Djibouti onto Dubai

The valleys of North Kenya

I’ve spent the last few days at AMREF flying around over the desert of the horn of Africa and into the Middle East. A chap working in the tiny but strategically significant country of Djibouti had suffered an MI, been thrombolysed (given ‘clot-busters’) and needed medevac to Dubai. This was going to require an overnight stay in Dubai so I selflessly volunteered. Soon we were tearing across the sky in our very cool Cessna citation Bravo Jet approaching Djibouti. On the way I was informed that Djibouti has, in its interior, one of the hottest places on the planet. And not 'hot' in a hip and groovy kind of way, more of a 'leave an egg out for

The coastal city of Djibouti

10 mins and it’ll be hard boiled' kind of way. As I stepped out the plane I believed it. It was certainly around 45.

Djibouti has an intimidating US military presence with all sorts of impressive hardware lining the runway. I thought best not to put a load of photos of it up here. I’ve already been arrested by the Egyptian military for taking photos (accidentally) of a military installation and it is not an experience I wish to repeat. (It’s a long embarrassing story.)

Downtown Djibouti

Anyway the US have obviously invested heavily in combating 

the scourge of Somalian pirates along the coast of the horn of Africa. I was lucky enough to watch a few of their fighter jets take off. I stood next to a massive American soldier with a ridiculous trucker style moustache as these planes roared into the sky and I exclaimed “Yeehaw Jester’s dead!” (a very famous victory call from Top Gun – if you don’t know that, be ashamed) which was greeted by a slow head turn in my direction, an expressionless stare from behind mirrored shades then a slow head turn back towards the planes. I decided I would shut up and go sort out the patient.

Expecting a stable patient I was surprised as the ambulance doors opened and I saw the poor chap looking dreadful. He was gasping, sweaty and pale. Fortunately it was just because they had just had a problem with the air conditioning so he was just being cooked alive. He was actually fine, just a little toasty. So we popped him in the jet, cooled him off and blasted off north into the Middle East.

The lush hills and towering cumulus congestus clouds of East Africa had been left long behind us. The ripples of

dunes spread out below us with occasional lines of low small cumulus humilis following each other across the sand. A sand storm far below soon obscured everything from view and eventually merged with the dust that frequently blankets the wealthy city of Dubai. Visibility was poor and the new Al Maktoum airport of Dubai was far too far away to see its formidable spiked skyline. I had been looking forward to seeing the Burj Khalifa building from the sky.

Notes about Dubai,

“We have delivered the patient to a private hospital in the middle of Dubai. I’ve never seen so many expensive cars on our way into the city. This hospital’s lobby and reception is more like a five star hotel!”

The emergency department was quiet, spacious, immaculate and well-staffed. Within minutes of our arrival a full clinical team with two nurses, an emergency doctor and soon after, a cardiology consultant, came to take our handover. Apparently they are always on the lookout for Emergency Physicians (isn’t everyone?) and offering very handsome payscales. The region's attendances at Emergency Departments is rising and the escalating burden of obesity, diabetes, hypertension and inactivity is thought to be to blame.

My Somalian friend (I will explain about my new house mates in my next update) explained to me: -

“It is Arabic culture. If you have money then you eat all day, you don’t move, you grow fat. If you see a skinny rich man, everyone will think he is a miser.”

 I remember my time dealing with the children from rich Arabic families when I worked in Paddington and it really does seem to be an issue. Especially among the young lads. Take a wander around Harrods and you will see what I mean.

 “I wonder, would I take a job in the wealthy spacious hospitals of Dubai in the middle of the desert? I doubt you could pay me enough to work at the beckoned call of a load of demanding millionaires who take no interest or responsibility for their own health.”

But maybe I got the wrong end of the stick.