This summer is definitely one of transition for NVM. A new nurse, Katherine, arrived from the states to start her one year commitment here only a few weeks before Aubree, one of NVM's first nurses left Haiti to go back to school in Indiana. Change has a tendency to be uncomfortable, and I've felt this despite only being here four weeks. So many emotions are found in a community saying goodbye to an integral member while simultaneously welcoming another. In addition, two other staff members are leaving shortly to pursue school back home. Interns are starting to see the end of their time here as well as each day passes and summer ages. Considering all this, I've been reminded of God's faithfulness across periods that feel unstable. Timing is difficult to understand but His timing is perfect, and He is loyal to His children. I take comfort in believing that each of us have a purpose while we're here and that when He calls us elsewhere, that's because He has a plan for us elsewhere. And that is something to be hopeful about.
Last week was an adventurous week. Two large teams were here from the U.S. to help run VBS and mobile clinics in surrounding communities outside of NVM. Each day I had the priviledge to participate with the medical trips. Tuesday and Wednesday we went to Onaville, a larger area pretty close by that's scattered across the mountainous terrain down the road from us. It was the same process that happens here on campus. The patients wait one by one to meet with a doctor or nurse to explain their symptoms and, in turn, receive an order for meds. They bring their papers to us at the "pharmacy" where we arrange in baggies the meds they need. Every patient's order is different.
Typically we give them enough for 1-2 weeks, but it depends on each medication and person. After gathering the right doses, someone has to explain to each patient how to take them. How many each day, for how long, what it's for, etc. Obviously this has to be done in Creole. The American team members helping us were given the task of sorting the needed meds for each patient which meant that Abby and I were the most equipped out of the group to do the teaching portion. It's still kind of crazy to me that I would actually have the ability to do this. Brooke, the American nurse who lives here full-time and speaks fluently, was with us but trusted us with these roles and allowed us to handle majority of the communicating.
Each mobile clinic day we saw at least twice as many patients as we do at NVM. The second day at Onaville I think we saw almost 200 people. A normal amount on campus would be 45. We started mid morning each day
and typically finished around 1 or 2pm, but by that time my brain was always completely worn out. We'd hand out the last bag of meds, pack everything up into our tap-tap (truck/bus vehicle-thing) and bounce our way back to Chambrun.Thursday the medical team went out to set up a clinic in Thomazea, but nobody showed up because the tropical storm Chantal was coming. I stayed on campus to help in the clinic here. It was one of Katherine's first days being the only American nurse in there because Aubree had to go pick up her mom from the airport and Brooke had to go with the medical team. We didn't expect it to be an eventful day seeing that storms were coming and no one goes out in bad weather here, but sure enough we had about 20 patients that were sick enough to decide the journey was worth it.
One man in particular was extremely ill. From first glance I knew he needed special attention. Katherine brought him to a bed and we continued triaging the other patients. Shortly after finishing the doctor initiated for our Haitian nurse to start an IV because he was extremely dehydrated. Katherine and I weren't clued in on the plan, but fortunately she peeked her head in his room and saw they were searching for an entry point. Patients starting bringing back their orders so I filled and handed out their prescriptions while Katherine tried to help with the young man. They tried starting an IV but with no success. His veins were impossible. At one point they were able to start one and give him a couple hundred mililiters of fluids, but then the vein blew. He perked up some, but was still in poor condition. Someone thought to give him pedialyte, but he threw all of it up because he was told to swallow too much too fast. With limited further options, the doctor decided to refer him to a hospital and the man left.
What do you do when everyone you work with speaks another language? One that you are learning but are still at a point where your commication skills are limited. How can you advocate for your patient's well-being and offer your expertise, especially in a scenario where it's needed but your colleagues don't fully trust that yet because you're new? Katherine explained later that in the states she would have been able to call a team to come start a picc-line after determining his veins were no good. We don't have that option here. There's no one to fall back on. You do all that you can (in an out-patient clinic) and if that's not enough you send them to a hospital. But there's no guarantee the hospital will even admit him because he could be too sick or not sick enough. How do you even get him there if he can barely walk? Katherine said that if she had known the doctor was planning on sending him to a hospital (which he was), she would have pushed for sending him hours sooner than they did because his veins were impossible long before he walked through the door. They could have saved the time and supplies.
Sometimes the pieces here don't fit together perfectly. Everywhere you look there are ways that systems can function more efficiently. Communication could be better. Cultures could understand each other more. Situations could be handled differently. As one small person in the mix of all this, it can be overwhelming. With the mission to help restore brokenness in the forefront, setbacks are simply discouraging. I think that it's obstacles like these that make people question the sovereignty and faithfulness of the Lord. But I also think that He can handle that. He understands how it looks from our point of view, and He probably appreciates when we're honest about our doubt. Through it all, He asks us to fix our eyes on Him and trust in His goodness.
On our last day of mobile clinics we ventured up to Fond Cheval, a Shire-like village tucked away into a mountain peak where the breeze is cool and trees grow tall. This place was just different. Footpaths were steep within the rich volume of the mountain land. Little homes were nestled cozily amongst the lush greenery where children played, their families working and visiting with each other. Some toiled diligently in their gardens, others laid beneath the shade to rest. A small structure stood nearby that I learned was the village's church. There was just something about the wonder of it all that enchanted my spirit, perhaps because I'd never been there before, or simply that it varied from the climate of Chambrun, but it spoke to me -- in a different way than desert speaks. It was as if my soul was invited to lay down and drink.
We set everything up beneath the outstretched branches of one magnificent tree. Patients needing to see a doctor stood in a line that weaved all around the tree and waited patiently for their turn. Before we began, the whole team gathered to pray, and it was then that it hit me. How fortunate I was to be surrounded by the beauty of God's people and creation serving in a way that brings my heart to life. Oh, Adventure! I will never forget that special day.
Sometimes the Lord calls us to a desert, sometimes he calls us to a mountain top. In all times He is faithful. In all times He is good.
