On Saturday, I left Geta for an eye camp in a town about 150 kilometers north of here and about 4,500 feet higher. The eye camp team was already there (they had traveled there from another eye camp location), and I was meeting them for a 2 day eye camp, then returning to Geta.
To set the stage: the town of Silgadhi is in the "foothills" region of the Himalayas...so not technically mountains, but these "hills" are definitely mountains by the reasonable standards of anyone except the inhabitants of the country that hosts Mt Everest. And the roads between small towns such as Geta and Silgadhi are not great.
I started on Saturday morning by riding, with my backpack, on the back of a little motorcycle from the Geta Eye Hospital to the bus stop in a nearby town, where I boarded a "bus" that was actually a large minivan. In the 115 degree heat, we waited 30 minutes while 17 other people packed the bus, then we took off. About 10km outside of town, we started to climb up into the mountains. The next 7 hours were about the most terrifying of my life. The road was wide enough for 1.75 vehicles, and there was usually a giant cliff face on one side. It was steep and curvy the entire way, and the heat never let up.
Fortunately, the drive was also very pretty. I just couldn't bring myself to look outside the window that often...you all know I'm terrified of heights, right? We passed many little mountain "towns," consisting of a few shacks and shops lining the curves on the sides of the road. About 30 minutes outside of Silgadhi, it started to rain heavily. That's when I was sure I was going to die...the dusty road was now becoming muddy and slippery, and we were still climbing steep curvy hills. I was comforted by the fact that, when the local authorities would finally locate our van at the bottom of the ravine years later, they could probably recover my pictures from the SD card in the camera...and those pictures would probably end up on the blog at some point.
We finally arrived at Silgadhi as the rain stopped, and another small motorcycle came to pick me up and take me the final few kilometers to the Doti district hospital, where we would be staying and conducting the eye camp for the next several days. This motorcycle was driven by one of the local ophthalmic assistants that was helping with the camp. The team consisted of a surgeon from Geta Eye Hospital, several ophthalmic assistants, and several other helpers (cooks/driver, etc). And me. About 10 people total.
Silgadhi is a town situated near the top of a mountainside, with buildings sprinkled around the 2 or 3 roads that meander in that area. It's a beautiful town if you stand and admire the view, but the town itself is very poor, run-down, and poorly kept. We stayed in the hospital "guest-house" which was an open concrete building with a few separate rooms that each had about 10 beds. All the men in one hostel room; women in the other. I won't mention the bathroom except to say I tried to avoid it.
On Sunday morning, we awoke at sunrise and hiked up to a local temple honoring the Hindu god Shiva. I took some nice pictures (I'll post later). We came down and started the screening process at around 8:30, after breakfast. Patients are seen as they show up for the eye camp. They first have the vision checked, then are sent in for the doctor or a trained ophthalmic assistant to examine carefully with a flashlight (or handheld eye microscope if needed). If they are found to have a cataract, they are signed up for surgery. If they are found to have other eye disease that needs more advanced care, they are referred to the nearest eye hospital (in this case, Geta Eye Hospital). After lunch, we operated on about 35 cataracts (I did 6, again illustrating how slow I am compared to the skilled local surgeon). We repeated this on Monday, except with fewer patients. Before starting on Monday morning, we examined our post-op patients, many of whom could see for the first time in years after removing their eye patch. It was a great moment to experience...one that I hope to never forget. But the glee was blunted by the knowledge that many of the patients I saw the day before couldn't be helped with a simple surgery and instead had advanced eye disease (like glaucoma or previous trauma) that could have been prevented or successfully treated with earlier intervention. Turning those patients away without any way to offer them help was heartbreaking, especially when they had traveled so far to see the eye doctors, and had probably heard stories of similarly blind patients who had their vision restored after a simple surgery at an eye camp.
Tuesday morning (today) I awoke early and rode the motorcycle (again) to the local bus stop, got on a similar "bus," and started the journey back to Geta. This time, the ride wasn't nearly as bad. It wasn't as hot, the bus wasn't as packed, and most importantly, I knew what to expect. So I was actually able to enjoy the scenery. Nepal is a beautiful country.
Overall, the eye camp was a fantastic experience that tested me in ways that are uncomfortable to be tested. I have a deep level of respect for the local eye care providers that make this sort of journey routinely. They are making a huge impact on the lives of people in the poorest and most remote regions of the country. Now I'm back at Geta, I've showered (thank goodness), and I'll be working here for the next 3 to 4 days before heading back to Kathmandu.
To set the stage: the town of Silgadhi is in the "foothills" region of the Himalayas...so not technically mountains, but these "hills" are definitely mountains by the reasonable standards of anyone except the inhabitants of the country that hosts Mt Everest. And the roads between small towns such as Geta and Silgadhi are not great.
I started on Saturday morning by riding, with my backpack, on the back of a little motorcycle from the Geta Eye Hospital to the bus stop in a nearby town, where I boarded a "bus" that was actually a large minivan. In the 115 degree heat, we waited 30 minutes while 17 other people packed the bus, then we took off. About 10km outside of town, we started to climb up into the mountains. The next 7 hours were about the most terrifying of my life. The road was wide enough for 1.75 vehicles, and there was usually a giant cliff face on one side. It was steep and curvy the entire way, and the heat never let up.
Fortunately, the drive was also very pretty. I just couldn't bring myself to look outside the window that often...you all know I'm terrified of heights, right? We passed many little mountain "towns," consisting of a few shacks and shops lining the curves on the sides of the road. About 30 minutes outside of Silgadhi, it started to rain heavily. That's when I was sure I was going to die...the dusty road was now becoming muddy and slippery, and we were still climbing steep curvy hills. I was comforted by the fact that, when the local authorities would finally locate our van at the bottom of the ravine years later, they could probably recover my pictures from the SD card in the camera...and those pictures would probably end up on the blog at some point.
We finally arrived at Silgadhi as the rain stopped, and another small motorcycle came to pick me up and take me the final few kilometers to the Doti district hospital, where we would be staying and conducting the eye camp for the next several days. This motorcycle was driven by one of the local ophthalmic assistants that was helping with the camp. The team consisted of a surgeon from Geta Eye Hospital, several ophthalmic assistants, and several other helpers (cooks/driver, etc). And me. About 10 people total.
Silgadhi is a town situated near the top of a mountainside, with buildings sprinkled around the 2 or 3 roads that meander in that area. It's a beautiful town if you stand and admire the view, but the town itself is very poor, run-down, and poorly kept. We stayed in the hospital "guest-house" which was an open concrete building with a few separate rooms that each had about 10 beds. All the men in one hostel room; women in the other. I won't mention the bathroom except to say I tried to avoid it.
On Sunday morning, we awoke at sunrise and hiked up to a local temple honoring the Hindu god Shiva. I took some nice pictures (I'll post later). We came down and started the screening process at around 8:30, after breakfast. Patients are seen as they show up for the eye camp. They first have the vision checked, then are sent in for the doctor or a trained ophthalmic assistant to examine carefully with a flashlight (or handheld eye microscope if needed). If they are found to have a cataract, they are signed up for surgery. If they are found to have other eye disease that needs more advanced care, they are referred to the nearest eye hospital (in this case, Geta Eye Hospital). After lunch, we operated on about 35 cataracts (I did 6, again illustrating how slow I am compared to the skilled local surgeon). We repeated this on Monday, except with fewer patients. Before starting on Monday morning, we examined our post-op patients, many of whom could see for the first time in years after removing their eye patch. It was a great moment to experience...one that I hope to never forget. But the glee was blunted by the knowledge that many of the patients I saw the day before couldn't be helped with a simple surgery and instead had advanced eye disease (like glaucoma or previous trauma) that could have been prevented or successfully treated with earlier intervention. Turning those patients away without any way to offer them help was heartbreaking, especially when they had traveled so far to see the eye doctors, and had probably heard stories of similarly blind patients who had their vision restored after a simple surgery at an eye camp.
Tuesday morning (today) I awoke early and rode the motorcycle (again) to the local bus stop, got on a similar "bus," and started the journey back to Geta. This time, the ride wasn't nearly as bad. It wasn't as hot, the bus wasn't as packed, and most importantly, I knew what to expect. So I was actually able to enjoy the scenery. Nepal is a beautiful country.
Overall, the eye camp was a fantastic experience that tested me in ways that are uncomfortable to be tested. I have a deep level of respect for the local eye care providers that make this sort of journey routinely. They are making a huge impact on the lives of people in the poorest and most remote regions of the country. Now I'm back at Geta, I've showered (thank goodness), and I'll be working here for the next 3 to 4 days before heading back to Kathmandu.
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3 comments:
Such a moving experience. Glad you wrote about the scary drive after you had returned safely. You would have had me worried. These blog posts are wonderful. Great descriptions of what you are experiencing. Hope you do keep the experiences fresh as you come back to the states.
I forgot to mention that 4 people (locals) barfed on the ride up the mountain, so clearly it wasn't just me being the scared foreigner. One of the barfers was a kid, who barfed all over 2 people sitting across from him. It was funny and gross.
I love all ur stories and vivid descriptions... I feel like I'm there also.agree with Anna about the mountain trip..and glad u r safely in Geta again God has gifted u richly. I am glad u r able to have this experience!
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