Friday, April 3, 2015

Hope.

Habari za leo!

A theme I return to often is the swiftness with which time passes; my time at Tenwek has come to a close. The past month has been one of the most formational during all of medical school – I’ve been able to do more, make more decisions, worked closely with residents and attendings.  During my time here I’ve scrubbed on cases ranging from obstetrics to general surgery to neurosurgery to orthopaedics to urology to gynecology.  All of this has taken place under the guidance of the incredibly talented and compassionate residents and consultants (attendings) who are serving here in Bomet.  My goodbye is not a farewell.

A final photo essay from my time here at Tenwek:
              
(Warning: there is an intraoperative photo in the photo essay.)


A lot of the visiting crew sitting on the porch.  Closest to the windows is a small bench that is able to rock back and forth.  In the evenings, after work is done but before dinner, we will sit and just enjoy conversation.  

 

One thing that is quite abundant is Coca Cola.  Their marketing campaign of “Share a Coke with…” extends all the way into Kenya.  It is not clear on the photo, but this one said “Share a Coke with Auntie”.  To all of my dear aunts, this photo is for you.


One thing I love about Bomet is the abundant natural beauty.  The area is exceptionally verdant and flowers thrive: good soil, 12 hours of sunlight 365 days per year, temperatures in the 70’s.   Here at Tenwek there have been a number of the long-termers who have planted rose bushes – this example is immediately across from the guest house.  This past weekend with the watercolors I brought along I attempted to paint how I saw the rosebush, with varying degrees of success.


A uterine fiberoid taking up the entirety of the abdomen.  More on this later.



My last day on rounds.  From left to right: Damaris (chief resident), myself, Valentine (3rd year resident), Victor (intern), John (4th year resident), Dr. Many (consultant/attending), Patricia (1st year resident), and Lando (2nd year resident). 

Hope

The intraoperative photo was from a case my second-to-last day at Tenwek.  The woman had presented 5 years with a lower pelvic mass and did not want to undergo surgery – she was scared and wanted medical management. She returned to care with on a Sunday night complaining of abdominal fullness and difficulty breathing. A CT scan was performed which showed the mass filling the entirety of the abdomen all the way up to the diaphragm compressing the liver to the right, the entirety of the small bowel to the left, and the kidneys to the back of the belly.  Concerningly, we thought that there was blood supply to the mass coming from the retroperitoneum and as such had blood on hand when we went to theatre.  Dr. Hernandez, the Ob/Gyn who I became friends with and invited me to join in on the case, said “I hope we can get it out”. 

Fortunately the blood supply was not coming from the retroperitoneum (from behind – very hard to get to) but from the top, from the omentum.  First, we performed an omentectomy, taking out the parasitic blood supply. The neck of the tumor did not have any neovascularization and the rest of the case was similar in nature to a standard hysterectomy.  Dr. Hernandez and the other consultants were able to get the entirety of the mass out successfully with acceptably low blood loss.  In all likelihood the mass was uterine fibroids that had been allowed to grow for far too long a time.  Currently the patient is on her first day after her operation and is doing well – she has hope for a full recovery.


On my last day at Tenwek I rounded on the male surgical ward.  There were only three patients and I was expecting it to be much like any other day: look up vitals, read through the history and operation, check for ins/outs, examine the patients, and then present them to the team.
                                                              
Esophageal cancer is endemic in Kenya.  Dr. White, the chief of surgery and UMMS grad (Go Blue!  He proudly wears a Michigan Wolverienes scrub cap) trained at Brown then did a thoracic fellowship and has likely personally placed more esophageal stents than any other person alive.  The disease is insidious and presents late, with patients arriving for their initial clinic appointment malnourished usually with a tumor that is unresectable.  Ideally there is neoadjuvant (prior to surgery) chemotherapy; this is not available unless one is wealthy in Kenya.  Normally the cancer is present in older individuals but in Kenya the cancer shows up in the very young.  To this day nobody really understands the reason why.
                                              
The second patient I examined on rounds was an 18 year old male who presented to clinic with symptoms of not being able to swallow.  He had a scope put down his throat which showed a large mass – cancer – at the junction between his esophagus and stomach.  He was brought to surgery the day before to see if it could be taken out. Tragically the tumor had spread to surrounding structures and there were enlarged lymph nodes next to the aorta – it was unresectable.  Dr. White placed a stent and closed the midline incision. 

Being 18 years old and the fact that he was opened and then closed there was nothing acutely wrong with the young man – he was the definition of a stable POD (postoperative day) 1.  As I turned to go, I was asked by his father who was with him:

“Doctor, do you have any advice?”

Dr. White has published extensively on stenting in Esophageal cancer; posters and papers of his research decorate the upper floor of the theatre building.   The average length of survival after stenting is less than 1 year.  I was lost for words.  The last thing I wanted to do was offer false hope for a cure – it is one of the largest disservices one can do to another.

Knowing not what else to say I turned back and said after a long pause:

“Today is Good Friday.  Sunday is Easter.  Cling to Jesus.” 

I had to stop in the hallway to compose myself prior to seeing the next patient.


I would argue that Tenwek is the flagship program for the Pan-African Academy of Christian Surgeons.  Currently there are more than 10 residents per year and they have had two stellar graduating classes.  If I turn out to be a quarter of the surgeon as Dr. Agneta, who came from Tenwek’s first class, I will consider myself a success – by the end of her residency program she logged 5,000 cases, more than four times the average amount for an American General Surgery graduate. She is going to be leaving for South Africa, where she will complete a pediatric surgery fellowship.

The rest of the residents are cut from the same cloth.  A number of them have completed a 2 year fellowship in endoscopy.  During one week of my stay the upper level residents were in Mombasa at the Surgical Society of Kenya presenting research they had conducted.  One of the residents (residents!) is the assistant editor of one of Kenya’s major surgical journals.  Another is from South Sudan, training in orthopedics, and is going to go back to his homeland to be the sole surgeon in the area – he will be a busy man.

What is the function of a program like PAACS?  There are surgical residency programs in Kenya that are run by the government.  In all of the major cities there are places that train surgeons – what makes Tenwek different? 

Medicine is primarily a moral activity.  Yes, significant amounts of technical skill and scientific knowledge are required and are acquired throughout a lifetime of a practicing physician, but technical skill and scientific knowledge are not the ends of medicine. Instead, they are means to a moral end: the alleviation of the suffering of another human being by either prolonging life or by making its end more tranquil.
                                                     
Yet it is a grave mistake to think that suffering is consigned to the physical.  Anyone who has seen the long, slow decline of a loved one knows this to be true. 

The questions of “Why” are  sometimes answerable in a physical sense.  “Tumors grow for known as well as unknown reasons when control of the cell cycle spins out of control.  The tumor at the distal end of an esophagus is causing a narrowing of the lumen leaving normal contents unable to pass through distally.  Eventually, the tumor will invade through the wall into adjacent structures and seed surrounding structures.  Death will result from malnutrition leading to infection, invasion of the tumor into a critical structure, or some combination thereof.”   

But in the metaphysical, spiritual sense, the questions are much more difficult.  “Why me? Why the 18 year old boy?” 
                                 
These types of questions are not answered; these types of questions are journeyed through. It is this journeying process that the PAACS residents are being discipled through every single week through the example of the consultants, regular blue book meetings, and regular Bible studies.  They are being trained to treat the whole patient and walk alongside them during their journey, not just resect their tumors.   This type of training is what sets Tenwek and the other PAACS residency programs apart from any other I have visited.

It is because of the PAACS residents that the future of surgery in Kenya and beyond is bright, bright with hope.

Onward to Togo – it will be different, but good.

BWANA akubariki na kukulinda,
BWANA akuangazie nuru ya uso wake na kukufadhili, 
BWANA akugeuzie uso wake na kukupa amani.


-John

No comments:

Post a Comment