Eye-opening

Yesterday I had my first experience at getting a real good glimpse of some of the conditions of the First Nations reserves, especially in these remote settings. Yesterday morning I embarked on a two-hour boat ride with my attending physician to do a clinic at one of the smaller, even more remote villages than where I am already stationed. They only have a nursing station there full-time, and he's the only visiting physician at the moment.

Their health centre there is impressive; it looks like it was built within the last decade and is still in rather good shape. My clinic had its interesting variation - MRSA impetigo, uncontrolled diabetes, an incision + drainage, etc.... but it was the home visits that made the most lasting impression on me.

Without going into too many details, I saw some of the worst conditions of poverty that I can remember in my life time. I'd like to think I've had my fair share of exposure to seeing people live in dismal conditions given my mother is from the Philippines, and ensuring I witness the realities of living conditions there from a young age, and the summer I spent in rural Tanzania a few years ago. But some of the conditions I saw yesterday... I couldn't remember the last time I saw some situations that hopeless. One particular household, I don't think I'll ever forget. Everything from the condition of this prominent non-mobile elder who we were treating, to the condition in which he and his family lived was not something you could make up. It was a confusing feeling too. They were not a conventional obvious lack of food, clothing or basic needs like you see in those World Vision ads. This household seemed to have these necessities; but its upkeep was non-existent. Clutter was scattered everywhere from old discarded electronics to food crumbs. There was food out, which had clearly been out for weeks given that it was covered in mold. Our patient only seemed to have his home-care nurse looking after him judging by the dry urine and flaking skin around him. Earlier that week, apparently a dog had to be removed from the property due to being severe malnourished. I spent that morning on a two-hour ride on a 17-foot boat in choppy waters after eating a gigantic egg and cheese sandwich, and it was after that home visit that I felt the most ill that day.

It's not a feeling of pity I took away from the home visits. While I did feel sorrow and sadness for these families, it was more than that. I felt embarrassed that these living situations occur regularly on these First Nations reserves within our country on which we pride ourselves on our strong social infrastructure, and that while we call ourselves a "first world nation", these pockets all over the country are clearly no better than developing nations.

I can't attach blame to these feelings though, or offer insight into what I've seen. My time here is also shedding even more light to me on the layers of complexity of the relationships between the government, First Nations people and other citizens of this country. Many fractures exist. In many ways I have seen the friendliness, openness and beauty of these First Nations villages and its people, but I have also learned more about the politics, tensions, dynamics and bureaucracy that exist at many levels. Some people dedicate their lives to these aforementioned areas.

There's still so much to learn.