last week ended well. the little tifi (which means "little girl" in creole - sorry i forgot to mention that in my last entry!) class tapered off on thursday and friday with nail care and hair accessories. in my defense, i had seen a lot of nail infections/finger-related issues last week in the clinic, so i justified my nailcare lesson with that. the hair - well - you should have just seen these little ladies prance around with hair ties, head bands, and clips. you would think i gave them each a million dollars. i have pictures, don't worry :-)
the weekend started off slow. i worked in the clinic computerizing medical records for most of the day on saturday and then helped out around the quad on saturday night until it was just about time to go to bed.
linda is peter's wife and who usually runs the guest house here. she had just arrived back in haiti from massachusetts on friday and she and i were getting ready to walk upstairs for bed when two boys showed up at our door saying one of their friends was sick. the clinic is not a 24 hour facility, so medical (and premedical) volunteers are pretty much it for all the children and surrounding people here at espwa if something comes up during the off hours (anytime other than 8-3pm monday through friday).
so, linda and i grabbed flashlights and walked over to the clinic. we round the bend and hear a lot of voices. there are close to 50 people all in pajamas crowded around the opening of the clinic. the boy is laying out on a bed, unconscious. linda and i walked over and i began to do the abc's like i was taught in high school during our emt course. all his vitals were normal and clear, but we couldn't get him to wake up. after trying all the usual remedies: pushing his nailbeds, pressure on the bottom of his feet, water, cold compresses, etc - we still couldn't get him to regain consciousness. the strange part was that when we pulled his arms up in the air and let them go, they would stay there instead of dropping like dead weight as you would expect. and the part that really got me was when i held his eyelids open his eyes rolled back into his head like something you'd see on the exorcist.
i asked all the questions. did he fall? did someone hit him? was he acting strange today? has he hit his head recently? anybody notice anything different at all? i got nothing.
so we took him to the hospital. on the way there, linda mentioned that sometimes weird things like this happen on saturday night because saturday night is the night for haitian voodoo ceremonies. she said this was the reason why so many people showed up and it explained their anxiety-driven reaction.
at midnight, we get to the hospital and on the way there, the kid wakes up. at this point, his eyes are open and he follows some commands like opening and closing his mouth and squeezing my hand, but he's not verbal. it was like he was a shell of a child, like there was no person inside. very hard to explain but he just seemed empty.
okay, get ready for some cultural medicine. the haitian doctor explains to me in broken english-creole that there is liquid in the boy's head that shifted to one side and they need to get it to come back to the other side. but, just in case he is 'developing a coma in his head,' (direct quote) they give him an injection of diazepam which is a neurological drug used to treat anxiety, insomnia, and seizure disorders.
no tests were done. even if i were fluent in haitian-creole, i don't know if i would have had words to use at this point.
so, we left the boy at the hospital to be monitored for the rest of the night. he returned to espwa the next day and apparently is doing quite well. i haven't had a conversation with him yet, but all seems to be well on the western front.
very interesting, i thought.
sunday we had mass and then a few volunteers here were driving to a local beach. they invited me to come along, so i jumped in. we drove to one of the most beautiful beaches i've ever seen. i definitely feel like i'm in the caribbean now. the water was that crazy blue that you really only see in crayola boxes and on cruise ships. we jumped off this rock into crystal clear warm water and hung out on the beach with tiny crabs and seashells. then, just at the end of the day, we watched a storm come in around the western side of the island. it came across the mountains, which literally dump off into the ocean. then it came across our little beach and you just saw the sheets of rain approaching your spot. we jumped under the covered area and let the breeze cool everything down.
i can't believe how fast the week is already going by. i'm leaving on thursday morning and tomorrow's already tuesday! i had a bit of a snag in my return transportation plans. the incountry flight i booked doesn't fly on the day i fly out of haiti for the us, so my options were either stay overnight in port-au-prince somewhere the day before my american airlines flight or take a 6 hour busride to port-au-prince on thursday. bus, it is! paige's boyfriend, wilson, is haitian and he was kind enough to offer to escort me so i don't have to travel across the country alone. i'm not sure about the safety in and around the capital right now and the bus will be a challenge enough, so i gladly took him up on his offer. i'll share my goldfish on the way there and offer to buy him lunch before we part ways.
i know i need to go back and think about jobs and medical school and my world. this has just been such a gift to have been able to work in haiti for the month. these kids are priceless. they're worth every sweaty day and every sleepless night. they're worth my frustration with the language and medical care. they're worth so much more than i can ever imagine. voodoo, diazepam, and all.
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