Eduvacation

Well, I finally went on my first eduvacation. What’s an eduvacation you ask? Simply put, it’s a vacation…plus education! The way it typically works is you spend 4 or 5 days in a warm and/or beautiful place, listen to lectures in the morning, and have free time to sit on the beach or at the pool or for exploring in the afternoon. So, you get a little break from work and life and, at the same time, you learn some new stuff about your field.
In my case, I spent last week in Cabo, Mexico right on the tip of the Baja peninsula for an OB conference at an all inclusive resort. Lecture topics ranged from preeclampsia, to primary c section to bipolar disorder in pregnancy.

I had never been to an all inclusive resort before this trip and now, I’m not sure if I would ever go back to one. In the weeks before I went, I had fantasies about all the delicious Mexican food I would eat. I imagined strong, shirtless Mexican men delivering chips and guacamole to my palapa on the white sandy beach. I imagined genius lecturers, my Spanish skills becoming Spanish skillz. I imagined breaking hearts, learning salsa, and getting a nice, even, bring-on-the-winter suntan.

Turns out, this particular eduvacation is a way people can say they are in Mexico (your passport gets stamped, you gotta go through customs, it’s ridiculously hot) but not feel as if they are actually in Mexico. The whole time I had to keep reminding myself that I was in another country. Some days, only the pesos in my wallet and my roaming cell phone service kept me aware of this. It was sort of like I was in Florida with a lot of Mexicans walking around and all speaking English. The brochure promised Mexican food. I ate Mexican food once. The literature about the hotel boasted 6 or 8 restaurants with all different kinds of cuisines but once we got there it was clear that only one or two restaurants were open at a time and it was usually a buffet. The brochure also promised beautiful sandy beaches along the lovely Sea of Cortez. However, though I was only 20 yards from the ocean, I was never able to actually go into the water because the rip tides were too dangerous. By the middle of the first day I started thinking that an all inclusive resort is equal parts nursing home and spring break in Ft Lauderdale.

Day 1 included lectures on GDM, IUGR and hemorrhage. It was nice to be in that environment again. Learning about the latest evidence based practices, taking notes, sitting cross-legged on my chair, whispering to my friend sitting next to me, seeing just how many bottles of water we could pound down, circling all the typos in the power points. (Someone actually put “strait A student” in their presentation.) It was fun.
In the afternoon we plopped ourselves down at what was apparently the activities pool. Within seconds of sitting down, an all-pool Mexican bingo game started and, after that, tequila volleyball in the pool-I did not participate in the latter. Though I was not in a palapa on the beach, I was handed a delicious strawberry margarita and I ordered multiple glasses of agua at the swim up bar. But there were no chips and guacamole in site.
The first day also included a hotel-wide “Mexican” fiesta at night. We witnessed staff setting up the stage and multiple food booths all day and when we finally arrived at dinnertime there was an unlimited supply of tamales, tacos, grilled meat and of course, alcohol. The tamales were great. The tacos and empandadas were sub par. But the “activities” were just sad. Unlucky volunteers were brought on stage to gargle water while singing La Cucaracha. A photographer came to each table donning you with a sombrero and then selling you a framed photograph of everyone at your table wearing the hat and sticking their chests out. The same guy who ran tequila volleyball, Alberto, visited each table, pouring everyone a shot of, yes, you got it tequila, and making people scream “arriba, arriba” and “coochie coochie”. Our table gave Alberto the evil eye and we all took a walk on the beach.
Tired and still let lagged, I watched a little David Letterman on American Network TV and fell into a deep sleep.

On day 2, the lectures included PROM, stillbirth and preconception care. In the afternoon the decision was made to switch home base to the kidney shaped “adult pool”. I read, I relaxed, I snooped into the beach hut where they give massages, I had a sickeningly sweet “iced tea” and some water to wash it down. The only real unfortunate outcome of that afternoon was my sunburned left armpit, tender to the touch because I didn’t spread on my sunscreen evenly.
Before dinner, my friends and I decided to go horseback riding on the beach. I had only been once before and this experience was pretty similar to my first. Super fun. Super out of control galloping. Holding onto the reigns for dear life and screaming to the riders ahead, “Coming up fast!” each time our tour guide whipped the butt of my horse.
My sister did a lot of horseback riding when she was little. Like, jumping and winning awards and being fearless horseback riding. While I was sitting on my Mexican horse I couldn’t stop thinking of her and how, when she was a teenager and I was still in elementary school she used to let me wrap a string around her waist and walk behind her around the house as I periodically yelled out commands to her as if she was my horse and I was the jockey. I’d say, walk! And she’d leisurely walk into the living room with me trailing behind. I’d say trot! And she’d start a light jog into the foyer. I’d yell: Gallop! And she’d start skipping around the kitchen. Then I’d yell: Cantor! And she’d let out a big neigh and take off running wildly around the 1st floor with me running behind her pulling tightly on her reigns and laughing hysterically.

On day 3, we had the morning off for either sleeping in and relaxing or joining in on one of the organized trips that the conference was offering. We chose to spend the morning snorkeling. This included a drive through the city of Cabo San Lucas, a lovely boat ride full of music and dancing and helping the captain drive and, of course, snorkeling. After a 15 minute swim to the coral reef which we were instructed to head towards, I was enveloped by fish of all shapes and sizes. What seemed like thousands of tiny little minnows encircled me, long eel like fish waved along the bottom, colorful flat fish fluttered against my legs. I was surrounded by them. And then, I realized, I was also surrounded by people. Since our arrival, no less than 4 other tour boats had pulled up and let out a bunch of other snorkelers. At some point I pulled my head out of the water and saw at least 60 or 70 other white people in that dead man’s float position with their little plastic breathing tubes sticking out of the water. It was a little too much for me so I swam back to the boat. As for our promised lunch time Mexican buffet? Nope! Hot dogs and hamburgers complete with Kettle Chips and, I will admit, the most delicious dill pickles.

The afternoon lectures included controversies in elective c section, preeclampsia and poly/oligo hydramnios. There was no question that the MFM who was also a DO was the absolute best speaker of the bunch. Much of the stuff she talked about wouldn’t necessarily be things I would directly manage but it didn’t matter. It was a pleasure to listen and learn and to tell her that I thought she was great afterwards.
Before dinner, everyone in the conference was given the opportunity to release baby sea turtles into that wild ocean. These little guys had been buried in the sand until they hatched and we were supposed to simulate their “run” into the water where they would then grow up and proliferate. That is, if they weren’t eaten first. An obscene amount of them die. My little turtle, I named him “Tortuga”, was covered in sand when he was handed to me and he seemed to have some motivation problems despite my coaching. Though slow and steady might win the race I can’t help but be somewhat pessimistic about his future. He did eventually make it into the water but not until someone picked him up, placed him on the wet sand and waited for a wave to pull him away.

The last day included lectures on twin deliveries, GBS and DS screening. It was an unhappy realization that in all 4 days the one CNM speaker only talked about things like mood disorders and smoking cessation. Why can’t we, as midwives, be responsible for the more science based lectures too? Now, I will not deny that my scientific education is, well, at its best, foggy. But, that doesn’t mean we can’t become experts in ANY part of OBGYN. It doesn’t mean we always have to be seen as this weirdo touchy feely part of the OB world and I can’t help but think this way of organizing the lecture topics only serves to perpetuate the unjust hierarchy among doctors and midwives.
It was boiling hot in the afternoon but we took a sweaty walk into town, bought some shit and marveled at how many Rx meds you could buy OTC here. I almost bought a few doses of diflucan and cipro, you know, just in case, but then, I only had 20 pesos left…

So, all in all, let’s see…
• Thumbs up on the lectures, but thumbs down on the fact that CNMs always seem to be pigeon holed into talking about emotions and nutrition and not the science of obstetrics.
• Thumbs up on the American Network but thumbs down on the lack of Mexican food.
• Thumbs up on being called Sarita for a week but thumbs down on Alberto our activities director.
• Thumbs up on the DO who gave a great lecture on preeclampsia but thumbs down on the 3 female MDs who were aggressively defending primary elective section
• Thumbs up on riding horses but thumbs down on tequila volley ball
• Thumbs down: All inclusive resort?? Thumbs up: eco tourism??

So, I think I would actually go on an eduvacation again. I’m just not sure I’d go to this particular all inclusive resort. Prior to going, I couldn’t stop talking about the idea of never-ending amounts of etoh but once I got there, I remembered, I’m not much of a drinker. In fact, I was more excited about the oversized bottle of water they left in our room each afternoon than the bottomless cup of Bacardi being offered 24 hours a day.

When I got back to the states, I called my father to let him know that I had arrived home safely. “Well,” he said half listening, “Back to the grind, huh?” Perhaps it was an overreaction but I took offense at his cynicism. Maybe I was still jet lagged, maybe I was even a little sad that I had to go back to work the very next day. But I’m hoping that even these few days away, regardless of how many thumbs up or thumbs down I gave the trip, will serve to soften the edges of my reality at least for a while. And when it wears off, I’ll just have to start planning for another.