Haiti Update 4

I continue to be amazed at God's work in Haiti. I expected to hear about the poverty, the sickness, and the devastation. One only need to turn on the news to see this reality. It would be easy to consider these and surmise that there is no hope. But we are blessed.  We have the opportunity to hear stories that news anchors may see, but do not report from the perspective of one who expects God to show up. We do expect Him. And when we look at the details of the tiny miracles that occur each day, we know it could be only Him.

Pete's email about Monday. :

Two aftershocks in the middle of the night. Makes you wonder if the big quake will come again. I awakened to the same roosters and dogs and our Haitian housemates sleeping outside in the yard. Who can blame them?

How can a small town family doc from Smyrna, TN find himself essentially in charge of a hospital with an ER and tent city full of patients? Yesterday, by God's ordination, I was the only MD running the ER and the inpatients. We had an outstanding anesthesiologist and plastic surgeon inside, willing and capable, but their work was largely dependent on what we sent them from the outside. When I arrived a completely unresponsive man and an MVA with chest trauma were there waiting for me..... we hit the ground running. It is such a fluid situation. There is no certainty that anyone will show up to see the patients. Their lives hang on the thread of a few volunteers showing up that day. The Mexican navy has been here to help but they took two days off without telling anyone.

Through it all the people of Haiti continue to teach me patience. They are a rich people, expressive, thoughtful. But some of that has eroded into fatigue, doubt, skepticism.
I love caring for Haitians. In many ways I feel closer to these people than many of my own. You must feel them, listen to them, touch them to learn of their pain. We cannot simply whisk them off to the CT scanner or MRI because we don't have them. Often we are without xray. It is just me, the patient, a stethoscope and a story. Perfect but imperfect. It has taught me that in America we have lost the "touch" between doctor and patient.

A nurse came running into the ER yesterday and told me a little boy was crying in a tent, in excruciating pain. When I got there it was a seven year old boy who had a femur fracture with complete displacement. The only problem was that it had not yet been set and he had been off pain meds for more than a day. It made me think of my son who had the same injury when he was that age. Imagine if Buzz was unable to have pain meds and the pain he would have had to endure. But this child is my son, and it breaks my heart. He got pain meds and got near instant relief. He will get surgery today.