Fear of the Unknown

Days have gone by. Patrick and I talk of Haiti as if the decision has already been made. And maybe it has. Timing seems perfect. Our shared dream would be put into motion. The opportunity is too good to turn down. I dream of Haiti--a land thus far I only know about through books. I am excited at picturing life reduced to basics, learning a culture and a language from within, getting thrown outside of my comfort zone. Its exhilarating. But...

My responsibilities there are vague. The overriding organization that we would work within has a holistic approach to community development, and I would work in one cog of the wheel. Creativity and self design will be required. Instead of providing details about how my days will run, what patients I will see and what staff I will work with, I hear instead of the overall basic need of systemic reform on Haitian health, the need for networking between the small clinics supported by individual churches currently in Haiti in order to provide more unified care, the need for figuring out how to get patients to the places that can treat their ills. Medical volunteers coming from the States need to be organized in order to maximize the good that they can do in a short time. I heard a lot of "organizational" and "policy" lingo. Eek. I have NO training in such. Will I really be any good to anyone there?

I always day dreamed of myself as the doctor working within the throngs of people who needed diagnosis, medicine, intervention. Working alongside native health care workers learning all the while. And of course out of that, I'm sure I'd recognize inefficiencies... needs... and try to work for ways to make the system flow more smoothly. But walking into a job that asks that of me on day one seems daunting. I also realize that it is systemic reform that developing countries need more than anything, and that doing this work likely will make the most longstanding differences in the health of the people at large. But I'm having a hard time feeling confident in my own capabilities to tackle such tasks and worrying about spending less time doing what I absolutely love and am passionate about doing--patient interaction. Such an experience in public health would only strengthen my abilities as a health professional, but is this what I trained to do? Will I know what to do when I get there? Am I worrying about things ahead of their time?

I'm used to interviewing for jobs that have ridiculously detailed outlines of what I would be expected to do, where I would be expected to be every minute of every day. I can already close my eyes and accurately picture what a month in my life would look like working in a job I've interviewed for here in the States. There is NO mystery. My training up to this point doesn't require a whole lot of creativity. I've been told what to memorize, what to learn, where to be at what time. Haiti asks me to be creative. To be flexible. To come in knowing nothing. To learn and to be lead into action. To work outside of structure. It's scary. I know I'll be stretched in ways I can't imagine now, I'll be pulled to work in ways I don't know I'm capable of. Part of me says, "DIVE IN! JUST DO IT! Seize what is sure to be a life changing opportunity and trust in your training and in the course of your life!" The other part is waving fearful flags that 12 years of my life and training cannot possibly prepare me for what I will see, experience and be motivated to do on such a venture, and confidence in my ability falters.

Such ego. I battle with my ego. I've come to a point in my career where I feel confident in what I do, the care I can give, the advice I can hand out. And considering a change of fate into a place where I am the most ignorant person in the village is humbling. So I have to put my ego down. I have to realize that the education I seek will come with days of looking and listening and learning from the people I will meet in a land I have yet to discover. If I am meant to help along a process already in the works, then my role will come. If my hands can be of service, than the gifts that have been given to me by luck of birth will be utilized.

My romantic visions of life overseas put me in a tent, scarf around my head, heart racing as I worked to resuscitate a dying patient, starting lines and pushing fluids, handing out anti-parasitic medications to big-bellied children, delivering a baby in a village hut. But my call also asks me to be more community health centric, to visualize the bigger picture and hope to make a more lasting difference beyond the solitary face staring back at me and into lives of generations to follow. I feel so small. The task so large. Yet it is not my task... it is the task of the people of Haiti. And I would heed a call to be a worker in the machine, to bring my own talents to the effort in whatever way they can be of use. I can do small things with great love. I will be one of many hands. I will learn from teachers there, from Haitians who have their stories to tell. And I set down my angst and ready myself to listen.