Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Movin' On!
Still interested in reading more blog entries? We are now posting blog entries to the Mission Haiti Medical website at www.missionhaitimedical.org. See you there!
Friday, October 25, 2019
Rising to the Challenge
BY MARK
The Challenge: Unrest in Haiti
Protests, like this one in February of this year, are common |
During the past several
weeks, Haiti has experienced extreme civil unrest. Inflation rates of over 20%, gas shortages,
governmental insubordination, and high unemployment rates pushed the Haitian
populous to revolt under this extreme pressure. The resulting roadblocks and
marches have made it extremely difficult and sometimes impossible for the staff
of the hospital to be able to find a passable road or any vehicle with enough
gasoline to make it to work. When they arrive at the hospital facility, they
are greeted with shortages of diesel fuel for the generator-derived
electricity, shortages of medicine and supplies, and a diminished patient base,
as those who are ill often cannot find a safe passage to the hospital.
Unfortunately, this is the challenge facing nearly all hospitals and businesses
in Haiti.
The Challenge: Decreased Patient Numbers
Miss Ultana sees a young patient |
The business model that
Mission Haiti Medical (MHM) and Hôpital L’Eglise de Dieu Réformée (HEDR) have
adopted serves to foster a cooperative venture between the two entities. Even
though patient fees do not cover the monthly operating expenses, we (MHM and
HEDR) feel that each patient, if at all possible, needs to share in the ownership
of his/her medical care. With these fees, HEDR has claimed responsibility for
40% of monthly operating capital over the last several years. With the inability of patients to access the
hospital or funds during this time of unrest, this 40% of monthly income has
nearly disappeared.
Rising to the Challenge: The Hospital Staff and the
MHM Board
Just as the Haitian civil
unrest was beginning the MHM board was completing a four-day meeting at the
hospital in Haiti. Evaluation of the
HEDR facility, meetings with the chief of each hospital department, and
conversations with many hospital staff members enlightened the board and gave
them a new appreciation for the challenges that exist and for the successes
attained. Although the scope of the
current unrest could not have been predicted, they left better equipped to support
the patients and the staff, and with a better understanding of how to improve
both patient care and the hospital facility in times of crisis and beyond. The
board also grew to appreciate the high quality of the staff at the hospital and
how they continue to rise to and overcome so many challenges to care and
minister to the patients at HEDR.
The Mission Haiti Medical Board hears from Miss Joseph, Head ER Nurse |
Rising to the Challenge: You
As we look forward to open
roads and the ability to once again aid those who are in need of the hospital’s
services, we need to compensate for the deficit incurred for the months when
patients were unable to access care. The
40% per month that was not able to be accessed from patient fees was
compensated from coiffures that were to be used for improvements for staffing
and other basic hospital functions.
Prayers, encouragement, and fiscal support are all needed to return us
to where we began when “things unraveled” in the streets of Haiti.
2019 matching campaign: Now through
the end of this year, every dollar donated will be matched 100% up to
$10,000. Look for details on our web
page and on Facebook.
Rising to the Challenge: God
Always Does
During this current challenge
in Haiti and from the beginning of Genesis, no challenge has ever been bigger
than our God! We celebrate this fact and
continue with faith and hope as we look beyond this time of upheaval to a time
when once again we can move forward.
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
The Bus That Came One Friday
BY MARK
We began to process our next step, since Pierre’s family was in Port au Prince, and the road between the hospital and his family was currently blocked due to riots. The family was reached but inaccessible due to the situation. The bus was sent on its way and we waited. And waited. And waited for the road to be open. After several hours, we got the news that he could be transported through the road. The relief that the road was open was certainly overshadowed by the reality of his passing, but taking one step toward closure of the situation was certainly welcomed.
The large repainted school
bus pulled up near the entrance to the hospital. A flurry of activity ensued inside and a
gentleman emerged from the bus’ door, stating that they had a man inside who
was in very critical condition. We
prepared a gurney and rushed to the door of the well-used bus and two men
carried the injured man and placed him on the gurney. Noticing that our ER doctor was busy with
other patients, I went to the side of the man on the gurney and tried to
ascertain his story. A distinguished
lady exited the bus and began to share the events surrounding the day. Pierre (not his real name) is in his mid-20’s
and was being treated to a day at the beach with some friends. As the friends were swimming in the ocean, Pierre
was several yards away from anyone when he went under the water. Noticing that he did not surface after a
short time, his friends rushed to his side, saw he was unconscious, and pulled
him to the shore and decided to get him to a local hospital. After asking around, the Church of God
hospital in Saintard was suggested, Pierre was loaded into the bus, and was brought
to see the doctors at our ER.
I yelled for a nurse to
assist and both of us began assessing him.
His temperature was nearly the same as the ambient temperature, he had
no pulse, no respiration, and his pupils were fixed and dilated—all signs that
his life had slipped away. A few hours
had passed since he was pulled from the ocean.
As with emergency situations around the world, the decision needed to be
reached if we should try heroic measures to resuscitate him. After some brief conversations, it was
decided that the harsh reality was that Pierre had passed from this life to the
next. His friends said that Pierre was
diagnosed with a seizure disorder of some type several years ago, but the
medicine he needed was not affordably available to him. They believed that he had a seizure prior to
his fatal descent into the ocean.
We began to process our next step, since Pierre’s family was in Port au Prince, and the road between the hospital and his family was currently blocked due to riots. The family was reached but inaccessible due to the situation. The bus was sent on its way and we waited. And waited. And waited for the road to be open. After several hours, we got the news that he could be transported through the road. The relief that the road was open was certainly overshadowed by the reality of his passing, but taking one step toward closure of the situation was certainly welcomed.
As I reflected on the day, I
couldn’t help but wonder:
--What would have changed if Pierre
had been able to get the medicine he needed?
--What would have changed if
he could have gotten to the hospital a bit more quickly?
--How could things have been
handled better as we need to account for roadblocks?
--Why did this life end so
tragically?
I didn’t come up with any
concrete answers to these questions but as I sat for a moment, wiped a tear
away for what “might be” in a different world, I felt helpless. So many times in Haiti, we feel helpless and
too small to make the necessary changes to make this little island a better
place. BUT, we do not feel hopeless. As long as there is a God who provides the
hope, we will continue to try to make a change.
A change for hope. A change for
the voiceless. A change for the sake of
Christ.
Our prayers and condolences go
out to the family of Pierre.
Monday, May 27, 2019
Walking Alongside Each Other
By Kathy
Earlier this year…
It had been an eventful couple of weeks. We had a lovely team from Indiana that came
for a week to learn and provide needed surgery.
Two days before their scheduled departure, a country-wide strike took
place. With the strike came violent
protests, road blockades, and tire burnings.
The day of the group’s departure, we left under the cover of darkness
for the airport, they arrived there safely, and we continued on to our home in
Port au Prince. From that moment and for
the next 12 days, the rioting continued.
The US Embassy urged all people to “shelter in place”. Markets were closed. There were acute gas shortages. Prices of basic necessities skyrocketed. Each night we heard groups of motorcycles
drive by, shooting into the air as they passed our home. Though we thought we were handling the
situation with calm and trust in the Lord, on the inside our nerves were
frazzled.
We had previously purchased plane tickets, scheduled to
depart a week after the rioting began, and had a full agenda of meetings and
speaking engagements in the US. We
weren’t sure if we could find a safe way from our house to the airport 2.8
miles away. We hired a Haitian driver
who knew the back streets, and left before daybreak the morning of our
flight. Before we left we collected all
the food in our house and gave it to our Haitian neighbor, who wasn’t sure when
it would be safe to go out to buy food, and wasn’t sure if he could afford the
now-higher prices even if he could get out.
On the way to the airport, we passed too many smoldering road blocks to
count, swerving to dodge large rocks and other debris in the road. Once there, we waited with throngs of others
who had decided the situation was too unsafe to remain in Haiti.
Once inside the crowded airport terminal, we waited over an
hour in the long line at the ticket counter (the kiosks were out of
order). When we got in line, another
American was standing near us and struck up a conversation. He was an incredible man with an incredible
story, who deeply loved the Lord and his family. For over an hour we visited with each other
and he shared stories and pictures of his family and the ministry where he
worked. Mark consulted with him about
his current health situation, as he had all the classic signs of an ongoing
heart attack. There is little medical
help available in Haiti in the event of a heart attack, so he was on his way to
a US emergency room. In line for
security, we noticed he seemed to be doing worse. With his permission, we flagged down an
employee at the airport to escort him to the front of the line and get a
wheelchair. Though he was scheduled to
be on our flight, we did not see him board.
We were worried about his condition.
We stepped off the plane into the Miami airport. Normally we feel some of the stressors of
Haiti fall off our shoulders as we enter the Disneyworld feel of the US, but
this time the frazzled nerves of the continuing riots and concern for our new
friend seemed to linger. While we waited
for our connecting flight, we learned that our new friend we had made just
hours earlier had passed away shortly after we hailed the wheelchair for
him. Forty-eight years old. Life is so fragile.
I tell you all of that to help you understand where my heart
was when we arrived on US soil. I felt
like my nerves were on overload. I would
jump at small noises. Was this, on a
smaller scale, what PTSD feels like?
The day after we returned, I went to a casual gathering of
friends, most of whom I had known in our prior US life. There was a lot of chit-chat, sharing each
other’s stories of the day. “Did we tell
you, we got new kitchen cabinets!” “My last shopping trip to the grocery took 2
hours – they are remodeling and it is SO hard to find all the food on my list!”
“My son’s soccer team won the tourney!” “We are planning our next vacation – do
you think we should go to Florida or the Smokies?” “The new Starbucks is such a pain – it took
me 20 minutes to get my latte this morning!” and the like. I tried to smile and enter into the
conversation. My heart was not present.
The next day I reflected on the prior evening. Those used to be MY comments, MY
thoughts. Honestly, once I re-acclimate
to the US, that still can be my kind of conversation. But the intense events of my prior week were
so fresh in my heart. The conversations
of the gathering felt so… TRIVIAL.
I continued to talk to the Lord about this. And I thought about a dear friend of ours,
Phyllis Newby. She is a missionary from
Jamaica and has lived in Haiti for 50 years.
She visited our family numerous times during the years when we lived in
the US. She came to our kids’ soccer
games. She went to kindergarten graduations. She celebrated life’s little moments with us. Who knows what she had seen in her own life
in Haiti just before she arrived at our house.
She never made us feel that our lives were trivial. She joined us where we were and celebrated
the moment with us. She made our
victories her victories. She made our
disappointments her disappointments. It
is a great lesson I am learning.
I think of Jesus at the wedding when they ran out of
wine. Jesus surely knew that, in the
scheme of all the world’s woes, running out of wine is certainly not a major
issue. Some could say it is trivial.
But when his mother came to Him and told him of the problem at hand, her
concern became His concern. And He used
the situation to glorify His heavenly Father.
Living with this whole world inside of me, the world that sprouted
and grew within me while living in this wondrous and complicated country of Haiti, sometimes I am confused and conflicted
upon re-entry. If you talk with me shortly after I return
and I stare blankly or have a vacant half-smile on my face, please give me some
grace. I am a work in progress, trying
to learn these profound life lessons God has set before me. I, as well, will try to give you grace, not
knowing what world may be living inside of you.
I am trying to learn to walk alongside each person I meet, and join them
in their journey, just as Jesus did. And
some days I do better than others.
Author’s Note:
Haiti often is depicted as a financially poor country with only troubles and hardship. It is so much more than that. It is a beautiful place, with a rich cultural
heritage and deeply passionate people.
This blog post is just one experience, and does not give a complete
representation of a complex country.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Of Feet, Cow Dabs, and Easter
By Mark
When I was a young boy, I
would often play outside barefoot.
Certainly my mom discouraged me from doing this, but I was a normal kid
who sometimes pushed the envelope of obedience.
In the pasture by our house where the cows grazed, I would run around
and joust with imaginary creatures and generally have some fun. Occasionally, I would squish my feet in what
we (and many others) called “cow dabs”.
Now you really don’t need to be brilliant to be able to define “cow dab”
nor to realize that oozing this stuff through your toes is probably not a good
thing. I can’t even imagine the micro biome of a cow dab and how many diseases
I risked by dancing that barefoot squish.
Thank goodness my feet didn’t seem to mind, after the hose rinsed the
bulk of the goo from them.
Feet go through some gross
stuff! In addition to cow dabs, feet walk through all kinds of nasty things. They are prone to fungi (i.e. Athlete’s
foot), corns, bunions, hammertoes, diabetic microvascular issues, neuropathy,
trauma, and so many things that only a podiatrist can truly appreciate. It was
only in the past few years while serving in Haiti that I have been able to see
even more things that occur with feet.
The staff of the emergency department at the small country hospital in
Saintard, Haiti sees foot and ankle “issues” nearly every day. Machetes mercilessly mangle feet and remove
portions of them. Motorcycles burn them,
run over them, and twist them in directions that I never knew possible. Thorns can pierce inadequately covered feet,
allowing the indigenous dirt and grime into an open wound, creating some
incredible infections. In addition, cysts, tumors, and cancer all seem to have
somewhat of a preponderance for the Haitian foot.
A few years ago, I was made
aware of a disease in Haiti that most often starts with a foot. The locals call it “chik” and I initially had
no idea what it was. After seeing chunks
of feet that were literally falling off, I knew that I needed more
research. I asked our local doctors and
some “smarter than I am” missionaries whom we know. After doing an internet search and being able
to define “chik” as something called Tungiasis, I discovered that the causative
agent was a small insect. The insect,
which is like a small flea, lives in the dirt and enters the foot through any
opening, then during its reproductive life cycle, ends up destroying the
vasculature in the foot and the resulting necrotic toes eventually can just
“fall off”. It is horrific to see and
worse to treat. If, when attempting to
remove the fleas surgically from the wounds the creature is ruptured, the eggs
invade the wound even more, further complicating the possible recovery
process. It is ridiculous to treat, but
that is a whole different blog!
So before you start believing
I have an abnormal fascination with feet, let me get to my point. I come from a church that celebrates Maundy Thursday
(the Thursday before Easter Sunday) each year with a ceremonial foot
washing. To symbolize and celebrate the
humility of Jesus and to follow his example, we would take a pitcher of water,
a basin, and a towel, and wash each other’s feet. While meaningful at the time, it is even more
so today. With the frequent lack of
adequate foot covering here in Haiti, the ever-present dust and grime, the
necessity to walk for great distances, and
the pathology found in Haiti, feet can sometimes be “not pretty”. If I could extrapolate this back in time a
couple thousand years ago, I wonder if the feet in Jesus’ time had some of
these same issues? How sturdy were their
sandals? Did they walk through
thorns? Did they experience
infections? Were there disease states
such as “chik” or Athlete’s foot or other traumas? I can’t begin to imagine that the God of the
universe loves us so much that He sent His only son who humbled Himself to wash
“those” feet. Not only that, but He
continued to humble Himself on the cross.
He did this for you and for me and for all of us. I am certainly excited to serve this kind of
God: a God who loves me in spite of my sins, my flaws, and my icky, “cow dab”
squishing feet.
Happy Easter everyone! He is risen!
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