Briefly - and more details later when things settle down a little - the birthday week thus far:
Sunday night Cross International arrived to pay us a visit. A group of seven visitors also arrived. In the evening, the torrential rain-season-rains started and soaked our property. We had a little welcome party for everyone and made sure our windows were shut tight against the storm.
Monday morning, I forgot it was my birthday but soon someone remembered and I got a few "Happy Birthdays." In the morning, I worked frantically on some project proposals for a couple of hours and then joined Fr. Marc and Cross International in the early afternoon. The Les Cayes prison packs up to 25 prisoners in small 20x10 foot cells. They have to take turns sleeping. This is far and away, however, better conditions than other Haitian prisons. We went to see their sewing program that Cross funds and Espwa helps implement. Most prisoners there are in for 2-5 years for petty crimes.
After the prison we went to a restaurant to get a fruit juice. Nick noticed there was a cake in the window so we ordered that and all the Cross International guys, Marc, Nick and Tiger say me happy birthday.
Soon, we were back in the car and on the way to visit an agriculture supply store that Cross funds. Who should pull up right along side us, but Haitian presidential hopeful, Pastor Chevan and his 3 security guards. We all stuff into the one room hut that the supply store operates out of and listened to a short presentation by some of the employees there. They were so genuinely grateful to Cross for their support - it was quite touching to see.
Out back on the farm, I talked with the artisans about the work they are doing and pieces that I would like them to do. We hung some nice pieces on the wall and I bought some for the dining room. Soon, evening was upon us and Dino was setting up for a party.
Let's just say that it was one of the best birthday celebrations that I have had since I was little and leave it at that.
Yesterday was a completely different sort of day. One of our best dogs was accidentally killed by one of our drivers, one of the baby cats living in our bathroom died (at its own mother's hand -- paw?) and Fr. Bal who teaches carpentry at Espwa got hit in the eye by a planing stone. We visited him today and, God willing, he will be OK. The doctor saw no immediate danger.
In the morning, my English class went really well. Paige, a visitor here, helped me plan a cool lesson and the kids seemed to listen and to learn!!! Then, Paige, Sarah, another one of the visitors here now, and I learned a dance. Sony, the hip-hop dance instructor, wants us to perform it in tomorrow's Spektak but I do not believe we can or should...
Today has been exciting, too. A medical team - the Athens Medical Team, to be exact - arrived to unload some supplies. When they showed up, they ended up seeing a patient or two and recasting some of our boys who have broken arms. They also decided to leave behind a married doctor-nurse team to help our nurses out. Incredible serendipity. Now we have to work on finding a bigger and better space for our growing medical team.
More later and hopefully more pictures.
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Thursday, February 01, 2007
by the grace of God I live
Last Sunday after lunch, my friend Nick and I took a 40 min journey to the beach at Port Salut, Haiti for a little R&R. We enjoyed the sun and the warm Caribbean Sea and left to go home just before the sun sunk below the mountains. We made it through the mountain passes and the views were breathtaking. From time to time, we chatted over the sound of loud wind blowing past our ears as the motorcycle sped on. On the road below the mountains, as we neared Les Cayes and home, we passed a few small towns where people hung out by the side of the roads watching cock fights and celebrating saints days.
On a long straightaway we saw another motorcyclist pull out slowly on the right. Another man ran to catch up to the slow moving vehicle and tried to hop on the back. The rest happened instantaneously: Nick moved to the left of the road to avoid the slower bike. The slower bike popped a wheely and lost control, veering further and further left. Suddenly, impact.
The noise was metal clashing together and human bodies hitting the ground with force. I remember falling and feeling my head bounce twice as Nick and our bike fell on top of me and the other bike skidded over us and into the ditch. Nick peeled himself off the pavement and pulled the bike off me. I reached for my helmet and frantically tugged it off my head. Nick helped me up and I felt an incredible pain shoot through my whole body. Once we dragged ourselves to the side of the road I lay down and Nick played crowd control while simultaneously trying to call everyone we knew for help. After 30 minutes, some of our friends showed up.
At the first hospital we went to, Haitians lay dying on every bed in the ER and crowds hovered near the entrances. A Cuban doctor felt my body to make sure nothing was broken, glanced at the road burns and cuts covering my legs and arms, asked how I felt. When I rather shrieked that I couldn't see or hear and I was going to throw up, he ordered some drugs be brought from the dispensary and told me to lie down.
A large, frazzled nurse sutured Nick's elbow in the doorframe of the entrance while 40 passersby looked on. A doctor guided me to a hallway by the records room and instructed me to lie down on a dirty, dusty plastic mat, "it's the best we can offer." I set my head on a friends lap and a few moments later, a mouse scuttled past my toes. When I shrieked, a few on-looking women giggled. The man standing outside gazing in at me through the glass door smiled.
After a half hour or more, my friends returned from the dispensary with a syringe, painkiller and an IV. As soon as the nurse had administered the shot and hooked up the IV, I begged my friends to take me out of there. One grabbed me my under my "good" arm, another grabbed the drip bag; nurse “Ratchet” wasn't going to get another rough go at scraping my wounds clean.
Alex, Nick’s roommate, works for the UN and is a trained EMT. He did his best to clean my wounds when we got home. The IV drip ran out, I took some oxycodone and went to bed. The next morning we got a lift from a UN friend to their southern base in Cayes and saw the medical director there. After taking another go at cleaning my wounds, she instructed us to go to Port au Prince to seek further medical help. She said the UN could provide transport there.
So, I had my first ride in a helicopter ride. We traveled with some of our UN friends that we met with at the beach on Sunday afternoon.
After some planes, trains (not really) and automobiles, we arrived at the best hospital in Haiti: Canopé Vert. To make a long story (a 4 day and 3 night story) short, we had an amazing doctor who fixed us up well. Except for Nick, who needed stitches on his elbow, all the wounds were superficial. 
More reflections on the experience and conditions in Haitian medical facilities to come but for now, know that we are fine and will continue our work in Haiti tomorrow, after a five day hiatus. Come next week I’ll be bandage free and ready to rock.
On a long straightaway we saw another motorcyclist pull out slowly on the right. Another man ran to catch up to the slow moving vehicle and tried to hop on the back. The rest happened instantaneously: Nick moved to the left of the road to avoid the slower bike. The slower bike popped a wheely and lost control, veering further and further left. Suddenly, impact.
The noise was metal clashing together and human bodies hitting the ground with force. I remember falling and feeling my head bounce twice as Nick and our bike fell on top of me and the other bike skidded over us and into the ditch. Nick peeled himself off the pavement and pulled the bike off me. I reached for my helmet and frantically tugged it off my head. Nick helped me up and I felt an incredible pain shoot through my whole body. Once we dragged ourselves to the side of the road I lay down and Nick played crowd control while simultaneously trying to call everyone we knew for help. After 30 minutes, some of our friends showed up.
At the first hospital we went to, Haitians lay dying on every bed in the ER and crowds hovered near the entrances. A Cuban doctor felt my body to make sure nothing was broken, glanced at the road burns and cuts covering my legs and arms, asked how I felt. When I rather shrieked that I couldn't see or hear and I was going to throw up, he ordered some drugs be brought from the dispensary and told me to lie down.
A large, frazzled nurse sutured Nick's elbow in the doorframe of the entrance while 40 passersby looked on. A doctor guided me to a hallway by the records room and instructed me to lie down on a dirty, dusty plastic mat, "it's the best we can offer." I set my head on a friends lap and a few moments later, a mouse scuttled past my toes. When I shrieked, a few on-looking women giggled. The man standing outside gazing in at me through the glass door smiled.
After a half hour or more, my friends returned from the dispensary with a syringe, painkiller and an IV. As soon as the nurse had administered the shot and hooked up the IV, I begged my friends to take me out of there. One grabbed me my under my "good" arm, another grabbed the drip bag; nurse “Ratchet” wasn't going to get another rough go at scraping my wounds clean.
Alex, Nick’s roommate, works for the UN and is a trained EMT. He did his best to clean my wounds when we got home. The IV drip ran out, I took some oxycodone and went to bed. The next morning we got a lift from a UN friend to their southern base in Cayes and saw the medical director there. After taking another go at cleaning my wounds, she instructed us to go to Port au Prince to seek further medical help. She said the UN could provide transport there.So, I had my first ride in a helicopter ride. We traveled with some of our UN friends that we met with at the beach on Sunday afternoon.
After some planes, trains (not really) and automobiles, we arrived at the best hospital in Haiti: Canopé Vert. To make a long story (a 4 day and 3 night story) short, we had an amazing doctor who fixed us up well. Except for Nick, who needed stitches on his elbow, all the wounds were superficial. 
More reflections on the experience and conditions in Haitian medical facilities to come but for now, know that we are fine and will continue our work in Haiti tomorrow, after a five day hiatus. Come next week I’ll be bandage free and ready to rock.
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