This is part 2 of my conversation with Mason McDowell, DNAP, CRNA. In 2014, he, along with his wife and 2 young daughters, sold everything they owned and moved full time to the heart of Africa… to the town of Beré in the nation of Chad, to provide anesthesia services at hospital with severe resource limitations.   Dr McDowell was a professor of mine and the assistant program director at Western Carolina University when he made the decision to move to Chad.  I remember him preparing and talking about the why behind his decision and watching that process unfold was incredibly powerful.  In part one of our conversation (episode 61), Mason talks about the decision to go to Chad, what he and his family did there and why they had to evacuate the country emergently and return to the United States. In this episode, Mason shares advice for those who wish to travel and provide anesthesia for underdeveloped, impoverished and/or remote communities. The stories Mason shares in this 2-part series are remarkable but they only scratch the surface of his time in Chad.  I’ll link to his blog at whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com in the show notes where you can read about the day-to-day, night-to-night tales from providing anesthesia and general medical services in Chad.  THOSE stories are heart wrenching.  There we innumerable times when Mason and his team had to make decisions based on the severe resource limitation that we simply would never have to make here in the United States.  I’d like to share one of Mason’s stories with you here: 4-3-2-1 8 Dec 2014, Bere, Chad by Mason McDowell, DNAP, CRNA I was called out of our morning meeting at the hospital around 730am with the wave of a hand. I knew what it was even before I asked for confirmation: Bébé? Oui.  A mother had just delivered twins but baby #2 wasn’t breathing. I gave oxygen, breathed for him with an ambu bag and tried to keep him warm. Danae (the OB/GYN) lifted her scrub shirt to press baby against her skin to warm him as I continued to hand ventilate. Eventually he was breathing on his own and was sent to our “NICU”– that’s the neonatal intensive care unit; except in Chad it means he is getting oxygen while he rests in a tiny cardboard box in our OR with 2 hot water bottles tucked beside him. Guess what? He’s still alive tonight! Flash forward to around 8pm when our volunteers arrived from the US. They were only here 10 minutes before an urgent phone call: maternity…a mom turned quickly…send Mason now! I threw on scrubs and my friend Shawn (also an anesthetist) hurried along behind me.  We arrived to find a seemingly dead looking pregnant woman laying on the floor and frothing at the mouth. We moved her quickly down the sidewalk to the OR and began CPR. Chest compressions, oxygen/ventilation, IV epinephrine…Nothing. Now thats a terrible situation–lifeless and pregnant. I told Danae “she’s dead-dead …get the baby out”.  I barely finished the sentence before Danae cut down and retrieved a baby girl. Good pulse but not breathing. After an extended period of manual ventilation and stimulation the baby perked up and breathed on her own! The unmistakeable scent of Arabic perfume lingered in the air as it radiated from the cloth I used to wrap the baby in. The fabric had been part of her mothers clothing. Blood covered the OR table, floor, and the surgeon. We cleaned up the baby’s mother and brought in the family for a final viewing. Tears and prayer filled the OR. The family left to find a truck to carry the body away and I walked home alone under a brilli...