Reflection on Formation

I wrote this reflection on the Formation Program for the Mission Doctors newsletter and wanted to share it here too... 

Today is the last week of Formation.  My class is being commissioned on Sunday, and then we disperse, back to home and family for a few weeks before starting our missions in Cameroon.  But it wasn’t until now that I finally started to realize what I have gotten myself into.

When I first contacted MDA, and came to the discernment weekend, I was planning on practicing medicine long-term in some remote part of Africa.  I was trying to find the right group to go with, as heading to Africa alone, as a single woman with virtually no experience, didn’t seem like a smart idea.  What I was really looking for was a facilitator for my dream - I already knew what I was going to do in Africa, I just needed someone to get me there.

Enter MDA.  I was impressed by what I saw during discernment, and later at the MDA board meeting.  Many members of the board were veterans, who loved the experience they had so much that they wanted to continue on in another capacity.  The organization ran smoothly, everyone got along, and they had plenty of experience.  They would be good facilitators for my dream.

Formation started 4 months ago.  I joined four other lay missionaries, shared the same house and the same meals, and had classes with them every day.  This was definitely more difficult than I had anticipated - I had been living on my own for five and a half years prior to formation, and I was not used to changing my habits for others.   The classes, while interesting, were frustratingly lacking in medical instruction.  I wanted to learn how to treat cerebral malaria, and how to make rounds in a hospital with 200 beds, 5 physicians, and no EHR.  I wanted to learn everything I could about practicing medicine in a resource-limited, rural hospital, but instead, I was learning how to interact with other cultures and people, how to acknowledge and validate my own culture and emotions without imposing them on others, and how to incorporate God and prayer into my daily life, and to make it a part of me, rather than just something that is done at Mass.  This was all well and good, but how would it help me to treat the child with severe malnutrition, or the pregnant woman with HIV?

Gradually, I became aware that my mission was not going to be to practice medicine in Njinikom, Cameroon - that would be a part, for sure - but that my mission is to go to Njinikom, meet people, form relationships, learn the culture, and let them change me.  The medicine, while important, is secondary.  As Elise would tell me, my gift to them is myself, not my medical knowledge.