[What I really mean is be assertive, but there is no cheer that
goes with that.] First off, I need
to apologize for how badly I’ve been keeping up with my blog . . . here I am,
two weeks in, and this is only my second blog. This country has been keeping me more than busy. By the end of the day, I barely have time
to reflect on the occurances, let alone make attempts to create a whitty recap
for my blog. Any thing I may have
been able to piece together would have been worse than having a discussion with
me off my ADD medication . . . disorganized and maybe half way make sense.
I’m honestly not sure where I should start in my attempts to
update all of you as to what I’ve been doing these past couple weeks . . .
there have definitely been some memorable moments . . . singing ‘It’s a hard
knock life,’ as I cleaned the OR floors; the chicken who scared the crap out of
one of our team members in the work room (who we later found out was waiting
for her chicks to hatch); my first ride on a tap tap; further getting to know
some great Canadians who, as it turns out, came to Haiti to work on a project
that is right up my alley; . . . the list goes on.
If I did not say it earlier, I have been truly blessed with
the people I have had the privilege to work with during my time here. Our entire team at Pierre Payan was
better than anything I could have asked for. [I don’t want anyone to feel left out . . . but I feel it
necessary to say that Judy Douglas, you are a saint . . . you seem to have
twice the stamina of someone half your age . . . your kindness, generosity,
positive attitude and work ethic astounds me . . . you inspire me.] When multiple people of different ages,
locations and backgrounds come together to do work in Haiti, one may think
there is only one common denominator (whether it be medicine, religion, etc). My experiences have proven that theory
FALSE. [A friend once told me he
couldn’t believe that most of my closest friends were also doctors . . . how
boring, right . . . but medicine is not the reason we are friends, it’s just
the thing that brought us together prior to realizing we had so much more in
common.] I found out that one of
the general surgeons on the team (Dr. John Reidell) had pitched in the minor
leagues while he was in medical school.
His father, brother, and nephew were also major league pitchers for the
Yankees and Reds. [Although I was
unable to watch the games with my favorite fans, watching with him, with his
commentary, was definitely the next best thing . . . those moments are
something that I’ll never forget.]
The second week I worked at Pierre Payan, I operated with Dr.
Reidell. Very much a gentleman, he
asked my permission to assist me in my surgeries. What I did not realize was that he literally meant assist. He wanted me to do the entire
hysterectomy (for those of you who don’t frequently watch abdominal
hysterectomies, you usually have a surgeon on each side, taking turns ligating
vessels and pedicals). I told him
that one of my mentors use to make residents operate the same way . . . so if
there was a complication, you have no doubt who is responsible. His response . . . ‘Sounds like a very
wise man.’ [I never had the chance
to do any major surgeries with Dr. Griffin, but I almost felt that I was this
past week . . . an unexplainable feeling, that made my eyes smile]. On his last night in Haiti, he told me
not to be afraid to be assertive [among some other personable words of wisdom,
which I have taken to heart].
Now, enter my last weeks at OSAPO. I honestly did not know what I should expect. I can’t remember how much I revealed as
to the issues I’d been having here . . . specifically the lack of support,
unwillingness to provide an interpreter, providing a reliable nurse to work
with EVERY day, the charging for screening and treatment (and EXTREME lack of
communication regarding anything relating to the program). Issues which, after time, made me begin
to feel hopeless for any long term success.
With the help of an independent donor, we have been able to
convince the powers that be at OSAPO to let us start screening people for free,
and the word has spread like wild fire.
Women from all over have been coming to OSAPO for screening. I have two new nurses I’ve been working
with this past week, and we’ve already screened over 100 people, and performed
18 LEEPs (over half have been women I screened previously and was unable to
treat secondary to lack of supplies).
The nurses are asking if we can start clinic earlier in the day, as they
want to see as many patients as possible so that they can learn. Another independent donor has paid for
my daily interpreter for the time I’ve been here, something I felt necessary in
order for me to really take control as to what’s going on here. I don’t know what the future holds
here, and I don’t want to be too optimistic, but I really feel like I’m in
control, and not at the mercy of a higher up who is not listening to me.
I know that this whole blog has been slightly disorganized .
. . my ‘turning life into stories,’ professor in college would probably be very
disappointed in my jagged flow of events.
I hope to be more structured in future posts, but no promises!!
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