Newsletter 2012 - Francis Holland School

diabetes. On one occasion, after seeing our horrified expressions at an ad-hoc toe
amputation (using minimal quantities of local anaesthetic), the doctor joked, “I’ve
got a bigger amputation to do tomorrow, would you like to do it?”
As well as gaining more clinical experience, it was interesting to compare the
differences between hospital wards in Fiji and at home. For instance, whilst we
are used to having bountiful supplies of alcohol gel at the end of patients’ beds
and a ‘bare below the elbows’ policy in the NHS, in Fiji we had to search for soap
and often had to walk to the maternity ward on the other side of the hospital to
wash our hands. The busy doctors resorted to wiping their hands on the dirty
bedside curtains.
Our small donation of gloves and tourniquets seemed like a tiny drop in the
ocean. Especially as the staff seemed quite adamant to use the gloves not for
protection but as tourniquets, preferring to leave the new pristine tourniquets
to decorate the equipment trolley. We were impressed and amused to see other
ways in which Fijian doctors improvised when equipment was limited. On a
more serious note, we found the Fijian doctors to be truly inspirational. Despite
being overworked and underpaid, they cared about the patient and the person.
Having fewer tests to depend on, they had developed amazing clinical skills and
maintained a very high level of knowledge.
In addition, we were impressed by how well the Fijian patients coped despite
the evident shortcomings of their healthcare system. Native Fijians are devout
Christians and their religion seems to give them great strength. But sometimes this
proves to be a hindrance. We met many people who remained remarkably calm in
the face of death including one lady who despite being diagnosed with a particularly
aggressive breast cancer in her mid-thirties was surprisingly positive and never
stopped smiling, reassured by her belief in God.
Towards the end of our stay we were fortunate enough to spend a day
accompanying some Fijian medical students on a visit to the local Moala Village.
Every year, the students are required to design and carry out a public health project
in a local village. On this preliminary visit, the students were aiming to ascertain
which aspects of the villagers’ health they could monitor and improve. They
were planning to collect data about the villagers’ weight, diet, physical exercise,
smoking, blood pressure, cholesterol and blood sugar levels and provide them with
health education.
Knowing that conservative attire was required for village visits, we made sure our
shoulders were covered and decided it was best to wear trousers. However, when
we saw the medical students were wearing traditional Fijian costume, we knew
we should have opted for a floral floor-length skirt with a matching top. Having
realised the only male medical student, Jona, had failed to make this clear, the girls
reassured us that we could go along in our trousers. It has to be said that it was not
much of a comfort when we saw Jona himself was also wearing a skirt or, as the
Fijians would call it, a “sulu.” Despite feeling slightly self-conscious, we climbed
into the only “ambulance” (a van with a bed) in Nadi for a lift to Moala Village.
After a bumpy ride, we arrived and were introduced to the local village chief.