Reentry

TJ and I are on the final leg of our journey home. PAP-MIA-JFK-MIN-DEN. It's been a log, hard, heartbreaking and rewarding week. We are both a bit run into the ground, and on top of it TJ has contracted some sort of respiratory gunk.

We feel as though we've been on the ground for a lot longer than a week. It seems weak to say that...I look around at other healthcare providers with a thousand-yard stare, and realize they've only been on the ground for twice our time.

After virgin bloody mary's on one leg of the flight, we suck it up and have a morning commemorative shot of whiskey in Minnesota. It burns in a good way after spending the night at JFK.  On the final leg home we recount the highs and lows of the trip. Most are recounted here. Most. Writing this blog, in the past/present tense, I realized that there are some stories that just aren't to be told. I've taken you for the most part day by day through our experience, and I hope this gives you an idea of what it was like. TJ and I agree though, that some stories we carry with us, though seldom share.

I feel as though we've seen humanity at its best and worst this trip. We've seen those operating on the most primitive survival instincts, and those whose compassion only grows in the face of adversity. There have been those that have become adoptive parents to children orphaned by the earthquake. There have been those that have split their families in hopes of self-preservation and a better life for their children. This is a country where adults rarely smile, and never complain. Children innocent to their situation keep smiles alive.

I worry about the mental health component of all this. Everyone we met has some sort of PTSD. It appears that no one sleeps. Some weep silently. Others speak of night terrors and loved ones screaming in their sleep. Our translators speak of even further horrors in outlying refugee camps that have seen little aid.

Coming back, it is odd to take up the life I left here. It is easy to feel guilty for the situation I find myself in. I remind myself often, that I should feel grateful rather than guilty. And a duty to help others. I know that Haiti will remain in my heart and my mind, a place that remains in need long after the media has left.  Thanks for reading.