Count Your Blessings

When I think about it . . . there are so many things I have in my life to be thankful for.  I have very supportive parents who have always emphasized the importance of care and compassion for others (I guess you may have taught me something).  I have two wonderful sisters, a soon to be brother in law, two fabulous dog nieces.  I have friends who have proven that long distance will . . . if anything make our relationships stronger.  I've got a great job I'll be starting once I fully return from Haiti.  [I not only get to move to Alaska . . . I get to have one of my best friends come with me!]

Today, I was listening to this song by a small band from Colorado (Paper Bird) . . . it's called Blood and Bones . . . there is a part that says 'how sweet this life can be, when your home sweet home is everywhere you go,' and I realized how true that is.  Even though I'm so far away, I know my foundation (which includes many of you who are reading this) are still with me.  [Jen, assuming you remember our conversation a few months ago, good theme song :)]   

Being here makes me realize how many things we are blessed to have . . . specifically our health care system.  How awesome is it that the things we bitch about are prescription coverage plans, or when people are taking advantage of the system.  For those who know me, and my tendency to be dry and sarcastic, the previous statement was not meant to be taken that way.  I'm serious . . . if these are the things that we have to complain about, then we are pretty damn lucky.

I knew that there would be people here I would be unable to help.  I knew that there would be people coming with advanced cancer.  [I was honestly expecting that it would happen sooner than it did].  Knowing these things does not make it any easier when it happens.  That first patient came today.  56 years old . . . went through menopause 10 years ago . . . bleeding for the past year.  They live in San Marc, but they came to OSAPO to see the 'white' gynecologist to make her better.  First time she went to see a doctor to evaluate it.  Advanced stage (at least IIIB) cervical cancer.  I sent her back to the hospital in San Marc in hopes that they might be able to offer some kind of palliation (we don't even have po narcotics here . . . she was stable and dying . . . nothing I could do).

So . . . with this humbling moment in time . . . I will say we are all very lucky to have the access that we do to health care.  It isn't perfect, but it is so much better than it could be.  Today was more of a reminder than I wanted as to why I am here.  There is nothing I can do for advanced staged cancers . . . but maybe some of the work I'm doing will prevent this from happening to someone else.