Michael’s Last Day

The 15 foot Inukshuk quietly stands guard over the town since 1991

 Have you ever gone somewhere and recognized a face, tried to put a name or place to that face…and failed? Then later, when all is calm and quiet…you get that “EUREKA” moment and realize the where, the when, or the who.

Such has been the case these past two weeks. As my time here has lengthened and new introductions have slowed, I have searched my grey cells for snipits of info.  Surprisingly, I’ve had quite a few “eurekas” for several reasons.

I brought a collection of photos with me from my visit here in 2008. The reason being, I wanted to scout around town and record the “then” and “now” differences. On a slow evening, after the blog has been put to bed…I’ve had a chance to relive those memories and have been amazed as to what I do recall. 

My second Saturday, this trip, I was invited to Saturday breakfast at INNS NORTH with a group. We met outside the building, having huddled, then hiked, through the blowing snow that day, to sit and relax. We enjoyed each other’s company and the meal (one without self-preparation for a change). I was able to get an update on the changes occurring in the hamlet, the opening of the mine and what changes had occurred at the KIVALLIQ HEALTH CENTRE.

The Hunter's Special--$21.95 plus Coffee adds $2.95

We had discussed changes in staffing, resources, equipment and personnel…got updates on staff members that I had remembered…those grey cells kicking in again and again. It’s been a bit of a roller coaster ride trying to remember and place the people…they are starting to remember me. Our coffee breaks have been an interesting combination of northern stories…the Inuit and northern culture and events. While the terms I am learning about, my Inuktitut language skills STILL remain poor. Marie smiles when I try to pronounce some of my patient’s names. She is very polite and I wonder to myself what is she really thinking. In true INUK fashion, the listening and thinking occur much more than the speaking.

She has been a great source of information about the culture, the history and food habits of the native people. After hearing these tales, I‘ve decided that some of the delicacies that she describes of “country food” are not for me. Between cases, we’ve had the opportunity to share some stories of our families and lives and experiences, both in the radiography room and outside. I think she knows everyone in town…and they her. She seems well respected by the staff in the building…she is a definite asset, as they would say.

She is one, of but many, that work here. Some of the staff that were here in 2008 have moved off to do other things. Susie, the newly engaged nurse at that time, is now in Iqaluit, working in community health with a couple of kids. There are others who are working in other government agencies and offices in town. Then this week, while being called back into the health center one evening, I met Michael.

Michael works the ambulance in town. Not sure if he’s a volunteer with the fire service or an employee. He and his female co-worker had just arrived from the airport, providing transport from there to the health centre for a recently arrived “medevac transfer” from one of our outlying communities. This is common here. What we can’t handle gets air shipped to Winnipeg. What other communities can’t handle gets shipped to us. The people, providing this service, are important and a necessary component in the delivery of health care to the entire KIVALLIQ region of Nunavut.

The heated and enclosed ambulance bay

Michael and his partner had been busy and the night was still young…he was frustrated and needed to vent. I listened…asked a couple of questions and then reinforced his importance to the community as we discussed some of the cases, situations and events he had seen in his many years working the “bus”. He told me that he was going to resign on Friday…that he was “fed up” and the frustration poured forth. He was tired of dealing with the shootings, assaults, drunks, car and snow machine accidents and all manner of things that emergency services entail…more so, probably, in these smaller hamlets.

I told him that he was needed…who would fulfill his job…and agreed that we all have times where we want to “pack it in”...but then “what would we do?”…and, more important in a tightly knit community, “who” would take over? I told him not to be rash in his decision...to really seriously think about it…and hopefully we would be able to talk again in the next few days.

What I didn’t tell MICHAEL…was that he looked familiar and I tried to remember where and when I had seen him in 2008. It took the better part of a day or more...and then I remembered.  He had been part of the ambulance team that had rushed in a patient after school, one weekday around 4:30 in the afternoon. Try as we might, the medical team was unsuccessful in the teen’s resuscitation and he died. The hanging had been a success…another tragedy that this community was about to endure. I didn’t tell Michael that he was also one of the drivers that took the young lad in his coffin to the church. (The ambulance also served as a hearse when necessary, back in those days).

In 2008, I didn’t attend the teenager’s funeral that Saturday at the larger of the two churches in town (we now have three). I didn’t want to seem nosy and instead I wandered around trying to acquaint myself with the village and its layout. I had soon found myself on a small roadway on a hill above town, when I noticed fresh tire tracks in the snow, then lots of footprints. Before me was the town cemetery, an hour after the internment had been completed. No one else was there, just wind and snow. A green cross with his name, Date of Birth, and his D.O.D. marked the fresh grave. I remember the grave completely encircled by small rocks.

A family heading "out" after work on Friday afternoon

Back to the present, I wondered how many times that and similar situations, Michael had experienced since my last visit here to Rankin Inlet. It was then that I understood his concern, frustration, and perhaps, momentary despair. A couple of days later when I saw Michael, I had waved and got the return wave down the hall. When I had completed my task at hand, I wandered down to the ambulance “bay”…where Michael was cleaning the vehicle. I noticed it and complimented him on their shiny new “white cube” that they were now operating and asked him how long had it been here. A couple of years, he responded. I told him it was quite a change from the red painted truck I remembered. It was good to see that positive changes in the infrastructure here were staring to show.

When I mentioned that his “Friday” was coming soon and asked about his “decision”…he smiled and said he had talked it over with his wife…and that he would be staying on. I knew then that this community was still in good hands. It was not yet Michael’s last day!