Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Our Patients in Port-au-Prince

Francis - A little 9 year old with a stomach Ache, sad, yellow, jaundice eyes. He came to see the doctor unescorted by mother or father. He came alone. I asked him where his parents were and he just stared off and said his sister was over there. He didn't look like the typical child of the street. He was well groomed. Clean. Haitian parents are not usually far off from their children. Especially in these camp settings. He said his parents were fine but I suspected otherwise. The most beautiful smile emerged when we gave him a cup of cough syrup. Sweeeeeet!
Mami - 79 years old hypertensive, diabetic. Alive and spirited. There were many like her.
Pasionat - Our little helper who reminded me at the end of the day that I didn’t take her picture. My batteries had died by then.
Baby boy with the sun bleached blonde hair - waited till I picked him up to pee his pants but we got him some formula and diapers. He walked barefoot in the dirt and gravel. He was the same age as my youngest daughter, not yet 2years old. I tried to pick him up but he knew where his mother was and he wanted her back. I should have asked if it was okay to pick him up. I got lost in the moment and started to do what many mothers do when they meet a stranger with a child; I shared about my daughter with her. I quickly realized this was not a cute exchange between mothers. There was an imaginary wall that separated her life from mine. Yes we were standing on the same soil for the moment but we were worlds apart. She held her child protectively and didn't seem interested any story about my child. I don’t blame her.
Woman with the two sons. One who died in the earthquake and the other whose leg was crushed and split in 3 places. We sent the doctor and wound specialist to her tent since he couldn’t come to our location. It reminded me of the biblical story of the paralytic whose friends lowered him down from the roof to see the great healer, Jesus.
There were children nearby, under another tent our group set up. With one page from a coloring book and crayon they were able to forget about the hot sun and their worries. For a few minutes they were able to be kids again.
There was the old woman with the black prom dress; her head had a healed split in it. She said she was having trouble seeing, blurred vision, and headaches. She said she had been hit in the head with a brick. There was the man who suffering from similar symptoms. He also was hit in the head by the rubble. He kept explaining away the severity saying it wasn’t a big rock just a small one. That he just needed something for the pain. Just something to help him sleep at night. Both were describing symptoms of possible concussions. Nothing we could do to help them.
Others with ringing in their ears, lack of sleep, inability to eat, or pain in the stomach after they eat, many skin infections, fungus and yeast from the untreated water. Scalp infections.
One 15 year old girl was walking around with a broken collar bone that had never been tended to. You could see the derailed bone protruding underneath her skin. She was tall and slim with an orange dress on. Someone had braided her hair in large, neat, braids. She was escorted by an old man who did all the talking for her. She was dehydrated and could not eat. She looked severely traumatized. She had a blank stare in her eyes. Like she was still in the moment of the earthquake.

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