In Burmese, Yangon means void of danger.  After nearly a month of sightseeing, I was ready to volunteer and connect with a local community of medical staff to take away the dangers that patients in the rural jungle villages might suffer from. Nothing felt more reaffirming of “Yes, I want to be a doctor” than seeking a presence in the world of medicine while having neither financial or resume incentives, nor a plan to apply to medical school anytime soon.

 

 

As wary as I was of being American, I realize my citizenship continued to open new doors if I searched humbly and with perseverance. I had never been treated and taught with so much respect and kindness as with the doctors I met in Myanmar. I am forever indebted to the hands-on opportunity they granted me.

Mr. Min, Dr. Min, Dr. Albert, and the rest of the team (some of whom have worked with MSF!!) never asked for a resume, a GPA, a background check, an MCAT score, or anything else we care too much about. To understand how I got blindly connected with my newest role models, refer to Day 6. In short, I saw a hospital on my map, took another leap of faith (the only way to defy the laws of probability), got rejected, and my bladder stepped in to help me find answers that were better than I could’ve hoped for.

 

 

Accommodation

Backpackers Bed and Breakfast was perfect. Dorm prices were as low as $7 a night when reserved through booking.com, so try to get them to match this number. The place was clean with great AC and wifi and bed curtain and rooftop view. Yes, a view of the city to die for. Every morning guests chose from three breakfast options and ate while watching the haphazard city and river from above, and they started serving the food early enough to suit my morning volunteer shifts.

 

 

Volunteering, Shadowing, & Crop Tops

Day 28

Dr. Min sported a top knot and practiced acoustic in his free time. I introduced myself in a mall food court and asked him some basic questions. He invited me to shadow him for a portion of his next back-to-back 24-hour hospital shifts, and drove me back.

What kind of Cloud 9 had I gotten myself enveloped inside of?

??

Day 29

“Surgeons are made of betel.”

Dr. Min had picked up Ei Tone, a fifth-year med student, before swinging by my hostel. Medical school started  after high school and takes six years here; she was doing her rotation in surgery at the time.

I asked about the health complications from excess betel chewing, and what physicians plan on doing about it. They told me it was so widespread, the idea of quelling the addiction seemed unrealistic.

In fact, many doctors even take on the habit. Especially those in the more demanding specialties, like surgery. Helps the mind focus, right?

But don’t worry, Dr. Min was arecoline free. 🙂

In a stunned wonderment, I witnessed direct application of material from my classes in the cramped clinic we had set up. We were in the San Mya Hida township.

Most patients were regulars with diabetes and hypertension, both topics covered in depth by my most recent course for my nutritional sciences major. The treatment was straightforward: check vitals, blood sugar, refill medications, and a friendly reminder to increase vegetable intake.

Checking vitals. Until that day, I still did not know what to listen for when taking systole and diastole. I am so glad that changed. Dr. Min and Ei Tone explained the steps of taking blood sugar, and how pricking the side of the finger tip damages less nerves. I practiced on myself, and as suspected my blood glucose was a little high, maybe because I’d had breakfast, but also I have always noticed myself drinking more than others.

 

 

I was so delighted that by avoiding a summer semester back home, I could gain real skills.

As far as dress code goes in Burmese med schools, Ei Tone says she pretty much had to wear a longyi. However, in her free time, she and three other medical students ran a successful business selling graphic tees. Although shirts with English slang were as common in Myanmar as they were anywhere else, LLTT Clothing was one of the first clothing lines to make tees with phrases in the Burmese script.

I was a huge fan. So were some Burmese celebrities. Ei Tone gave me my pick, which was a crop demanding “Are you going to play hard, or go to bed?” that was ironically a classic phrase taught to children in primary schools across Myanmar.

We finished around lunchtime. Some of the cases were more difficult to digest. One patient was going blind, had a fasting blood glucose of 366 mg/dL and a blood pressure of 160/120 mmHg. The normal ranges are 70-100 mg/dL, and 120/80 mmHg, respectively. Nothing could be done because the patient had maxed out on doses of the available prescription drugs.

Still trying to process all I’d been shown in just a few hours, nuns from the adjacent monastery served us a homemade meal. Nurses, doctors, students sat around a short round table on the floor and ate seafood curries and vegetable dishes in a family style. They made sure I was included and got generous helpings of everything. The most memorable dish was one I had not tried before, made from the premature lines of eggs taken from inside hens, pictured below in the top right corner.

 

 

A little poultry sex-ed  from yours truly, a backyard hen owner: female chickens lay an egg approximately once a day starting at 4-5 months of age. Most of the time, the eggs are not fertilized so they never hatch, they are just non-living globs of protein encased within a calcium shell. These are what get sold in stores, and therefore eggs are vegetarian but not vegan. If a rooster is present, the eggs will be fertilized, and they will hatch into baby chicks when properly incubated. No matter what, eggs are constantly developing and being laid by all hens, and it looks like a string of spheres that increase in size with each unit. Thank you for your attention.

 

Day 30

When your street samosa is still warm and crispy as you bite into it, you know it’s gonna be a good day.

Today I helped Dr. Albert and Mr. Min with the Nyaung Tone clinic which meant I had to work the local Yangon buses to find everyone at a very specific tea shop.

A pick-up was arranged and we piled into the back, riding nearly two hours into the jungle. It began to storm as a cyclone was passing through this week, so we let down the covers and created quite the muggy atmosphere to travel in. The equivalent professionals back home would never put up with such conditions. All the more respect to the physicians, pharmacists, and medical students who were choosing to do this, for free, over sleeping in on rainy Sunday mornings like these.

 

 

In addition to recording blood pressure, I practiced opening vials of diuretics and analgesics under the kind and patient guidance of Dr. Albert. A coarse metal disk was used to grind the neck of the bottles, creating a small dent, and then the flat part of the same disk was used to give the top of the bottle a proper whack, breaking the glass.

The cases and limitations with resources were similar to the previous day. The food was even better.

 

 

Day 31

Burmese hospitality. It has blown away all others.

Dr. Min picked me up and then we scooped his friend, Dr. Tin. Their 48-hour shifts at the Pyi Taw Oo Hospital had begun.

I followed Dr. Tin during rounds which were mostly women who had delivered via cesarean section. All were healthily recovering and holding babies with the tiniest Asian faces, with the exception of one new mom who was receiving care for her surgical wound infection. 

I witnessed a case I had not heard of before: penile fibrosis. Caused by chronic abuse of silicone injections that the patient purposefully uses to enlarge their dick.

And while we cloud my once elegant and still very public blog with the topic of dicks, I might as well add that I also shadowed my first urinary cath procedure, longyi edition. The man left holding his collection bag inside a plastic bag. He was old, frail, and adorable.

Again I was taking blood pressure, this time while observing Dr. Tin diagnose a case of pediatric dengue fever. The boy was only four. Dr. Tin explained the Hess test, which had turned positive as petechiae, or red spots from bursting capillaries, popped up all over the patient’s thin forearm.

I was fascinated. And simultaneously being bitten by mosquitoes. The same ones that transmit this virus, a notorious and common diagnosis in the area.

To avoid getting dengue, I hung out in the operating room. I love the woman who was organizing surgical the tools. My few Burmese phrases made her laugh, which sounded like a song.

 

Using 95% hand motions she took me from my nap room to join her for lunch. Her friend put a plate of rice in my hand and before I sat down she had served me a large piece of chicken and one of the only eggs from the curry. She handed me mango. I love you Burma.

Just as I thought the day had peaked because they had me change into scrubs and a super sexy hair net, she handed me coffee and felt that it was necessary to teach me how to eat sunflower seeds.

Day 32

I can’t handle myself as always. And idea is an idea. I live my life with no time for doubting.

The whirlwind-ed events of this day have earned their own post.

 

 

Day 33

A  “two mojitos please” kinda day.