My Neighbor's Backyard

When I embarked on my lone journey to west Africa, I had high hopes to fall in love with nursing again. My journey managed to capture a different hope entirely.

Getting to Ghana and getting to Ghana, made me instantly regret my decision to ever go. First of all, three flights (over twenty-four hours of travel) for a girl who did not appreciate flying. Second of all, a six hour drive (if I remember correctly) from the airport in Accra to Takoradi (where I'd be staying during my time there). For context, these roads are not paved and rather bumpy. For further context, I get sick on a Mary-go-round. Continuing the furthermore, I was in a van with three large men I had never met and no clue what the route was, in pitch black dark (don't tell my mom). So, that's getting there and then there is actually getting there, or arriving to my blue house on Obiri Avenue.

Instantly, as fast as my regret, the heat hit me as I stepped out of that van (which was the only thing that turned out to have air-conditioning during my stay, that and the grocery store down the street). There was no air-conditioning in the house and I was convinced that I was going to die on my first night. I was confident that the human body (or at least my body) could not actually withstand that type of humidity. I did not know that I could sweat that much. So, naturally my thoughts went from zero to a hundred. "This was it." I shut my eyes.

Then to my surprise, I woke up. Now my thought was "I originally was going to do 8 weeks. Thank God I decided on 4 instead. I really rather do 1 though." Followed by, "What the hell am I doing here?".

After climbing down from the top bunk, I saw Takoradi in the daylight for the first time. Still somewhat regretful, but not completely anymore. This was truly something I had never seen. A world to which was so unknown to me, and for that I was in awe. Through my window out of my bedroom I could see my gorgeous backyard for the weeks to come. Much like my journey, beautiful but odd, looking flowers and greenery surrounded the most darling pool. Palm trees stretched over the wire on top of the fence. Out the other window, was my neighbor's yard. Dirt and a concrete blocked home.

At the time, it was like I was looking out of someone else's eyes. I realize now that it wasn't my eyes that had changed, but it was a change of heart. My perspective on a lot was being shifted. Seeing my neighbor's yard through my "high" up window was the start of that shift.

Nursing and learning was apart of my role for that 4 week period but each morning that I woke up in Ghana I could see I needed to partake in a bit more. I had to be more understanding and far far less judgmental. As a nurse, having that mindset is to be a given. As a human being in an unknown culture , it's a challenge. I had to let go of a lot of what already made me, me. I had to be open for that change.

My first day on the medical/ surgery floor a twelve year-old boy was gasping like a fish out of water. His jaundiced eyes were bulging out of his underdeveloped head - like a fish. I had seen moments before death before this but never of a child. So, I told myself that maybe it was just apart of his process or treatment. Maybe he wasn't actually dying and maybe it was more likely, that I had no clue what I was actually looking at. I've had a lot of moments where I have felt like an idiot but the day I met this boy, was the most idiotic I have ever felt.

I was instructed to introduce myself to the patients. When I got to this struggling boy I did just that. "Hi, I am Tristan and I am a volunteer nurse. Can I get you anything? Any water?" A few things; That is one too many English words for a local, this patient can barely catch his breathe so why all the questions that I would need to have him answer, and he could care less who I am- he is dying. I have never felt so incompetent.

The next morning I came back and he was gone. This is when I learned his story to Effia Nkwanta Hospital. He had Hepatitis and his mother wanted to listen to her church and treat her son with prayers/ religion. To a lot of the locals in Takoradi, western medicine was believed to be less effective than what the church recommended. The doctor explained to me that if the boy had treatment earlier in his diagnosis, that it was likely he would've survived. I was told cases like this was not uncommon to Ghanaians. Many people can't afford insurance or do not understand the benefits, which can further lead a family not to seek medical attention until it is often too late. Or ever.

My judgement was, "What kind of mother would do that? She didn't love her child." Then I heard that the boy's mother couldn't catch her breathe either once he died. Tears rushing on her cheeks to his in hopes to put him back in the waters. Casting aside my judgements, I asked myself, "If I was in her exact position, in the exact circumstances, raised with her exact values- what would I do?"

It was clear. While, I didn't agree with this mother's decisions, she loved her son deeply and did the absolute best she could with what she had.

Judgment is difficult to overcome. It is difficult to alter your heart to fit foreign surroundings. So, while still learning, I try not to be so set on my sights and look everywhere else before I decide how I really feel. I look at my backyard and I look at my neighbor's.