What Spring Brings

The snow is melting. Things that lie buried by the snow all winter long start to appear; beer cans, fox limbs, rusty mattresses, old ford trucks. It's like poverty, previously imperceptible to the foreign eye, is blossoming everywhere.

Fishless Ice Fishing

It was beautiful all week long and the 1 day we decided to go for a picnic, it was miserable out. Cold and grey. Undeterred by the weather we hit the lake for some ice fishing and a fire. The fire was great. The fish non-existent. The ice was 6 feet deep, I saw it drilled with my own eyes. And I still get freaked out when I'm alone on the ice! Too many educational ice safety videos in elementary school for sure...

Jesus!

Easter weekend we decided now that the snowmobile was working we needed to get out of town. The nearest community is about 200kms away so getting out of town meant just that, getting out... not necessarily getting to anywhere. Except for the mountain. It wasn't too high or too dangerous despite what the locals said. Jenn and I were smart and let Myles and the teachers slodge through the waist high snow in a 2 hour trek to the top before we even came to the base (see picture below for snow depth). By the time we got there we actually had a trail.

It was awesome. We took the dogs and made it to the top in about an hour, falling through the unpredictable snow to our belly buttons every 50 feet or so.

We discovered something unexpected at the top. A miniature tepee. I know I know, this is Aboriginal land; a tepee is not so crazy. It was what we found inside the tepee that made us cringe. Jesus. A color image of Jesus poised behind a plastic doll of the Virgin Mary standing on an ever classic, paper doily. The new age missionaries sure ruined a perfectly spiritual moment with their idolatry. But it was Easter after all and if Jesus is the reason for the long weekend, God bless!

In the Meantime...

So I just had fish, that didn't come from a can, for the first time since I've been here. It was delightful. And I’ve made it my new resolution to eat as much fish as possible while I'm home. The fish was a gift from one of the support staff here and I believe it came straight out of 1 of the many lakes surrounding us. White fish it's called. Yes that's the type of fish "white fish" not white colored fish as I finally discovered after 7 weeks of asking "but no, what type ....?". It was tasty and I shared it with my beautiful preceptors Jenn and Myles after (what felt like) a long stint of suppers of popcorn, salads and frozen leftovers.

I actually didn't write tonight to bore you with my daily meals, but just to send a quick message to my fans (all 10 of you :D) that I've been doing much better since the long weekend break.We managed to get out of Gameti and climb a mountain/really big, rocky, hill. My spirits have been better ever since. That and the fact that I'm 3 and a half weeks from getting back to the east (thanks for the reminder Patrick) has made the cabin fever subside a little.

I’ll write more soon with tales from our mountain excursion.

White Sugar and Vodka

The Tlicho Flag

So truth be told, I’ve been uninspired lately. I work an 8 hour day in the clinic (with a late night call back a couple times a week), come home and go for a jog, walk or ski with my co-workers/preceptors. I make some chow, do some research and pass out. Wake up, rinse, repeat. Tuesday and Thursday is vollyball night where I go get my ass kicked in a grubby old gym with the few other adults in town who play sports. On the weekends we usually go for a long ski or snowmobile ride and sometimes watch a movie with the school teachers (ie. the other white folks).

This weekend is the last weekend the ice road’s open so half of Gameti has gone to party in Rae, the Vagas of the North, or shop in Yellowknife, New York of the North. When the end of the week came and it was 10pm and I was hanging out in my apartment screwing around on the internet, alone, I was wishing I had bummed a ride with someone to Yellowknife, or anywhere; anywhere outside of Gameti. I’ve been here 6 weeks now with 4 left. It’s not bad I know. Considering how much work I have to do at the Health Centre, 4 weeks is nothing. But when I think about how long till I get to go out for a beer, do my own grocery shopping or just hang out with friends, it feels like forever.

I’ve been trying to make friends here, but it’s tough. When I asked what people do for fun here I was told “drink, smoke and have sex”. That would certainly explain the high population rates. Believe it or not, I have no problem with drinking, smoking or having sex, but that’s not exactly what I had in mind. Ice fishing, drumming, dancing perhaps? Something that’s less likely to get me in trouble. No such luck with the locals.

I had another suturing job this week. Took 17 stitches. I made it through without getting queezy once! I'm desensitizing myself 1 bloody wound at a time....

Saturday Night Surgery

Since I arrived here on March 4th I have been oncall. 24/7. The community has been relatively quiet though, only a few late night calls and most of them were just pukey kids. There are no RCMP here so the fact that things have been quiet is a good thing.

Mind you I like a bit of excitement; and last night we got some. My first suturing gig ☺

Nothing dramatic, just an accidental knife slice. They didn't hit a tendon, just a good chunk of fatty tissue. We cleaned the wound and prepared to sew. The laceration was only about 1 and 1/2 cm long but it bled enough. I hadn't had a lot to eat so I quickly ran off and stuffed some trail mix down my throat before I got too lightheaded. I've passed out in surgery before and it's not cool.

Despite it being the first time I saw my preceptor stitch something up other than the pork chop we had practiced on, he let me sew 2 stitches in. My steady hands surprised myself. But to be honest, I really wanted to cringe with every poke like the patient's mother. To keep from getting queezy I tried to imagine it was the pork chop. Minus the blood, fresh fatty tissue, tough mother fuckin' skin and live subject, no difference really.

None the less I made it through without butchering the flesh or fainting. Mother made it without crying. And the patient made it through with all her digits, now intact.

Sweet success.