgCAJHRpohCyb5jkKxj9xZ2_PxRs4PX0Wvxf6K4RARX538QgNAABzR8rfEGZ-7pPZKV-bw85xs9WwZbv0h7fzwy91A32qNLc_HSwD_JlvgRH7M/s320/Picture+2.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><u>The team</u>:</b> <b><span style="color: red;"></span></b>, <b><span style="color: red;">Armageddon</span> </b>(Kari) </span><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: red;">Kung Fu Panda</span> </b>(Liam, owing to the fact that he is a blackbelt in karate and captain of the Cambridge University karate team) </span><span style="font-size: small;">and <b style="color: red;">Bush Baby</b> (me).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><u>The mission</u>:</b> Climb Kgale hill. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJcRCrIBWhT65nntm5rBy4-AFvrAA01QDz_18VFmgVK9ESLnQLjsRL44kKAeVHEpbMa6sJBfGrJMh1CzmnchxglMoZxbHMgO2BjQKGZ4WwtVDty-_Ksr-arVYBGHPmPOSN-SQDaG_183G/s1600/P1010357.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJcRCrIBWhT65nntm5rBy4-AFvrAA01QDz_18VFmgVK9ESLnQLjsRL44kKAeVHEpbMa6sJBfGrJMh1CzmnchxglMoZxbHMgO2BjQKGZ4WwtVDty-_Ksr-arVYBGHPmPOSN-SQDaG_183G/s320/P1010357.JPG" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-size: small;">As we pulled up to the car park of our confidence had already swelled: this hike won’t take more than an hour total! We started on our hike full of vim and vigor. Panda took the lead, scrambling up the rocks like a nimble tree frog (and yes, I’m aware that tree frogs don’t scramble up rocks but cut me some slack). </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">We made it up the totally unmarked path (which consisted of huge boulders) with only a few hiccups and were treated to some breathtaking views of Gaborone. </span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqWABAIiKteQsFb5BBKocmkns2YtJL-v9iaZgWzlnX8H_VbQb7wwe01HDnV5g7uHVO9a4Fk-mqdemMjW1pyjsOfSYnGAsaA18IKQ6l6ecdgcJKFCEfJvINYWkwMkaAI3gmu63XbAKN4iM/s1600/P1010362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqWABAIiKteQsFb5BBKocmkns2YtJL-v9iaZgWzlnX8H_VbQb7wwe01HDnV5g7uHVO9a4Fk-mqdemMjW1pyjsOfSYnGAsaA18IKQ6l6ecdgcJKFCEfJvINYWkwMkaAI3gmu63XbAKN4iM/s320/P1010362.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Why are we outside the fenced path?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gleeful from our successful summit we started on our way back down. And this time we found a trail of green arrows! Smug, we practically skipped down the mountain and stopped to take the odd picture or two. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">All was rosy and well in out world until we discovered that we were <i>outside</i> the fenced, concrete path we were meant to be going down. Hmmm. We were still following the green path so we continued on our merry way. Who needs a path? We were hearty Botswana trail warriors! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">We continued with our green path for quite some time until we realized…approximately 1 hour later…that perchance we were veering slightly off course. How did we know? For one thing, we could barely even see the hill from which we had descended and for another, we heard the sounds of a quarry…the same quarry that we saw in the distance from the top of the hill. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">And still we didn’t worry. We were following a clearly(ish) marked path. But then we came to a 3-way split in the path and none of the 3 ways seemed to be correct. OK, so now we’d lost the clearly marked path and we couldn’t see where we came from but this path had to lead somewhere, right? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">But morale flagged for a brief second as the path looked less path-y and we battled copious thorn trees. We considered turning around until Panda ran ahead and shouted that he could see a road! We were overjoyed until we realized that we had wandered into a blasting zone that was basically nowhere near where we needed to be. Oops. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTRu1kV7hu_2wO8pmJFCjrb0sVg_jJ9KMWYmdq7bfetveqQEwFWf7ZyUjvjcvphbou9F4YUP49-HGyG6QQlxlLvQRyvErCcIoEECwKe_iJEWRkW-7fZJutdV3PNqLVJpYrUMy_yMUE2pI/s1600/P1010363.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTRu1kV7hu_2wO8pmJFCjrb0sVg_jJ9KMWYmdq7bfetveqQEwFWf7ZyUjvjcvphbou9F4YUP49-HGyG6QQlxlLvQRyvErCcIoEECwKe_iJEWRkW-7fZJutdV3PNqLVJpYrUMy_yMUE2pI/s320/P1010363.JPG" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We wandered down the road until we came to a quarry worker (I would have loved to have been able to read his thoughts as he saw 3 white people emerge from the bush) who vaguely pointed us in the direction of game city (a mall that is a few km from the car park). Luckily, we were able to hitch a ride with a kindly gent and made it back to civilization with nothing more to show than bruised egos and a few thorn-induced flesh wounds. Maybe they will get infected with sporotrichosis and we can write up the case! (Kidding! Sort of). We ended the adventure with a giant muffin and bottomless ginger beer at Mug and Bean where we toasted to our stupidity, lack of directional sense and all-around buffoon-ery. Go team! </span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See that huge quarry way in the distance? Yah. We ended up on the other side of that. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-8366945972654001262011-07-31T22:43:00.000+02:002011-07-31T22:43:17.657+02:00Saturday: Bye bye Dougie Fresh and Hello Gaborone Game ParkWent to Fresh Cafe in the AM in honor of Dougie Fresh's last day. We saw him off and then, through the fog of our tears, Kari, Liam and I decided to deal with the lost of the Fresh-ster by going to the Gaborone Game Reserve. Our expectations were low - this "game park" is like 10 minutes from our flat and by Botswana standards, is more like a playground than Disneyworld if you will. <br />
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We needed a car to get around so we called our favorite cab driver, Tendai. Despite our low expectations we had the best time- it was awesome! We saw warthogs, ostrich, rock dassies, impala, kudu and so many monkeys. We would spot something in the distance and Tendai would gun the engine and chase it down while yelling "capture it! snatch it!" (he meant take a picture).<br />
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Toward the end of the day we came upon a cadre of monkeys who eagerly approached the car. At first I was simply charmed by the little imps but I started getting nervous as they jumped on the hood and got closer to the window. Kari and Liam were making fun of my jumpiness but I waved them off- "I'm not scared!" We drove up a bit to another group of monkeys and I had my head of the window when BAM a monkey popped up out of nowhere right near my head. I screamed and literally flung myself across the car onto Liam's lap. Keep in mind that these are vervet monkeys which are not aggressive and all of 1ft tall. Needless to say my little "episode" was the source of much amusement for my compatriots. Hmmpph. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXLOEplsuqFLmnFOxHOZwB6X7PP5zgrsPW1eu5GbMtEsiExsqEYSGVC12GHZZqJoJCj0IUdSVbTmzZ2ahjL6Gq1yME3ORuiyPPFUaTQhkwbbIxNqlX2EwssnPm3NXNC0qZv-B1QQDXvt0/s1600/P1010267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXLOEplsuqFLmnFOxHOZwB6X7PP5zgrsPW1eu5GbMtEsiExsqEYSGVC12GHZZqJoJCj0IUdSVbTmzZ2ahjL6Gq1yME3ORuiyPPFUaTQhkwbbIxNqlX2EwssnPm3NXNC0qZv-B1QQDXvt0/s320/P1010267.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to regain composure after I launched myself at Liam. Note the monkey in the background. Cheeky lil' bugger.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moderately less frightened. At least enough to throw the 'ol double thumbs up. </td></tr>
</tbody></table> The other highlight of the game park was a small unlabled building/tent/shanty near the entrance. Intrigued, we stopped in and discovered several very dirty fish tanks with a few random fish swimming in the murk. One simply held a large, dead fish. Why was there an "aquarium" randomly in this totally dry game park? These are questions I don't trouble myself with. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHq711dkPaoKBLs9dK-tK3MtFiGLUM2UIShULCXhmAJPtQkFK8q3MkxTwdOftTJmrrb_3lzxKgTx_4V_J2MYr_ymjK4-Tq3-UOpjCrsoINeJ6p-38u84H8P_PPoJrTwcWt_XC1tYCJEsO/s1600/P1000341.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHq711dkPaoKBLs9dK-tK3MtFiGLUM2UIShULCXhmAJPtQkFK8q3MkxTwdOftTJmrrb_3lzxKgTx_4V_J2MYr_ymjK4-Tq3-UOpjCrsoINeJ6p-38u84H8P_PPoJrTwcWt_XC1tYCJEsO/s320/P1000341.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The star exhibit at the "aquarium:" a huge dead fish in a tiny tank.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7s7qeHr8YC3IjbCUNeNNldE5C0fXtb0WyNV4RYIWnj0rAoktr4W_FEUkTY-NshMe093WdPp-veVO_epHe_mvLHmRgx7Z6eO1p7RCM53cUS2J5TjUvA16I2zlPM9H1ai_zG5BEeelW_ysC/s1600/P1010317.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7s7qeHr8YC3IjbCUNeNNldE5C0fXtb0WyNV4RYIWnj0rAoktr4W_FEUkTY-NshMe093WdPp-veVO_epHe_mvLHmRgx7Z6eO1p7RCM53cUS2J5TjUvA16I2zlPM9H1ai_zG5BEeelW_ysC/s320/P1010317.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tendai checks out the rest of the aquatic exhibit. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-23314597124131216522011-07-29T06:43:00.000+02:002011-07-29T06:43:36.009+02:00Telepathology/teledermatologyOne of the coolest things I get to observe is the use of the robotic microscope in the National Lab. When a skin biopsy is done (by Doug or Didi, PMH's full time dermatologist), we take it to the national lab (across the street) and Doug gives it a preliminary read (i.e. what he thinks is going on based on the microscopic appearance of the skin and the clinical data that we write down). If it's clear cut, he writes down his read and that's that. For the other cases, we load it onto the wells of the Zeiss Mirax Live RT microscope and the computer scans it. The images are sent via the internet to Carrie Kovarik in Philadelphia (who is the head of the study I am working on). She can even control the microscope remotely! She emails her reads to Doug and we write them down in the records. Simple as that.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOTCG796W-pQpXvblKFU3LsvZlkcQQEG-jSZOCnamaSvtZm_Euq1UaJDhN18-voF6A0E0_Da8PuvgmTmFD2tUk5DKoP8w_B0kwGFvbpZ-37LXneN8RvxFM__SFZxwQBNGe2g3VeKgj_Tr/s1600/IMAG0352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOTCG796W-pQpXvblKFU3LsvZlkcQQEG-jSZOCnamaSvtZm_Euq1UaJDhN18-voF6A0E0_Da8PuvgmTmFD2tUk5DKoP8w_B0kwGFvbpZ-37LXneN8RvxFM__SFZxwQBNGe2g3VeKgj_Tr/s320/IMAG0352.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjheCTt5UakfEHKql3EVdnOXef0lJ6gPMRoPuEP92s6DwgVvODXCDq8YEYKCROKxoRtAINIRGuXigq1Vcb6PiMHgJmnEqtW5Jm9r6wZ6Mg9jBy-2H0gRJPtFcMU5JzXDIGoK4BS5aVGsoX2/s1600/IMAG0349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjheCTt5UakfEHKql3EVdnOXef0lJ6gPMRoPuEP92s6DwgVvODXCDq8YEYKCROKxoRtAINIRGuXigq1Vcb6PiMHgJmnEqtW5Jm9r6wZ6Mg9jBy-2H0gRJPtFcMU5JzXDIGoK4BS5aVGsoX2/s320/IMAG0349.jpg" width="191" /></a></div> <br />
This robotic telepathology technology is truly amazing and, at least to me, seems like the future of medicine. Especially in a developing country, it fosters a level of collaboration that would be impossible without the aid of tools like this. <br />
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If anyone is interested, there is a more in-depth article about this program (authored in part by Dr. Kovarik) in the latest issue of JAAD (the Journal of American Academy of Dermatology): May 2011 Volume 64, Number 5.hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-11516160589848853942011-07-27T17:21:00.000+02:002011-07-27T17:21:20.748+02:00Happy Birthday Dougie Fresh + other inappropriate things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigYj2NxzSqIu9EP3wDMK9uixaiqTiEIwCZhw-VRWuOiywjAEYg21lFaYI6NcOg56qzfrtkFfA72W7yWAksKH9B0xTYGQZ_BtFbp_F4w1ekse_3row2CaTdI89G-QpsWNPg0Gdehf7kznK/s1600/P1000992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigYj2NxzSqIu9EP3wDMK9uixaiqTiEIwCZhw-VRWuOiywjAEYg21lFaYI6NcOg56qzfrtkFfA72W7yWAksKH9B0xTYGQZ_BtFbp_F4w1ekse_3row2CaTdI89G-QpsWNPg0Gdehf7kznK/s320/P1000992.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Doug's birthday was yesterday. The big <strike>50</strike> 35. We had an excellent day in clinic, went to Fresh Cafe (how appropriate for Dougie Fresh) and then out to dinner. Doug had a hankering for some General Tso's chicken so we braved a place called "Chinese Restaurant." 10 points for simplicity. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They wisely seated us in our own room and, because our collective maturity level hovers somewhere around 6 years old, we wasted no time playing with the lazy Susan (all of us) and sticking chopsticks up our nose (Doug). At least he doesn't <i>act 35 :)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">My menu was crumbled, stained and otherwise very difficult to read. Luckily I was able to read the first dish on this page loud and clear: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxmjZqKSPSMDqFXBVj2Z6hSlFTN8xnsriEp5_TKi-q1zvjiU_sEKeZy1pM5nEMqwilRVZ8bVaUOHO7pvqzMOM6xEHoOf74pfPa5SMvwT3ogLEqpBcufiLcpaPbN09IWiCYkoedfe2b7Ej/s1600/P1010007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxmjZqKSPSMDqFXBVj2Z6hSlFTN8xnsriEp5_TKi-q1zvjiU_sEKeZy1pM5nEMqwilRVZ8bVaUOHO7pvqzMOM6xEHoOf74pfPa5SMvwT3ogLEqpBcufiLcpaPbN09IWiCYkoedfe2b7Ej/s320/P1010007.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Yes, that's right. Seafood with<b> <i>ass mushroom.</i></b> I would make a pithy speculation about what an "ass mushroom" would be but a) this is a family friendly blog and b) after three weeks of dermatology (which frequently includes seeing sexually transmitted diseases) I might have too vivid an idea of what an ass mushroom might entail.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ordered a melange of food and it was actually delicious. As they heaped it on the table we looked at one another in alarm: did we really order that much? We comforted ourselves with the notion that we'd have leftovers. Yah right. 30 min of solid feeding frenzy later we had fully dispelled <i>that</i> delusion. Not even a lone grain of rice escaped the carnage. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We went home and had some delicious cake and Doug enjoyed his 2 birthday presents from me: a facebook account and some Jack Daniels. Just what every 35 year old needs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I feel it worth mentioning that despite all the good natured ribbing from me, I can't even tell you how much I appreciate Doug. I literally spent every waking moment with him these past few weeks and I mean <i>every</i> waking moment. We not only work together in clinic, on the wards and in the lab but we also live and play together. That is a lot of time to spend with someone who you just met. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I know that there are time that he wanted to strangle me (like when I asked him the 101546th derm question of the day when he was "off the clock") but to say that he put up with me would be an egregious understatement. He taught me so much, kept me laughing pretty much 24/7 and basically shaped my entire Botswana experience. It was a pleasure to watch him settle into the routine here and really hit his stride. I'm sad that he's leaving on Saturday- I'm so lucky to have been able to work with him and I can't wait to bother him er....shadow him.... when we get back to Philadelphia. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Happy birthday, buddy! </b>We'll miss you so much when you leave :(</div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-38005999273288953602011-07-26T18:33:00.000+02:002011-07-26T18:33:58.378+02:00Madikwe (aka obligatory pictures of animals)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You thought you'd be able to escape it. You weren't sure. But as time wore on and I blathered on about dermatology and the hospital, you grew hopeful. "Perhaps," you thought. "perchance I might be able to read a blog about a foreigner in Africa without looking at a picture of a godforsaken elephant." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, friends, I am sorry to disappoint. But I am, after all, only human. This past weekend Doug and I scooped Kari up from the airport and headed an hour or so over the border to South Africa. We spent the evening in Madikwe Game reserve. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I really couldn't help myself even though I know that millions of more qualified photographers have captured the flora and fauna of Botswana in far better fashion than I. It's like a compulsion. I'd be sitting in the safari jeep, see an animal and I'd start getting that itch. "Stop it, Hayley. Don't even think about taking out your cheapy point and shoot and getting a blurry picture of that elephant." But I lack the necessary self control and out would come the camera and I'd end up with 40 pictures of the same pachyderm. Sigh. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well... now you'll all have to suffer. Hah! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackal eating a dead elephant</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In all seriousness, it was an amazing weekend. And after three straight weeks of begging- I even managed to drag Dougie on safari with us! What a coup! </div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-48386330762473583262011-07-25T21:56:00.000+02:002011-07-25T21:56:36.497+02:00Best. Team. Ever.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCYDLRnnAoElVtEGkMJvu6DYg47QmZA2WB7o27cc-erRp6sKBPO8umF4Ps78Hpbf9wFr0H6j2yXGsjKwLUng4mDNT93RtBNfQHUnneo_xzXkD1RMBY7omCmQ9oRCbqwJxucIlsvbzU3DR/s1600/DSC00208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCYDLRnnAoElVtEGkMJvu6DYg47QmZA2WB7o27cc-erRp6sKBPO8umF4Ps78Hpbf9wFr0H6j2yXGsjKwLUng4mDNT93RtBNfQHUnneo_xzXkD1RMBY7omCmQ9oRCbqwJxucIlsvbzU3DR/s200/DSC00208.JPG" width="166" /></a>Kari came bearing gifts (I told you she rocked). She and Jen have made me an honorary (very very junior) member of "team derm" and sent me this sweet glow in the dark shirt (from a race ran by some residents and attendings I guess). Derm AND glow-in-the dark? It appeals to both my inner nerd and my inner 8 year boy so I'm pretty much in heaven.<br />
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THANK YOU JEN (and good luck on your boards- you're going to kill them!).hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-72360227791816481342011-07-25T20:23:00.001+02:002011-07-25T21:33:27.013+02:00Kari is here!!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbitCLsQqfa1Q3iyjTLF3lRugRnNpVIlRKLVfhcyAkcJ44-vMHxvmFGffmnraorY0PnX7fEt4KRxIm_QDa3fR7221U1vKgCQ1L3U0-zQUpFQGXOYC6AhgrZx6LOz32hPY-IJsx9E7uDtd/s1600/DSC00114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbitCLsQqfa1Q3iyjTLF3lRugRnNpVIlRKLVfhcyAkcJ44-vMHxvmFGffmnraorY0PnX7fEt4KRxIm_QDa3fR7221U1vKgCQ1L3U0-zQUpFQGXOYC6AhgrZx6LOz32hPY-IJsx9E7uDtd/s400/DSC00114.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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This weekend marked the arrival of Kari, the next derm resident who I will be working with. She and Doug will overlap a week and then it's just me and Kari. I actually knew Kari before coming here and I LOVE her. She is Wisconsin friendly at it's best.<br />
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Back in Philly I had the opportunity to shadow at the STD clinic and Kari was working that day. She was so welcoming and I learned so much from her and Dr. Intracaso (the attending). I couldn't believe how nice they were.<br />
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A month or so later I was invited to a dinner for residents in the global health track. Knowing no one except Dr. Kovarik (the head of the vulvar cancer study) and being a lowly medical student (and a first year to boot...the peons of the peons), I was pretty terrified. And sure enough, the resident sitting next to me pretty much lost interest right away when I disclosed my lowly status (I should have been wearing a scarlet S on my head for student). When Dr. Kovarik had to get up, the resident turned his back and started a conversation with someone else so I was stuck with no one to talk to.<br />
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When I grew tired of cursing the back of his head, I couldn't decide whether I should take out my phone (and risk looking rude and disinterested) or to stare into space with a dumb smile plastered on my face (and make it patently obvious that I had no one to talk to).<br />
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All of a sudden I heard a friendly midwestern accent: "Hayley! Come sit here!" I have never been so relieved to hear my name. It could have been Jack the Ripper and I'd have heeded the call- anything to ameliorate my loser-dom on display. Luckily it wasn't a 19th century serial killer- it was Kari and she remembered me from STD clinic (<i>tangent- I hope no one is skimming this and reads just this paragraph because "she remembered me from STD clinic" isn't a phrase you want taken out of context)</i>. Even though she's a 3rd year resident (and chief resident at that) and I am merely a peon, she was amazingly friendly and introduced me to all the residents she was sitting with and included me in the conversation.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">I saw her a few more times since then and I was psyched that she was coming to Botswana. When she arrived (sans luggage...ugh) Dougie and I scooped her up and took her to Madikwe game reserve in South Africa. I'll show the pictures in the next post. Bottom line...Kari is here and I'm so psyched. Everything I've suggested she's like "Sure! I'll do that!" And she said that she'll fully indulge my nerd-ery...we've already looked up the whole Porphyrin </span><span class="Apple-style-span">cascade so we could understand Porphyria cutanea tarda. It's gonna be a great few weeks.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team Derm at Madikwe!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-9703294339539251662011-07-24T21:42:00.001+02:002011-07-24T21:44:35.463+02:00Happy!<div style="font-family: inherit;"><style>
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</style> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I am so unbelievably happy right now. I have had one of the best weeks of my life and I can’t wait for the rest of the summer. I think that the reason for my happiness is multifold. Being a compulsive medical student (you should see how many highlighters I use in my notes), I tried to break it down into each individual factor: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">1. Taking a break from the grind</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">As I mentioned in a previous post, I think that medical school is awesome. I feel so privileged to be able to learn about the body and spend time with my awesome classmates (PennMed 2014 for the win!). But as any medical student will tell you- the pre-clinical years of medical school can be kind of a grind. You are basically binging on information day in and day out. And although Penn makes a valiant effort to get us in small groups and foster discussions, it can be kind of isolating and frantic trying to memorize all the various microbial pathogens for example. But having some time off has allowed me to get excited about what I’ve learned/am learning. After my last exam, my friend Nick was asking me questions about the gastrointestinal system and as I attempted to answer him, I felt myself getting really excited while explaining how fiber is digested. I think that a little space is a good thing in this case. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">2. Being in Botswana</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">One of the residents I am working with mentioned that I seemed so at ease and comfortable navigating my life here, almost as if I were “coming home.” That sort of resonated with me- I do feel like I’m coming home in a way. Not that spending time in Malawi last year makes me African or that I think I’m super authentic. It’s just that I really enjoy being here. I’ll join in when everyone complains about not finding Heinz ketchup or about the inefficiencies at the hospital but the truth is that I adore being here. Really and truly love it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">3. Doing dermatology*************</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I can’t remember the last time that I have been this intellectually stimulated. I am fascinated by the skin conditions we’ve seen and I literally pepper Doug with questions whenever I get the opportunity. I scribble down whatever I can during clinic and then I come home and look up what we’ve seen. I’ve already filled an entire notebook. Without sounding braggy- I am very proud of how much I’ve learned. I went from not knowing anything (not an exaggeration- we’ve not had any derm yet) to being able to describe a rash and even having some ideas about a differential diagnosis. I’ve already annoyed my roommates by talking incessantly about dermatology but I can’t help it- I really love this stuff. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I have always been"that kid" who loves things that other people consider gross. Pus, absesses, flaky skin, warts, blisters...I love 'em all. My mom once left me a JAMA article (about a derm case) with a note: "because you like gross things." Most of my classmates don't share my enthusiasm so I've tried to keep it under wraps so it's been amazing being around derm residents who share my fascination. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">On Jenny's last night (a Friday night) my friends literally had to drag me out of the apartment because I wanted to stay in an do practice questions with Jenny. I was so sad to see her go but she was kind enough to bequeath me a stack of her old dermatology books so I plan to continue the nerd-ery when I return to Philly. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gratuitous picture from my trip this weekend. Consider it a preview. </td></tr>
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</span></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-26813118917876315382011-07-21T21:36:00.000+02:002011-07-21T21:36:40.641+02:00Staying fitOne of my priorities on this trip was not to let myself get out of shape. I'd been running and doing pilates in Philadelphia so I wanted to keep it up as best as I could. <br />
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Our walk to the hospital each morning is 30ish minutes each way so that's not a bad start. On top of that, I've gone on a few runs (I don't want to run alone after dark so it's hard to find time. But I'm getting in a rhythm and hoping to make running a more regular part of my exercise regime. My favorite activity, however, is pilates/abs/pushups with Nathalie. We look absurd but we have a great time.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PGg_iUWNdyxhm6ET6zqxWV5z5ZadXnUnDUHSFNtuS_02jxOaxEJx_lNe0sUP_lpvnW-aYLv4Dd3hZg84ee7l1UBS_evS8jZ7AOiGyMUwEkApDV6Ty9TbPXQ-m2DyEpn-cH4CjU5mpKpT/s1600/IMAG0343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PGg_iUWNdyxhm6ET6zqxWV5z5ZadXnUnDUHSFNtuS_02jxOaxEJx_lNe0sUP_lpvnW-aYLv4Dd3hZg84ee7l1UBS_evS8jZ7AOiGyMUwEkApDV6Ty9TbPXQ-m2DyEpn-cH4CjU5mpKpT/s400/IMAG0343.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-59481143931607129562011-07-20T18:27:00.000+02:002011-07-20T18:27:53.499+02:00Typical dayAgain, the unwashed masses are getting restless. Enough with the salt pans and meerkats. They (OK, OK it's just my grandmother again) want to know more about what my typical day is like here in Gaborone. Given that today was fairly typical, I thought I'd share my agenda in excruciating detail<br />
<br />
<b>7:00 am -</b> Leave our apartment and walk to the hospital<br />
<b>7:30 am- </b>Check on a patient who is being enrolled in my study and has an appointment today<br />
<b>7:45 am -</b> Morning report (internal medicine doctors present cases)<br />
<b>8:30 am-</b> Check on the inpatient consults. Today we are re-visiting a woman with a very swollen leg and a bullous (like huge blisters) rash. It seems like no one else is checking on her so we are compressing the leg and dressing it each day.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzuVpaBIM9BOKt7ykKQQwvaofsAK-zGwLTKZ1QVdQIgTsgI_xi1KA7Svk5Dnf1aus1JRSlb5vQdC8oLM9tf1FWAZf2UbVTTdBnuALIO9IMB2Lrs0s9GYw1pUQG9-CSiV8L-lVjOGce59w/s1600/IMAG0355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzuVpaBIM9BOKt7ykKQQwvaofsAK-zGwLTKZ1QVdQIgTsgI_xi1KA7Svk5Dnf1aus1JRSlb5vQdC8oLM9tf1FWAZf2UbVTTdBnuALIO9IMB2Lrs0s9GYw1pUQG9-CSiV8L-lVjOGce59w/s320/IMAG0355.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Writing a note for an inpatient</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>9:00 am- </b>Dermatology clinic begins. We saw quite a few complicated cases today. <br />
<b>1:00pm-</b> End of clinic. Time to clean up, bring our biopsy instruments to get sterilized and take stock of what we'll need tomorrow (because tomorrow we have outreach clinic).<br />
<b>1:15pm- </b>Go to the main hospital lab and then the microbiology lab to drop off our bacterial cultures and mycobacterial stains<br />
<b>1:30-3:30pm-</b><b> </b>Go across the street to the national lab. Agenda for today- drop off fungal cultures, find missing slides (we got 'em all!), load new slides on robotic microscope and then Doug does preliminary reads of the slides (he looks at them before they go on the robotic microscope and get read by Dr. Kovarik in the US) while I double check on the retrospective samples (they are finally ready!).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJfUI3Hk9ckHgHh7fHgA9cCNaPS1EUixzxLewXaIps3kbhCGA4TJrnAQManUZpwuybxt8EXEcD7v3NfQO467xzh2F3wR7u33cLFZDpwt-wtEEBVZfR4R9JUrgdgyJ7pVziyzB9JoKgOcF/s1600/IMAG0351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJfUI3Hk9ckHgHh7fHgA9cCNaPS1EUixzxLewXaIps3kbhCGA4TJrnAQManUZpwuybxt8EXEcD7v3NfQO467xzh2F3wR7u33cLFZDpwt-wtEEBVZfR4R9JUrgdgyJ7pVziyzB9JoKgOcF/s320/IMAG0351.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<b>3:30pm</b>- Quick stop by gynecology clinic to see if I can find out anything about my study patient<br />
<b>4:00pm-</b> Walk home (jump across the ditch again)<br />
<b>4:30pm-7:00pm-</b><b> </b>Scarf some food (lunch slipped through the cracks today), restock biopsy bag, arrange a ride to the bus station for tomorrow morning (for outreach clinic), look up anything I didn't understand in clinic today, write up an instruction sheet for VisualDx (the computer program I installed in the library here), update the blog.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUW_LmrrJKAo6liQ53Bs5ZxAWItuYhIZN5DzLKJT9olPlzLKDgr21kQJZ63YWaWLxel9FTT7zJ9dAuPNkL1U-k-9hbdfLm6TrjtQMwqhKfyzkG-sbBAvcZskyajZYjMEhJcsqHcrOs3sX/s1600/IMAG0305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUW_LmrrJKAo6liQ53Bs5ZxAWItuYhIZN5DzLKJT9olPlzLKDgr21kQJZ63YWaWLxel9FTT7zJ9dAuPNkL1U-k-9hbdfLm6TrjtQMwqhKfyzkG-sbBAvcZskyajZYjMEhJcsqHcrOs3sX/s320/IMAG0305.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biopsy bag madness. I am always petrified that I will have forgotten something. I literally woke up from sleep last night muttering about 3cc syringes, 15 blades and IL kenalog. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b>7:00pm</b>- dinner for Aileen (a 4th year med student at Penn) because she is leaving tomorrow :(<br />
<br />
Then wash, rinse and repeat!hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-3926476065493977242011-07-19T16:42:00.000+02:002011-07-19T16:42:22.500+02:00Makgatigati salt pans: last and final part I swear!<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">We ATVed off the pans but before we got back to the hotel we made a pitstop to meet some meerkats! They were just as adorable as they look in the pictures. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fjYvEmODuhE9RTKNMp5xFlj4St18phouyJJncxZv7__7e5D5t2DxzpxuP0umnYGZSvw0t7FWR5r7amKROdaZ9LYoQoICZxjfCDPgmw1BviaDdwGjVcMsPXy8Kcr6IP7DZMDlPU7p1omj/s1600/IMG_1107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fjYvEmODuhE9RTKNMp5xFlj4St18phouyJJncxZv7__7e5D5t2DxzpxuP0umnYGZSvw0t7FWR5r7amKROdaZ9LYoQoICZxjfCDPgmw1BviaDdwGjVcMsPXy8Kcr6IP7DZMDlPU7p1omj/s320/IMG_1107.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love how prim they are with their tiny little paws poised delicately over their tummies</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwtiuhDLzL3_7E88-3u-zvV8kDNI3JGSpQDLWxjGcFTdD8S59jl14eAEjWFAUs-WhJUhq1o8YmEqQQl-LieXAjANBT8TBl9Fa7FclchO9tn_K2g_kDyqz96x4ifCv14WC8M2r7dH5zuIx/s1600/IMG_1096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwtiuhDLzL3_7E88-3u-zvV8kDNI3JGSpQDLWxjGcFTdD8S59jl14eAEjWFAUs-WhJUhq1o8YmEqQQl-LieXAjANBT8TBl9Fa7FclchO9tn_K2g_kDyqz96x4ifCv14WC8M2r7dH5zuIx/s320/IMG_1096.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes. I touched a meerkat. In fact, I touched several meerkats. </td></tr>
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</style>We got back to the hotel and were all pretty nervous about our trip home. We needed to flag down a bus before 1pm if we had any hope of being in Francistown before dark. We were told that the buses “usually” come by every hour and would “probably” stop for us. After scarfing down some food (and the term “scarfing” is way more ladylike than what we were doing), we started to settle our bill and discuss our return trip. “Excuse me ladies, do you need a lift?” said a man sitting near us. “That’s very kind of you, but actually there are 6 of us so unless you had a bus, we need to stick together” we explained. “I actually do happen to have an empty bus” he responded. Can you believe our luck? He was a tour operator and a friend of Marya (who was on the pans with us) and he did indeed have an empty passenger van. So we arrived in Francistown in style. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVql5OuhOOxEHkhDheUiuHcuGT9oKSM_HBoe-9y5IO-6f8PGFkJztX_bPB45iCOBVsklxcScXbgqIm-2yQD8YvHZ4AzrNyGpCQTo6H8Zvev_V5atYPKWbLIyaO7vpdfcZx0pBx2lhTYhv/s1600/IMG_1128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVql5OuhOOxEHkhDheUiuHcuGT9oKSM_HBoe-9y5IO-6f8PGFkJztX_bPB45iCOBVsklxcScXbgqIm-2yQD8YvHZ4AzrNyGpCQTo6H8Zvev_V5atYPKWbLIyaO7vpdfcZx0pBx2lhTYhv/s320/IMG_1128.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our saviors and our chariot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">This time around we were more than prepared to do battle with the bus rank. I led the charge, marching resolutely toward the buses and politely but firmly waving off everyone who tried to “help” us by trying to show us the bus to Gaborone (they generally expect recompense).<span> </span>I may even have whipped out the tried and true “talk to the hand” sign when trying to shake a particularly persistent gentleman. I hate being rude but in this case all we wanted to do was get ourselves (and our possessions) safely on the bus. We were able to do so without a single incident and we arrived home in Gabs by 8:30pm. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">All in all, despite the hassles in Francistown and a total of 32 of hours traveling, I have to say that this was an incredible experience and I would do it again in a second. </div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-12346609131112547652011-07-19T16:24:00.000+02:002011-07-19T16:25:44.182+02:00Makgatigati salt pans part 3: waking up on the pans<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;">We woke up just in time to see the sun rise over the pans. I have to confess a nerdy secret: when I first woke up I sleepily rolled over to Julia and said, “wow, the pans really look like sebhorrheic dermatitis (an inflammatory condition that causes flaky, scaly skin).”</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKSvLkfQsdVgMxbd8zSg7DGxuKEbKdXKRcsO-T1hdj1_QSFbIR8qGJXPJlMkITGtXJgxV7sp2mUB_wCTWnF_sOQfi6IxnfdromoVRgfVmlfTn80Do7WPSnjKYpy5KzmcRejk0L_BL115-/s1600/IMG_1025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKSvLkfQsdVgMxbd8zSg7DGxuKEbKdXKRcsO-T1hdj1_QSFbIR8qGJXPJlMkITGtXJgxV7sp2mUB_wCTWnF_sOQfi6IxnfdromoVRgfVmlfTn80Do7WPSnjKYpy5KzmcRejk0L_BL115-/s400/IMG_1025.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seb Derm anyone?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNk_K6SN-iXO3kBEGgJzpxSFoTeAyZZYLSLLOSA3NJZb8PyacYj-iiYPq-qgn0RF4eIihc0wpuQqwc2Z4BNs8GYwvvYtxGvmY-sl8rYVid77LDWgxJd5viTpNHosx3zKK1tbJ6aXDF7CS/s1600/IMG_0993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNk_K6SN-iXO3kBEGgJzpxSFoTeAyZZYLSLLOSA3NJZb8PyacYj-iiYPq-qgn0RF4eIihc0wpuQqwc2Z4BNs8GYwvvYtxGvmY-sl8rYVid77LDWgxJd5viTpNHosx3zKK1tbJ6aXDF7CS/s320/IMG_0993.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ852rbYp8gscYqLT-RDicwzMtDMmtS5YYKZkHhImevMudKLdQ-bbNsQteS5KSuuIguIq8ST_gPJHFmu3fPAZEul5mcoALk7wg6cpBBfVZPzpOAtNdAfyXsieoli4a95bq99cROjkCOIp/s1600/IMG_0987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ852rbYp8gscYqLT-RDicwzMtDMmtS5YYKZkHhImevMudKLdQ-bbNsQteS5KSuuIguIq8ST_gPJHFmu3fPAZEul5mcoALk7wg6cpBBfVZPzpOAtNdAfyXsieoli4a95bq99cROjkCOIp/s320/IMG_0987.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bedroom</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qujWSvK6EkTaG7Tgq583e143_kHfs1ipCRSsH9_3PcmWyqsIyxut8htu0YLWuVgBmIhR9FJmrgmPFmiCX5MK_dpmbBAZfvKHzGVnh0xcNh1J9yl-meQqvQyNJ9fp5lq0zEIGbSKRx_vD/s1600/IMG_1014.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qujWSvK6EkTaG7Tgq583e143_kHfs1ipCRSsH9_3PcmWyqsIyxut8htu0YLWuVgBmIhR9FJmrgmPFmiCX5MK_dpmbBAZfvKHzGVnh0xcNh1J9yl-meQqvQyNJ9fp5lq0zEIGbSKRx_vD/s320/IMG_1014.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp in the morning</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I should probably explain that the Makgatigati salt flats (one of the largest salt flats in the world) are actually several flats connected by sandy desert. They are the remnant of what used to be a lake bigger than Switzerland. During the wet season they will be covered with water and grass but during the winter season they are dry and flaky (cough, cough seb derm). We stayed on the Nwetwe pan. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nwetwe_Pan" title="Nwetwe Pan"></a></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qujWSvK6EkTaG7Tgq583e143_kHfs1ipCRSsH9_3PcmWyqsIyxut8htu0YLWuVgBmIhR9FJmrgmPFmiCX5MK_dpmbBAZfvKHzGVnh0xcNh1J9yl-meQqvQyNJ9fp5lq0zEIGbSKRx_vD/s1600/IMG_1014.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgeHI-0bfZL3vt-8CLEOOyqAMd6idtB94IEHJHou57ljp4SE84pIi9NMNEeVqTpwKmTn4-6iP_IBAQ7ODfw07aJq5ezHlXd_Jkwm2XHSNB0Fyiy-CjCH0rGawMiIwGczZpHAf9UpV9xZa/s1600/IMG_0993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-76412464898278938322011-07-19T16:14:00.000+02:002011-07-19T16:56:15.188+02:00Brief pictoral interlude<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1R4D-ZA0dPQ2YEen02G2oY7LvuauMMSD5_0eB_k7hdlmCPji372uzHqfbKlRUYkBvOZyOgzKzwfo0vKdjsXtOA2OHdzBmvn-EQ8jMlUJGFIf_mK89JeXfoLQz98qMXLnfjXzbg4FH3CF/s1600/IMG_0908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1R4D-ZA0dPQ2YEen02G2oY7LvuauMMSD5_0eB_k7hdlmCPji372uzHqfbKlRUYkBvOZyOgzKzwfo0vKdjsXtOA2OHdzBmvn-EQ8jMlUJGFIf_mK89JeXfoLQz98qMXLnfjXzbg4FH3CF/s640/IMG_0908.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt pan bandits. I'm the one in the middle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvMHCNkE6tUhrI6C8aUgix9atRm5yXLVIXNXQY0sJ4i7-TXcGdgU9DqnMnKbLKPknZE-J6DYIBp64TccOErdu3jtLTeWTkCWoW9TJ7ZG0lqoJZwI2cjB3zrk-8mPraAfNkwE0K487YLzB/s1600/IMG_0912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvMHCNkE6tUhrI6C8aUgix9atRm5yXLVIXNXQY0sJ4i7-TXcGdgU9DqnMnKbLKPknZE-J6DYIBp64TccOErdu3jtLTeWTkCWoW9TJ7ZG0lqoJZwI2cjB3zrk-8mPraAfNkwE0K487YLzB/s320/IMG_0912.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am a compulsive cartwheeler<br />
<br />
P.S. Any/all photo credits from the pans go to my lovely roommate/friend Julia Beamesderfer. She's a pro with the SLR, eh? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867326576527760229.post-57753705526726247642011-07-19T16:01:00.000+02:002011-07-19T16:54:43.746+02:00Makgatigati salt pans: part 2- trekking onto the pans<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">We woke up (after sleeping <b>12 hours</b>) feeling much refreshed and decided that we couldn’t ignore the siren call of the beautiful pool at the hotel. I know it’s hard to conceptualize, but it’s winter here and it gets really cold! Like pants/sweater during the day and fleece/gloves at night cold. But PennMed-ers are a hearty bunch so we stripped down to our skivvies and jumped in. Freezing but totally worth it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWBovr57XPTTIJfvx5jUGki56IMeN4Mln73S9d_3sslPmHkQ4pfEhrLe_SbiEXkNrn6_4aKpXb_ihjioAGvVcYFtovL7kKGxXlegvkTKkzjTGG8j_GtgKn7r9BQtEOHzjH37JxUpl0sJF/s1600/IMG_0642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWBovr57XPTTIJfvx5jUGki56IMeN4Mln73S9d_3sslPmHkQ4pfEhrLe_SbiEXkNrn6_4aKpXb_ihjioAGvVcYFtovL7kKGxXlegvkTKkzjTGG8j_GtgKn7r9BQtEOHzjH37JxUpl0sJF/s320/IMG_0642.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSqmCn3lZRTqcLdrOYnJZQ_a67GxLiLPSZ6hWyjif5bA61OvwRpkOeCP-tqhkHBTuerSM2o6wfK3d91EAHdQq8_S3Dkdcm-ZnnPZxCmkoOMsIURFCDTpeDyc9W1QI3P3RTvXZs0nx63qN/s1600/IMG_0663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSqmCn3lZRTqcLdrOYnJZQ_a67GxLiLPSZ6hWyjif5bA61OvwRpkOeCP-tqhkHBTuerSM2o6wfK3d91EAHdQq8_S3Dkdcm-ZnnPZxCmkoOMsIURFCDTpeDyc9W1QI3P3RTvXZs0nx63qN/s320/IMG_0663.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> Finally we set off toward the salt pans with an amazing drive: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwkLeYTKGF9dIoztiKdddSXnH9hXvN4nXhZeJNXyXfTb1TrIGioXnR3RL-G0wpDtPqX6u9S2NRHeypYzsBvw9rRXohYiLAEj3EwFH0LzsxFupO7kV7K-oMsv9L_5kpWtjrDrXHKRMszrt/s1600/IMG_0763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwkLeYTKGF9dIoztiKdddSXnH9hXvN4nXhZeJNXyXfTb1TrIGioXnR3RL-G0wpDtPqX6u9S2NRHeypYzsBvw9rRXohYiLAEj3EwFH0LzsxFupO7kV7K-oMsv9L_5kpWtjrDrXHKRMszrt/s320/IMG_0763.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhI28CSj3t0ajtOm9eNa9rJY5oqMrb1PVm28gmMKl2wjT1-vsmoOWiGvjyU8jdmjLyn_jHIESQ8B-xT_O2UJ5Bjq5Kg1Je9U0NomRCuLEH2E-hqr8yNGbAOboNjQszAbtgILuAmTJxcWSY/s1600/IMG_0863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhI28CSj3t0ajtOm9eNa9rJY5oqMrb1PVm28gmMKl2wjT1-vsmoOWiGvjyU8jdmjLyn_jHIESQ8B-xT_O2UJ5Bjq5Kg1Je9U0NomRCuLEH2E-hqr8yNGbAOboNjQszAbtgILuAmTJxcWSY/s320/IMG_0863.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">We made a quick stop at Chapman’s baobab: an enormous tree that is more than 4,500 years old. </div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzAtMroFOJeN3IbmnxnpwLvfJ_qobU9O6IrDN1_YFUGBy1VATZQlzAw0mN0cFow-1bIQrm9hH6oNwQqRtcFxoMApLDNopp-H3NwEBhxAJEPRRBr8ZcRBfGkODSqA0vinE-kUZocdlFcVcc/s1600/IMG_0839_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzAtMroFOJeN3IbmnxnpwLvfJ_qobU9O6IrDN1_YFUGBy1VATZQlzAw0mN0cFow-1bIQrm9hH6oNwQqRtcFxoMApLDNopp-H3NwEBhxAJEPRRBr8ZcRBfGkODSqA0vinE-kUZocdlFcVcc/s320/IMG_0839_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vV1KWqFhGyk-5al4rGie626UQOhKkSHsLYsf1aiiJ84VgDj7oFCrV_zDULBdIluaRCoqNUzDJmjnl-cFQLG8SBwDXJMwzolRUUQkadzv5VyvFVg8_1AYr_C2vvDevbxMBO-IGvNdHADn/s1600/IMG_0825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vV1KWqFhGyk-5al4rGie626UQOhKkSHsLYsf1aiiJ84VgDj7oFCrV_zDULBdIluaRCoqNUzDJmjnl-cFQLG8SBwDXJMwzolRUUQkadzv5VyvFVg8_1AYr_C2vvDevbxMBO-IGvNdHADn/s320/IMG_0825.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Next we donned some headscarves (for dust control) and hopped on ATVs to make the trek onto the actual salt pans. Despite an injunction from Doug aka the “man of the house” (the derm resident I work with) not to use the ATVs, we had a great time and were very careful. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiF5MiyGHywLK1eWb3cxeSLJ1vmwheJtV4wzh4cWiIbXgXCC58KY6aqpP-gN-2STXYGLSjGqUxN7EnYIoqYgcc5tA7gItEqOy98FU9Aa-4qPLMIsuA_mDEVt6eESbjocSPpt-OLozSafbJ/s1600/IMG_0882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiF5MiyGHywLK1eWb3cxeSLJ1vmwheJtV4wzh4cWiIbXgXCC58KY6aqpP-gN-2STXYGLSjGqUxN7EnYIoqYgcc5tA7gItEqOy98FU9Aa-4qPLMIsuA_mDEVt6eESbjocSPpt-OLozSafbJ/s320/IMG_0882.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roommate love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAdpMqzOrF375rTXSaJJNLB7vMrTD2xAzkrhSNkhl440SPjntTkvimT4ahg9s57EDnDB5grVFG3dLvQpdpQNdPbhyphenhyphenmChF28i-Lgx49vf2FsJgHQxTbWfbxLYffAujLji0w30rcbIE9wmb/s1600/IMG_0936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAdpMqzOrF375rTXSaJJNLB7vMrTD2xAzkrhSNkhl440SPjntTkvimT4ahg9s57EDnDB5grVFG3dLvQpdpQNdPbhyphenhyphenmChF28i-Lgx49vf2FsJgHQxTbWfbxLYffAujLji0w30rcbIE9wmb/s400/IMG_0936.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I love how little liability there is in Africa. Here was our intro/safety talk: "These are the quad bikes. Turn on like this. Down for neutral. Up for shifting- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Don't forget to downshift when stopping." That was it. No wavers, no demonstration, nothing. Several girls in our group had never driven a manual car so they were like "umm...shift?" But the whole "throw you in the pool to learn to swim" technique worked like a charm because within 5 minutes we were all ATV-ing champs. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><style>
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</style> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">We arrived at camp in time just as the sun had dipped below the horizon. We ate dinner and stayed by the fire telling riddles with the guides and the other guests: an American women named Marya, 2 young British boys who were biking across Southern Africa, a Japanese diplomat couple and a German family. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">At around 10pm we crawled into our sleeping bags. We slept without tents, with nothing between us and the stars. The moon, however, was so bright that you could have read a book without a headlamp. Keep in mind that the temperature was hovering somewhere around freezing so I was wearing, no joke, 6 layers. Closing my eyes that night I felt obnoxiously, deliriously happy. I kind of can't believe that I am here in Botswana, doing something I love while having the most amazing experiences. It's an incredible feeling. </span></div>hayleyghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03897844300830488453noreply@blogger.com0