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Medical Officer- Fiji Reef Conservation Project

reef life
reef life
fijian children
fijian children
the base
the base
relaxing between dives
relaxing between dives
by Andrew Lucas last modified August 02, 2006 at 02:07

Medical Officer- Fiji Reef Conservation Project
A sleepness night as I consider the surgical options for remedying Sam’s
snoring. To be honest I’m keeping my ears pricked for the phone - I saw a 5
year old girl at the resort earlier in the evening -dehydrated, pyrexial,
vomiting - and I asked them to call if she deteriorates … a middle of the
night boat trip to Lautoka hospital is not inviting.
Finally give up at 5.15, get up and since I’m awake, try poisoning the vols
with my approximation of porridge for breakfast. At least Henry has finally
purloined some real coffee from the mainland, so I’m vaguely bearable
company after the second cup.
Breakfast is followed by am surgery - the usual assortment of ‘ming
-infected cuts, tropical ulcers and infected mosquito bites to dress.
Things heal slowly here - dirty sea water, sand and humidity don’t mix! As
usual nag the vols about wearing shoes around the place and putting iodine
on all scrapes … I’m beginning to sound like my grandmother.
Hide out in the MO’s pit for a bit, but am spotted by Henry brandishing mop
and broom so get on with the daily chore quota.
Hop on the boat for an early reefcheck survey at ‘Magic.’ The survey line
contorts itself into a ball of string causing consternation and hilarity,
but alls well that ends well and despite newly trained rescue divers
eagerness, we avoid administering oxygen to all. Stop off at Castaway to
check on the little girl and am pleased to see she’s much better.
Back for lunch and more medical bits and bobs. Decide to lance an abcess I’
ve been watching grow for a few days despite antibiotics and don sterile
gloves etc etc. All goes well - the vol goes to lie down for an hour or two
whilst I play soothing music to cheer her up on the local radio.
On radio duty in the afternoon, so take the time to go through the trauma
box contents, check I know where everything is, that it’s all in date and
replace a few bits and bobs. Before I’m done, I hear screeches of ‘tanks’
from the beach. It’s time for the daily weight lifting session unloading the
boat of food stores, dive gear and filled cylinders.
Thank god, someone else is cooking.
Just sit down for a quite coffee when ‘Doc have you got any paracetamol, and
can you just look at this ‘thing’ on my back and oh yes, I’ve gone deaf can
you look in my ears?
Another hard day in paradise …
- Denny Levett


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