NEED TO BLOG!!!!

I feel guilty. It has been much too long since my last blog... all I can say is... "sorry". And if I was going to throw in an excuse... it might be... "I've been processing an awful lot."

I just finished a newsletter to send out, and once it is edited, I will probably post bits of it on here. If you want to be added to the newsletter list, just email me and I'll put ya on there!

So, today finds me and the rest of the MTI group hunkered down waiting for Hurricane Emily, or perhaps Tropical Storm Emily to hit sometime soon. We have had a lot of wind, and a little rain, but we are still waiting for the big storm to hit. So we wait... and while I still have a satellite connection to the internet... I blog.

Yesterday was a difficult day. I have to admit my passionate side... you know, the one that borders on angry, came out.

A day like every other day in Haiti... I hopped into the MTI van with 3 volunteers and 3 Haitian nurses. We arrived at Canaan Clinic to find about 50 patients waiting for us. One of the first patients to be triaged actually had a fairly severe problem. She had no breath sounds on the left side of her chest. In addition, she was having chest pain, her pulse was racing at 15o beats per minute and she was breathing rapidly at 37 breaths per minute. For those of you who are not medical... this is BAD... very bad. It could be a number of medical emergencies... a collapsed lung, a pleural effusion.... a serious infection... whatever it is... let me reiterate: it is an emergency.

Some people say you don't have emergencies in Haiti... let me explain to you why.

I immediately called a local partner organization to transport my patient to the hospital. I sent a former EMT and current med student with her in the "ambulance". From there the frustration began. We took the patient to project Medishare, probably the best option for a critical care emergency. We were told repeatedly by American nurses, doctors, and EMT's "we have no beds."
We begged, we pleaded, we just wanted this woman to be seen in the ER and get a chest x-ray. We were turned away.

Next stop; an MSF hospital. This time we were told repeatedly by French and Haitian nurses and doctors that they could not take the patient. The reason? "You should have called first." Apparently if they do not already have a working relationship with one organization, they will not accept patients transported there.
Now I got angry. This woman could be dying... and I'm being told I should have called first? What is this? Reservations at a fancy french restaurant or a Hospital ER... where you save peoples lives?

Next stop; General Hospital. The local public downtown hospital. And they are on strike. They cannot take patients.

We had no other choice. We ended up driving to a privately owned hospital in Petionville. The kind of hospital where patients have to pay their own bill... and it ain't cheap.
We were finally given care. The patient was put on oxygen, labs were drawn and the chest x-ray scheduled.
I am stunned... dazed...I have no idea how we will pay the bill.
I learned the lesson: money makes the world go round.

As I sat at home last night processing the day I realized I was angry. Really angry. And frustrated. What kind of injustice is this?
If you or I were to have a medical emergency, even one of less severity than this... we could walk into ANY hospital ER and be given life-saving treatment immediately.
But this woman... because of the fact she was born 710 miles southeast of the U.S. is turned away multiple times from life-saving treatment.

And where would she have gone if we had no clinic in Canaan? She would have died on the steps of a hospital because she could not pay.
This is injustice. It makes me angry to see it... to feel it... to hold the hand of another human being and look into her eyes as she experiences it.

I am angry...But I serve a God who loves justice.
A God who has called me out to fight against injustice. A God who calls me out to come alongside this woman as she experiences it and to stand with her, to advocate for her.

So as my heart is heavy, as I weep with this woman and her family over injustice, as I hold her hand... I see it. I feel it. His kingdom breaking through. And I have to thank God for calling me into what he is doing here. I rejoice that He has placed me in the clinic at Canaan, that He has brought this woman in her desperate situation to us. I rejoice that we have the resources to do something about this injustice.

I feel blessed and utterly humbled to be a part what He is doing here. And filled with an eager anticipation of what comes next.