I must warn my current readership of one (who yes may not return!) that this blog won’t be chronological in form. A wonderful attribute of my ADHD is that my mind jumps from vibrant memory to memory all by itself; for me this often based on random sensory triggers. I’ll try to maintain some level of coherence and cohesion but do forgive me if I go off on a tangent at times!
Zipping back to my clinical placements at uni I was always the one who volunteered for placements that fell out of the city’s boundaries part of this is I blame on my love for driving (at the time a 1.3 litre collapsed out old Ford!) but primarily I loved to experience something my peer group may not be experiencing. This more often than not this led to 1-2 hour plus drives to random clinics in “the middle o nowhere” (often as their first ever SLT student) or residential schools and colleges where I’d end up sleeping over. I guess, on an incredibly small scale, I fed my thirst for adventure.
When considering the countries I’ve worked in the most surreal that springs to mind is a referral that came in over email requesting an “assessment of my daughter who has needs, to be carried out ASAP”. Whilst the details were sparse the apparent urgency spiked my attention, oh and the location: 3 hours outside of Moscow.
Visa: check.
Flights: check (first time travelling business!!).
Hotel: check.
Suitcase packed with more assessments than a typical NHS clinic: check.
Time to fly!
The day before we land I received the following email:
Landing in the darkness at a ‘local’ airbase me and my colleague are whisked through passport control; immigration and find “the man with a Black T-shirt which says Instanbul” and follow him to a tinted Mercedes who’s driver spoke solely Russian. We were dropped off at our hotel after a 2 hour drive and told “be ready for 9.30am” (light had just started to break).
Three hours sleep and ready for Day 1 we were picked up in a different, again tinted, 4×4 and driven for an hour or so down motorways when suddenly the driver took a sharp turn off the road (totally not signposted) and down a dirt path.
As we approached the family home I realise I have had zero contact with the father since leaving the UK and start to panic a little. Thankfully my panic is allayed as we approach a 10 foot high metal gate, the driver beeps, and we are “welcomed” into the complex by 2-3 men with guns longer than my arms. The men motion to our driver to enter and we continue up the narrow pathway lined with high metal fencing and barbed wire until we reach a large detached house. We cautiously open the car doors when the engine is turned off and notice a man and lady exit the house who walk swiftly towards us with open arms. Pleasantries exchanged, our phones are taken off us (after seeing the guns earlier we are awfully compliant and we later learn we can take them back to the hotel each evening), and the first assessment day begins!
To be continued…