Every now and then I feel the twinge of the old soccer
injury. When I was in Kenya a few years
ago, I was invited to play soccer with some of the other IU folks and our local
Kenyan friends. Despite the fact that it
was only my 2nd day in the country, I was in no way acclimated to
the elevation, and I hadn’t played in an actual game of soccer in about a
decade, I decided to tag along. Of
course I use the word “play” in the most general sense possible. My presence on the pitch was tolerated by my
teammates (thankfully we had the sense to mix both teams Kenyans-Mzungus) and I
even occasionally got to put my foot on the ball. Mostly I ran up and down the field while
watching a very competitive and exciting game of Kenyan soccer.
Despite the fun that was had, I was horrified to realize
the next morning that I literally could not get out of bed. The combination of 90 minutes of running,
repeatedly kicking a soccer ball for the first time in 10 years, and a healthy
dose of altitude sickness had led to what I later learned was a partial tear in
my left hip flexor. Needless to say,
this put a damper not only on my day, but on the rest of my time in Kenya. Given that my daily routine involved a 15
minute walk to the hospital in the morning, standing for rounds for 3-4 hours,
and at least one more 15 minute walk back to IU House during the day, I found
just getting around to be quite challenging, especially in the initial
weeks. With some assistance (ie driving)
from the team leaders and time and rest, I was able to deal with the injury fairly
well for the rest of the 2 months. After
returning home, I consulted with an orthopedic surgeon and took on some PT, the
result of which was my hip returning to almost 100% within a few months.
Still though, I do occasionally feel the remnants of that
injury. Whether it’s after a long day on
my feet, a lengthy bike ride, or 30 minutes before a thunderstorm (because I am
internally 80 years old), the old familiar pang in my left hip reminds me of
that Kenyan soccer game from years ago. Chances are, I will experience the
not-so-pleasant reminder of my overexertion for the rest of my life. But, that’s ok. Because what it really reminds me of is a
rainy Kenyan afternoon spent having fun with friends new and old. It reminds me of the power of sports and
teamwork to break down even the most tenacious of cultural barriers. It reminds me of a chance I took to Be Bold.
In the U.S., if I was ever invited to play a competitive
sport with a group of strangers far above my ability level, I would decline
without a second thought. In Kenya, in
that moment though, things were different – I was different. Just the process of travelling literally halfway
across the world, of committing to work in a strange system, taking care of
patients with whom I could not communicate with diseases I had only read about
in textbooks – that one step was enough for me to transform. My natural tendency is to be a “no” person,
but my entire experience in Kenya, including the soccer game, was predicated on
my answer being “yes.” Yes to new
challenges, new experiences, and new friendships that I would never have been
amenable to had I been in my familiar environment. What I discovered during both of my visits to
Kenya, after weeks of saying yes and boldly facing new experiences, was a more
authentic version of myself. I’m sure it
sounds strange (and I’m not sure that I can completely explain it), but my
experiences working in Kenya were such intense journeys of personal growth and
discovery, that both times I left, I felt as though I were leaving my true self
behind. I know this sounds like a deep
and possibly over-thought epiphany to arrive at after only a soccer game, but
this gets at the heart of my passion for Global Health in general and Kenya
specifically – it is simply where I discovered my fundamental calling to
medicine.
I have recently transitioned to my first “big girl” (ie
post-residency) job, and in the last few months I have had the luxury of time
to contemplate what is next. For the
first time, pretty much in my life, there is no defined or prescribed next
step. I could spend the rest of my
professional career working in my current job, or I could elect to move on in a
year or two. I am the one who decides
what is next.
This is both an exhilarating and a terrifying prospect. In my moments of solitude contemplating what I want my career as a pediatrician to look like, my mental wanderings inevitably circle back to Global Health. Exhilarating because I know, deep down, that is where my true calling lies. Terrifying because I have inklings of what it will entail – more years in training, moving away from Indiana for a fellowship, uprooting my family, living abroad, sacrifices…but I also circle back to the Kenyan soccer game, my inner boldness, and my authentic self. It is my hope and goal in moving forward in this next phase of my life, to continue to go forward with bravery. I want to dream big dreams, act with courage, and possess the daring to pursue new challenges – including any and all soccer games along the way.
