#56 – Paradise found and lessons abound

#56 – Paradise found and lessons abound

Well this is it weary readers.  Until my Family and I return to the crystal clear waters of the Outer Islands, these blogs will take a break.

In 13 short (but sometimes long) weeks, I have cried, and laughed, and been angry, and been relieved, and been fed gastronomically, spiritually, vocationally, educationally, and socially. I have experienced, disappointment, frustration, elation and humiliation.  I have enjoyed, the culture, the work, the language, the fishing and the solace.

I have grown immeasurably in these three 3 week contracts.  I came to the Torres to get a taste of what outer island nursing was all about and will leave with an insight so unique, so quintessentially different to any other theatre of nursing, that I am left awe struck and inspired.

When in May 2011, I came to the islands for my first taste,  I thought I knew what I was doing.  The experiences and randomness of the Torres carved an indelible scar into my knowledge base, and the cavity that it left will never fill. 

I know that there are nurses young and old reading these posts, who for what ever reason say to them self, “Oh…I could never do what Rob has done”, and to you I say “Rubbish”

There are nurses reading this that will say, “ahhh.  Piece of cake, give me a ticket, this RAN stuff is easy”, and to you I say “Rubbish”.

There are nurses that know me and think that I am confident in what I do and that I am prepared for any eventuality, and to those nurses I say, “Rubbish”.

Let me be brutally and painfully honest.  I was scared, scared that I wouldn’t know enough to function in an isolated area.  I was so stuck in my trauma nurse comfort zone that really only became anxiolytic on a small handful of situations.  You cant prepare for working in an area like the Torres.  It is unique.  You arm yourself with the right attitude, and I came to learn that that attitude was one of humble servant, and scholar.

There wasn’t a day that went passed, where I didn’t ring some expert in TI, or Cairns for advice.  I learned that I didn’t have to have the answers, just the balls to ask the rigt questions.  For me, a nurse educator, this was a huge shock.  I come from a world where I had to have the answers.  I have made a career out of reading everything I can get my hands on, and committing “stuff” to memory in case, in a class room somewhere, I get asked.  Many would say that remembering things is one of my strong points….but all this means nothing when you find yourself in a foreign land, with a world that functions in a different dimension.

So one of the most important pieces of advice I can give you, is ask more questions than you give answers.  It is a hard lesson for me, but one that has served me well in the Torres.

To the people in the three villages that I lived, played and worked, I say big esso. As a nurse having to sit through useless, inane cultural awareness programs that did no more to prepare me for your “way” than reading about knots prepares me to be a sailor; yet you took time to teach me your customs, and your language, and your food, and your perspectives.

You have done more for my concept of closing the gap, than any corporately funded program.  I hope that you have found my blogs about the Ilan way, to have been honest.  Not sugar coated, or inflammatory, but a true reflection of issues that you face daily.

To the family and friends that have dutifully, or even voyeristically logged in every so often to read the next post, I hope that you will understand me when I say “you just wouldn’t understand, unless you were there”.  You may have found these posts entertaining, I am glad you saw it that way.  They were meant to be entertaining.  You might have found them raw, because they were.  You might have found them fanciful, or embellished, but I can assure you that they weren’t. 

What I hope for is that you saw them through my eyes. 

That when I was lonely, you felt that too.

When I was angry or frustrated at injustice or irresponsibility, you felt that. 

That when I was awe inspired by the shear beauty of the region and the people, you felt that too.  I hope that you want to put the Torres on your bucket list.

I hope that by reading my clinical stories you learned a thing or two about medical differences, and conditions, and that you googled them or went to Wikipedia and learned along side me.

I hope that regardless of your faith, you respected that I have mine.  That my God is with me “Emmanuel”, and with these people, and that in the darkest times here, I had my God and my faith as comfort, and strength.  I hope that if it turned just one of you to the bible, or a Christian friend to ask a question or two, you did that without feeling silly.

If you are a nurse and you long to give this a go; do it.  Understand that no one is an expert, no one is really prepared for what happens up here, but remain a scholar, and keep a keen eye for the learning that befalls you and you will have an experience beyond all you most amazing dreams.

For the final time on Yam Island, I sign off, and trust when I pick up this keyboard again, there will be another story, another experience but most importantly, another lesson.

Yam Island…Over and out!