Day 2

Our clinical days are idyllic, compared to how it must have been right after the earthquake. The stream of patients is still unending, but there is much less trauma now. The clinic's surgical room has seen little surgery as of late. The clinic is split into three stations, sometimes four. Station one is for general treatment, housed in one of those pop-up tent shelters in the compound. Station two is primarily wound care, though also general treatment. It is in one of the buildings in the barracks. There is also a pediatric station inside the barracks, and some days there is an OB/GYN room. TJ and I spent most of our time in station one, rotating as needed through the other sites.

It's easy to lose count of how many patients we see. I saw kid after kid after kid--lots of pediatric exposure. Lots of diarrhea, malnutrition, respiratory infections, skin infections....These kiddos just can't stay healthy with the conditions they are living in. A lot of kids are showing signs of stress from the earthquake, sometimes silently crying as they sit. Perhaps the most difficult thing is knowing we are providing temporary solutions to chronic problems. Still, we treat with pedialyte, Ibuprofen, antibiotics, and anything else pertinent from the pharmacy. It is a new challenge, since most of the medications are in Spanish.

Three to four times a day TJ or I catch a nearly comatose child in line, limp in their mother's arms. These go straight to our peds ED doc.

TJ and I transport one patient via the ambulance CIMO has to the OB ward. There aren't any doctors there, and we're not sure we improved her situation. Later that night I helped the ped's doc extract chipped teeth from a three year old who fell.

My translator is Jacklin, a Haitian medical student. He's smart and compassionate--I would love to see him back in school soon, as he is the type of person Haiti needs so much right now. TJ is working with a CIMO guy named Evans. He has the interest and aptitude to be a medic, and we are trying to teach him as we go along. Really, we couldn't have done anything without these two during the week. They translated, helped us wade through situations, and gave us something to shoot for in integrity. Both have been working almost non-stop since the earthquake. Jacklin has worked with different medical teams as a translator. He always pushes for the teams to go further into IDP (internally displaced people) camps to reach those who can not reach us. Evans was in the presidential palace when it collapsed, but his sense of duty has kept him on the job through it all. He and his sisters even adopted an orphaned 15-month old after the earthquake. Evans is so proud of his new son.

The only crack in their armor is their eyes. You can see the sadness, especially when we see patients. There is the woman with her newly adopted son, trying to take care of him though she has no food or shelter to offer. The family of four, a single mother, still without shelter. The twelve year old with no one.

That night was unbearably hot in our tents, pouring sweat inside as the rains pounded outside. A few questions on my mind as I try to sleep: What is the end game in Haiti? Who rebuilds? Where has the government been? How do houses get  rebuilt? It is so important to ensure your donation money makes it to the ground here. How does this situation become something other than the status quo?