JMAP 2022 - Goodbyes Are Never Easy
“Dr Tamir…” I felt a warm hand on my left shoulder. “We are going to miss you.”
Dr Bassam’s genuinely heartfelt adieu, as we departed the bus, will stick with me for a long time. Dr Bassam - the Jordan Medical Aid for Palestinians (JMAP) general practitioner for the Jerash/Gaza refugee camp - embraced me as part of the team from the very beginning of my journey with JMAP. He enjoyed squeezing out of me all manner of topics for debate during our bus trips to and from the Jerash/Gaza camp, no matter how exhausted and sleep deprived I seemed. I enjoyed trying to run rings around him with small print rheumatology facts - he always seemed to have a response; usually a demonstration of his vast wealth of clinical knowledge and experience. Our discussions were engaging and, at times, hilariously light-hearted. It wasn’t until yesterday, my final day at the Jerash/Gaza camp, that I learned from one of the JMAP orthopaedic surgeons that I had been unknowingly occupying Dr Bassam’s usual seat on the bus - next to our heroic driver Uday. In typical Dr Bassam style, there was never even an utterance of displeasure; always encouragement and generosity. I will certainly miss him.
Derelict graveyard.
Situated on the hilltop of the Jerash/Gaza refugee camp.
Neighbouring the JMAP clinic.
A constant reminder of our mortal selves.
A homely surprise.
Hiteen/Schneller clinic.
This toilet, normally under lock and key, is exclusively used by kitchen and cleaning staff.
They insisted I took my comfort breaks here today!
No amount of practice prepares you for emotional goodbyes and farewells. I recently exchanged meaningful goodbyes with former colleagues at the Royal Berkshire Hospital, Wexham Park Hospital, Nuffield Orthopaedic Centre in Oxford and Stoke Mandeville Hospital, marking the end of my many years of specialisation and the beginning of my consultantship at the Royal Free Hospital in London - a significant point in my career. Yet, to exchange the depth of appreciation and feelings with all of my new-found JMAP colleagues - doctors, nurses, radiographers, laboratory technicians, managers, drivers, cleaners, reception staff - as I depart after just over two weeks of working together, was both unexpected and immensely touching. One thing I’ve learned about goodbyes over the years, having moved from one rotation to another, is this: they have the potential to truly resonate and remain etched in one’s mind. The thank you cards, the small gifts, the final cherishing words in the office - they create a lasting and positive impression. They reflect the value one person, or group, holds for another.
Over the last couple of days, I received warm expressions of gratitude from Zikriat (our strong leader at the Talbieh clinic), Amal (our decisive and empathetic figurehead at the Jerash/Gaza clinic), and both Maha and Dr Zahira (JMAP Executive Director and Deputy Medical/Technical Director, respectively) who payed me a delightful surprise visit during today’s Hiteen/Schneller clinic. Not to mention Yaseen - our multitalented chef and clinic manager - who once again showcased his gift as a leader and role model at the end today’s clinic, my final clinic of this trip. Having finished my 50th consultation of the day (a personal record!), Yaseen called through to his office both myself and Dr Mohammed - Hiteen/Schneller’s general practitioner who, at the time, was excitedly and proudly showing me a picture of his 13-day old baby boy. Yaseen reached out to shake my hand and began: “Tamir, forget the heartfelt words from our staff, forget the compliments from our patients, forget the many lives you have touched…” still firmly gripping my hand without breaking eye contact, “…it is your parents who you must thank for raising you to be who you are and for instilling the courage it requires to endeavour upon this humanitarian journey.” He finally released my hand, yet the tension still gripped the atmosphere within the room - sensing Dr Mohammed’s attention had swiftly shifted away from pictures of his newborn - I jokingly responded: “if only you knew my mischievous side, you wouldn’t be quite so full of praise for my parents!” We all burst into paroxysms of laughter. It really was a great moment on which to end the day.
Citadel Hill.
To Amman what Primrose Hill is to London.
A meditative view.
This is an Assault Bike.
In case you didn’t already know.
If you enjoy pain then this is just the thing for you.
I had my 6th and final session with Coach Hannah last night.
My CrossFit journey will continue.
