BY MARK
Today I cried.
I am generally a pretty stoic person. I actually have been described as “Spock-like”
because in the battle of emotions versus logic/facts in decision-making,
logic/facts wins every time. It is not
because I don’t feel things. I do. But when
it comes to making decisions, I was raised to believe that feeling should be
taken out of the equation. Weigh the
facts. Dwell on what can be logically
accomplished and push forward. That is
how it is done.
…but today, I cried.

…but today I cried.
Situations continued to occur: telling a caregiver that her
hydrocephalic child really must wait for the surgical team to come and there
was not much we could do until then, and then hearing that the child passed
within the hour; a continuous stream of motorcycle accidents with severe
injuries; special needs kids with nowhere to receive help; malnourished kids
who passed away in spite of everyone’s efforts; and yet another child who
arrived unconscious while awaiting surgery in Port au Prince and we transported
her. All of those situations tore my
heart and made me sad.
…but today I cried.
Today started normally and really the events of the day were
no better or worse than any other day.
When I arrived at the hospital and looked in the ER, there lay a 64 year
old lady, who had suffered a heart attack.
She was struggling for breath and even with a strong flow of oxygen her
levels were not great. She had been
given the appropriate meds for her condition but she continued to
struggle. We felt she needed to be
transported and made the appropriate arrangements, got the O2 tank ready to go,
and prepared to load her in the transport vehicle. At that point, the family decided that they
really could not afford to pay at another hospital. We said we would waive all fees from us, and
just get her there. The family stated
that they would care for her at home and as she passed they would be
there. After all, they said, she was
elderly. The view of her being loading
into the back of a pick up truck with sheets wrapped around her, as we
unplugged her oxygen was not one I wanted to have. She struggled for breath, and fell
semiconscious on her make-shift mat as they drove off. I stood with my staff as
they drove off, praying for her and her family and shaking our heads at the
choice. That was terrible, and made me
heartbroken, but not tearful.
Then, I cried.
I am not sure why that was the moment after all of the rest
of the events that caused the tear ducts to produce. I don’t know why this moment was the one.
Maybe the “circle of life” had been seen.
Maybe there was a cumulative effect.
Maybe I am getting soft in my old age.
I don’t know, but,
Today, I cried.
It somehow felt cathartic and somehow after pulling myself
together, I re-entered the healthcare playing field. After all, Jesus wept, so I guess it was
ok. I went downstairs in time to see a
little boy with a high fever having some (presumably) febrile convulsions. I watched the staff do the right things and
readied myself for the next challenge.
Maybe today was the day that for that one moment, feelings trumped logic. I am not sure of all of the details, or the “Why”s,
and “How”s but God jumped in and gave me a little alone time and break. It may not happen again, or it may, all I
know, is that ,
Today I cried.
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