#InTheEyesOfMC: Turbulent Guts, Sphincters & Pseudo-Debriefs

I should probably stop saying see you in two weeks because each time I do, I get a rumbling mid-week to continue the #InTheEyesOfMC rambles (not this week I've interchanged to rambles cause of the nature of the post)

As Kenyans say whenever one travels, "Utarudi Tu" (You'll come back eventually) and coming back home eventually I did to oven-like Nairobi weather compared to the fridge-level temperatures of Geneva (May the record show, I prefer the cold weather...)

Anyway, this week's article surrounds colic, the one time I opted for a day departure flight (I am a nocturnal traveller) and an aisle seat (I usually change to a window seat regardless of seat allocation) and my previous article on matters of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI). Literally turbulent guts in each perspective

So first up, what is colic? Colic is frequent, prolonged and intense crying or fussiness in a healthy infant ( Mayo Clinic definition). Possible contributing factors of this culprit include:

• A digestive system that isn't fully developed*
• Imbalance of healthy bacteria in the digestive tract
• Food allergies or intolerances
• Overfeeding, underfeeding or infrequent burping*
• Family stress or anxiety*

*Note the factors with a star as they are coming into play

The primary goal of treatment is to soothe the child as much as possible in a variety of ways (e.g. walking around with or rocking your baby*, rubbing your infant's tummy* or placing your baby on the tummy for a back rub, swaddling your baby in a blanket and ensure that parents have the support* they need to cope (as per Mayo Clinic) (*Again note the factors with a star as they are coming into play)

Once Upon a Time, there was a tired (possibly adventurous) MC

Following the intense two weeks at the WHO EB 152 at a personal and professional level, it was no surprise that my airport departure was more of a surprise than a plan with me absent-mindedly packing my bags, including this particular device in my hand (A Swiss Knife)

Long story short, I had a long check-in in a fight against time to save this gadget which had a personal historical reference for me, and an already cranky MC got even crankier (this is why I like night flights, you just go and sleep) (the gadget was saved... sort off)

Anyway, in the middle of my check-in hustles, I treated myself to the biggest cup of Swiss Hot Chocolate. Unfortunately, this self-care measure came back to haunt me about 70 minutes into my connecting flight where due to the weather gods of turbulence, I was in need of the restroom. Seeing my newfound position on row two, middle column, aisle of the plane, I saw my 5 steps to the nearest restroom as manageable given that people were walking in and out at the same time (it seems we were the unlucky, unprepared few who boarded the plane with full tanks)

Now two things worked against me as I stood to do my James Bond walk to sphincter freedom.

1. The senior passer standing 3 rows behind me did not see there was a vacant restroom
2. Unfortunately, the people who walked in before me did not look like me and spoke French

So within seconds of my bladder rescue mission, I was loudly commanded in French to seat down. Looking at the Senior Passer cluelessly, she translated her safety advice, which I obliged until the seat belt sign went off 90 seconds later (with one person successfully managing to rescue his bladder in between).

This sparked a conversation with my middle seat mate, code name Electrical Engineer-Santa Claus kindly answered in his little English, maybe the passer did not see the free facility, to which I agreed disgruntledly, then remembered my article on mirrors and reflections and went back to whatever I was doing as I waited for the meal to be served (and saw a mother joyfully feeding her infant as her older son (about 3 years old) slept his merry self away

The Magic Trifecta: Kōlika... Coliques, Colic

*Translations courtesy of Google Translate

One hour later (meals were eaten during this period & turbulence resumed), the infant seemed to be now joining MC's former predicament now of sphincters in need of freedom (pun intended) courtesy of a combination of turbulence and food digestion i.e. colic; with the mother trying her best to soothe the baby, still, look at the 3-year-old half asleep and maintain her balance.

This was compounded by the Senior Passer coming to assist and my opposite aisle mate, a gentleman I will code name Electrical Engineer Christmas Elf echoing that the passer should do more to help the mother and baby and code name Electrical Engineer Santa Claus, trying to calm down his colleague, led to a loud front two rows where an already cranky MC could hear the argument over her music and book and quickly interjected in the middle of the argument, "The baby is uncomfortable just like all of us with the turbulence and its stomach is not grown so all it can do is cry until the gas comes out" (and maybe at one point, I flashed back on the times I tackled colic at the paediatrics clinic when I was in clinical practice)

Of course, I was asked about my qualifications by one of the Electrical Engineers and I repeated my sentence (which clearly the mother didn't understand, as all this time, she was talking French to the only other French Speaker in the discussion, the Senior Passer). Then at one point, in our communication hurricane, we all said colic in our various languages and each person calmed down & resumed their own business. (The Senior Passer crossed over to my aisle briefly then disappeared)

I took the chance to introduce myself to break the ice to the Santa Claus and Christmas Elf (this is when I learnt they were Electrical Engineers). Christmas Elf disclosed he was married to a doctor and they equally had an infant, but they were unable to travel with him due to logistical constraints (read visa). I commented that his concern was human and was possibly him saying what he would have done if he travelled with the family and reassured him he was left with 1.2 flights back and we changed the discussion to how many hours each of us have left to get home. Meanwhile, Santa Claus asked how many medical schools were in Kenya and I jokingly told him barely two handfuls, he laughed and said that is so few and I told him I only know of Punjab Medical College in his country courtesy of a good friend from IFMSA ( Mehr M. Adeel Riaz, MBBS )

About 90 minutes later, we landed and our nice "hooligans" row moved to the front row and helped the mother pack up (mainly Christmas Elf) and asked her where she was off to next and she mentioned an Asian country and similar hours of travel with Santa Claus and Christmas Elf and we all smiled and went our own ways with me going to look for my selfie with the Adidas Al Rihla dummy as I had time before my next flight (as any true football fan would)

I also made sure there was no need for bladder or other sphincter rescues for my final flight home ??