Christmas in June

I will admit, I'm having a very hard time grasping the seasons here. In my Northern Hemisphere reared brain, June equates to warmth, sun, and sitting outside on a deck catching some rays. Unfortunately, I've completely thrown my atmospheric timetable out of whack by moving to a country in the Southern Hemisphere where it is now winter. Let me tell you, I thought I could handle the cold. I was wrong. This past week has been one of the coldest on record here in Taranaki with Monday's temperature never rising about 3 degrees Celsius. That temperature in and of itself would be fine, but combine it with blustering southerly winds and rain, means I nearly didn't leave the comfort of my thrice blanketed bed. Oh, and central heating? An almost non-existent concept in most New Zealand homes, including my flat. They live on space heating. You can imagine how quickly I awaken in the morning going from a warm bedroom to a cold hallway and bathroom.

Fortunately, we on the North Island have not suffered to the extent of those on the South Island which was blanketed in up to 3 meters of snow over the last two weeks, cutting off power to most of the island for up to 10 days. Emergency rations from the North Island were flown in by helicopter. Agricultural areas were particularly hit hard, as farmers were unable to reach their livestock, requiring helicopters to make daily scouting flights to check on the animals. Eventually power was restored and roads were reopened, but not before another storm dumped more snow, this time on the high ranges of both islands. This temporarily closed central roads on both islands, forcing transport trucks to be rerouted over our usually quiet Taranaki regional roads.

With all this snow around I nearly expect Christmas carolers and lights to pop up on every street corner. This idea only encouraged by the occasional Christmas carol played on my iPod stereo as it shuffles through my albums. Unfortunately, Christmas will not appear for another six months. By then I'll be getting ready for the Christmas barbecue.

Success

As I was going about my random chores today, having settled into a regular routine, I realized this has been quite a week of accomplishments, both for myself and close relations. Friday marked five months since I started working here in New Zealand. It's hard for me to believe time has gone by that quickly. What's more amazing is that the novelty of living and working here has become routine (as evidenced by my less frequent blog entries). I've found my place, both at work and in the social setting. We've made some wonderful changes in the clinic that have pleased both the employees and, more importantly, increased patient satisfaction. The once arduous task of coming into work has now become enjoyable, despite still being the only GP in the practice. Granted, we still have a lot of room to grow, but it's nice to know I have the backing of the administrative staff, something I wasn't always convinced of in the beginning.

Socially, I've found my niche through athletic outlets. Yesterday marked my fifth game of netball, and out first win! That's right folks, our team is actually getting it together. Amazingly I didn't get called once for contact or obstruction. A far cry from the near dozen penalties I had called against me in my first game. I also decided to sign up for a half-marathon. The countryside is so beautiful, and more importantly flat, that I didn't think extending my usual 10K loop to a 21.1K race would be that difficult. I may bite myself later for this decision. Besides, I'm such a regular at the gym, noted by the fact that when I don't show up on a given day they ask if something was wrong, I thought it best to find some activity that would give me a different venue for my athletic goals.

Personally, I succeeded in making my first international call over the internet today. This to a friend who's living in Mexico City of all places for the summer. Seemingly a small accomplishment in the big scheme of things, but the mere fact that I can talk to a friend in a different country for free still fascinates me. It allows me to stay connected despite being half a world away. Modern technology is so wonderful.

On a congratulatory note, last Sunday marked my parent's 4oth wedding anniversary and my close friend's 1st. Two couples who prove that marriage is much more then a matrimonial union, but one of friendship, trust, and kindness.

Strike it rich

One of the main reasons I decided to move to New Zealand for work was that it gave me the opportunity to practice rural medicine. Granted, I could have found such an opportunity in the states, but who wouldn't jump at the chance to live in an exceptionally beautiful country? The medical climate in the states for Family Medicine physicians practically dictates that those who want to practice full spectrum family medicine (ie, including obstetrics) must either work in academics, thus teaching others, or practice in a rural area. I knew that I wanted to have a full spectrum practice, especially after dedicating an extra year of training solely in the area of obstetrics, but I didn't know which route I wanted to take in order to achieve this goal. I was fortunate enough to be given a faculty position in Seattle before I left. Although the time was short, only four months in total, I got a good feel for academia. My time here has been consumed in the rural setting. While the medical climate in New Zealand essentially dictates that GPs don't practice obstetrics, a component I very much miss, I'm still getting a good taste of what it means to be a full spectrum community doctor.

The irony is that as my time here goes by I forget the hardships of academic medicine--watching resident physician working long hours, being underpaid, and thriving for knowledge. That's until this week came along and the media buzz that junior doctors, the equivalent to American resident physicians or doctors in training, plan to go on strike. They're fighting for the same thing we did five years ago: fewer hours, more pay, more appreciation. I hadn't even realized this would be a problem, especially in a country that values closing shops at five on Friday and not reopening until Monday so that everyone can enjoy the weekend. I guess the politics of medicine are the same no matter what country you're in.

What does this ultimately mean for me? It will present a few hiccups as patients won't be able to get their surgeries scheduled or see their specialists. Ultimately they'll be sent back to me, sometimes complaining, but often understanding. Yet for all the temporary difficulties this may present, I really hope the junior doctors get what they deserve: greater appreciation and a better lifestyle. For in the end, we all deserve a little of that.

Hail to the Queen

Or at least her observed birthday because it meant another day off, a three day weekend, and a chance to explore another part of the country. This time I headed to the southern part of the North Island, known as the Wairarapa. Known for its up and coming wine growing area, Martinborough, it's also cultivating a new weekend getaway culture for Wellingtonians since it sits only an hour north. Host to some amazing tramping given its proximity to two major ranges, the Rimutake and Tararua, and only 3 1/2 hours drive south from Hawera, it seemed the perfect weekend retreat. I was not disappointed.

After a particularly taxing week at work involving an overnight stay at a local Marae and heated discussion about the internal governance of the clinic, I was ready to escape. Despite getting away an hour later then expected, waiting for my gas heater to be repaired in my flat, I managed to make it down to my destination point of Greytown by Friday evening. Seated right in the heart of the region, it presented a great step-off point for all my adventures.

Saturday afforded a beautiful, sunny, although cold, day and a tour around the town. Managing to support the local economy through some serious retail therapy, I met quite a few locals. I'm still intrigued that although I've been here almost 5 months and feel fairly assimilated into the culture, I still get recognized as a foreigner via my American "accent". It always leads into a 10-15 minute discussion revolving around whether I'm on holiday, why I'm in New Zealand, why I chose New Zealand, and ultimately my profession. There's always one amongst the succession of inquisitors that gives me the look as if to say, "Are you old enough to be a GP?" This was reinforced by the fact that one young chap, who was only 20 himself, guessed that I was only 23. Oh, flattery will get you everywhere.

Sunday presented with grey skies and some skywater, but it didn't deter me from making my way partially up Mt. Holdsworth along the Tararua Range. I couldn't pass up the chance to get a glimpse across the countryside. Unfortunately, all I ended up with was a view of the mist amongst the trees. Beautiful, nonetheless.

Saturday night brought in the cold Southerly winds, making Sunday one of the coldest I've had in New Zealand to date, topping -2 degrees Celsius on the chart. I decided to head over to Martinborough for a late morning brunch and a tour of some of the vineyards. Realistically, I couldn't leave the area without stopping at at least one or two. Martinborough is one of the three major wine growing areas of the country. Hawke's Bay and Marlborough, by far the most famous, being the other two. This short tasting tour sent my tastebuds a flutter. It bodes well for my more extended winery tour at the end of September when my friend comes to visit.

As I drove home that night, watching the sun set over the Tararua Range, I realized that although I miss my friends and family terribly at times, I really am fortunate to be able to experience this country and all it's friendly culture and breathtaking landscape. God save the Queen!