| Chapter 1 |
| Dr. Carter picked up his large, black duffle bag out of the back of the Red Cross van and turned to locate the nearest door. He heard the van door slam and the vehicle rattle away behind him, leaving him in a cloud of dust. He plunged his hand into his pant pocket, nervously jingling some loose change as he walked across the dry dirt road and entered through a ragged, unfinished wooden door marked with a painted red cross. Inside, he was reminded of the ER back in Chicago...except for the fact that there weren�t any familiar faces, and he was completely lost in the conversations taking place between the medical staff and the patients. Gamma had always urged John to take French courses in school, but in his entire lifetime, this was the first time that he wished he had taken her recommendation. As he waited in front of the doorway, hoping that somebody would come to his rescue, he desperately searched within himself for the reason that made him decide to leave his home in Chicago to come to Africa. Of course, he knew that he wanted to help people, but he did that back at County General. Was it all of Dr. Kovac�s stories of the people who urgently needed a doctor�s attention? He felt so out of place. He didn�t know how he would be able to make a difference in somebody�s life, if he couldn�t understand a word they were saying. He could already see his future as a doctor in this country: following a translator around like a lost puppy, communicating through somebody else at all times. Connecting with patients was the major reason Carter had decided to give up a career as a surgeon, and become an Emergency Room doctor. Although he knew that the Congo was a French-speaking country prior to his decision to leave the United States, the impact of not being able to communicate with his patients was just starting to sink in. Before he could remember what brought him to this unfamiliar place, a woman dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, covered by a lab coat brought him from his daze. �Dr. Carter?� She nudged his shoulder. �Yeah, that�s me.� He answered, turning his focus away from the crowded room, and toward the woman. Although she was covered in sweat and dust from the days work, she still was quite beautiful. Her brunette, auburn hair was up in a short ponytail, which drew attention to her pretty face. She wore no makeup, however she held a sort of natural beauty that many women envied. As he shook her small, but strong hand he felt a sudden calm come over him. He was no longer worried about the time ahead of him. She had a welcoming presence. �Good, it�ll be nice to have some extra help around here. Follow me. I�ll drop you off at the doctors� quarters and I�ll show you around.� He followed her out the door and back into the dirt road. They turned to head around toward the back of the clinic. It was a very short distance, but the young woman made several stops along the way to give medical assistance to the African patients in French. As they finally continued walking once again, Carter tried to make small talk. �Your English is very good.� �Thank you Dr. Carter. When you are born in the United States, you have a pretty major opportunity to learn English.� She smirked sarcastically, laughing at his statement. �I�m sorry...� Carter blushed, �...I just assumed, because of your French.� He was completely embarrassed that he had been so quick to make a dumb judgment, but at the same time, making her laugh was entirely worth his embarrassment. �It�s okay, don�t worry about it. It was funny. I�m American, but I�ve spent a lot of time here.� She said leading the way into another building, �This is the doctors� quarters. The nurses stay through that door. The bathroom is over there; we don�t get hot water though. Make sure your mosquito net is all the way over your bed before you go to sleep or you�ll get eaten alive. Go ahead and get settled, and find nurse Mona in the main building when you�re ready. She�ll get you started. I�m Dr. Kelly, so if you need anything you can come find me. Welcome to the Congo Doctor Carter.� |