... and Then a Fight Broke Out

BY MARK

For quite awhile, the obstetrician who works at our hospital has asked that we do a mobile clinic in his hometown.  He is from an area of Haiti that does not have a hospital near and has but a small part-time clinic nearby to care for the healthcare needs of thousands in the area.    While it sounds desperate, remote and a difficult place to do a mobile clinic, the fact remained that this was his hometown that held his family and allegiances.  After some conversation, I consented to take a group there, complete with a couple of doctors, nurses and a few suitcases full of medicine.  The line of patients grew as the day wore on, and the patients became hotter and more tired.  Eventually the pushing and shoving reached a feverish pitch and tempers started to flare.  I was in the back of the clinic when a few members of the team rushed to me and said “Do something!  They are fighting!”  After the team was safely out of the way (actually one of them had his shoulder injured while trying to break up the ruckus), it was time for me to do something.  By nature, when it comes to the “fight or flight” reaction to fear, I run away as fast as my legs will take me.  I am not aggressive by nature and would do anything to avoid conflict.  So, now I was to “do something”.  As I surveyed the scene, a rather good-sized 20-something gentleman was bleeding from his face, his fists drawn and several people standing in a circle around him and yelling.  The group was watching as I approached so I quickly ruled out my initial inclination to whimper and cower in the corner.  For some reason, my legs started walking toward the guy in the red shirt.  My brain was saying “Mark, are you nuts? Run the other way!”, but my legs kept moving toward him.  I walked through the noisy circle to the red-shirted perpetrator and he let me put my arm around him.  I assured him that it would be ok and I walked with him to our pharmacy area.  He (like me) was shaking like a leaf, but was very cooperative and agreeable to my requests.  I cleaned up the blood on his face, dressed his wounds and gave him the medicine he needed for his general health.  We talked a little bit and he calmed down.  I walked him to a safe area near the exit, he gave me a hug, I told him “God bless you!” and he left.  What just happened??  That went against everything that I was feeling inside!!  I realized my heart rate was elevated and I was still shaking!  Whoa!  I realized that God had just done something pretty cool!  It certainly was not me!  Inside I was whimpering and running away.  I think it is truly amazing what God can do….in spite of us!