3/20/12
Things have been going well. Better and better. There have been some recent events that were interesting and I thought I would share.
I went to HInche a couple of weeks ago and visited with everyone there. It was wonderful. I spent every day with Marthonie (who I used to teach with), and visited a lot with Genette, the other midwives, the MWH house staff, etc. Jamlex, who we used to spend every day with when we lived in Hinche, was really fun to be around again. He has changed so much in 6 months. He is about 2 years old now! The first moment he saw me, the first thing he said was “Blada”. He is used to seeing us together! He knew my name, but the whole time I was there, he always called me Blada. It was funny. I went to their house and spent a day there, with him and Diunney, his mother (the cook at the MWH house). It was so nice having time to sit with people. Marthonie and I miss eachother a lot. She is doing the classes mostly on her own now, with some “help” from the American volunteers.
Visiting the hospital was very interesting, as always. Man, I really miss working there. I got to see all the people I used to work with—the OB, the head ofmaternity, the midwives, some of my old students, etc. The first day I went, I just hung out and socialized. The second day, there was no one working in the prepartum room (antepartum) so I worked in there by myself all morning. Almost every single person in there was either preeclamptic or eclamptic. I couldn’t work on everyone so I chose the 3 worst cases, who needed the most immediate attention. It was 2 women who had already had eclamptic seizures, and one preeclamptic woman with a splitting headache (bad sign) who needed her labor induced and had super high blood pressure (like 190/130). I got all their IV’s and meds going, and just kept going between them checking their B/P, making sure the IV’s were running correctly, etc. I induced the preeclamptic woman. I also spent most of the morning running around, looking for the materials I needed to work on these very sick women. I went between 3 or 4 places all morning, getting things as I needed them. It is ridiculous! It’s just as bad if not worse—the access to materials and the porganization of materials—as when I used to be there. Yes, there are some more things that seem to be more in abundance now than before (because of the new director of the hospital), but the organization and access isn’t any better. This lack of access to basic supplies and medications is why preeclamptic women don’t get induced and then go on to have eclamptic seizures.
The new director of the hospital seems to be very proactive and forward-thinking. He is also very accessible and not a sociopath, like the last person. I like him a lot. However, there are people who DON’T like him, or the order and progress he represents (he has also been cracking down on hospital staff when they are lazy and apathetic about performing their jobs), and there has actually been a subversive wave of propaganda against him. No one actually knows who is behind it. But, there have been death threats, things on the radio, and there is red graffiti spray painted on some of the hospital walls. When I saw him and asked him how things are going, he smiled and calmly replied that there have been some “ti pwoblem”—“small problems”, that are always to be expected in a situation like this, but that things are going well. When he first arrived to Hinche last October or so, he used to always have these 4 large bodyguards with him—everywhere he went. Now, it doesn’t seem that he does. I guess he anticipated trouble before he came, I guess this is normal. People like to create chaos and impede progress. The last person who had his job, everyone was just too scared of him to ever try to intimidate him or speak out against him in any way.
The day I travelled from Hinche back to Jacmel was also pretty memorable. It was just another pretty normal day in Haiti, especially travelling such a great distance. Shortly after leaving HInche, one of the tires on the papadap (like a minivan—faster than a tap tap, which is a pickup truck) exploded, so we all had to get out and wait for another machine (general term for different kinds of vehicles) to pick us up. When the next machine came, everyone trampeded in, pushing and shoving (totally normal), and since I didn’t want to take part in that, I just waited and then got in. Well, my seat was now occupied—I didn’t say anything, and just started unfolding the little side seat with no back support that was now to be mine. As I was doing this, the metal support attached to the seat slammed down onto my big toe like a hammer (I am used to the seats just unfolding easily, not forcefully). So, I had a pretty severe injury to my toe, and was in great pain the whole way to Port au Prince.
I hadn’t planned to take a moto taxi in Port au Prince to the Jacmel station (you get dropped off in one place and have to traverse the city to get to the place where you can board a machine for wherever you are going)---I was planning on taking a tap tap, but now I couldn’t walk and I had 2 backpacks with me. So, I took a taxi. I chose the guy with the most innocent-looking face. He was nice enough, but was incessantly flirting with me the whole time, in a way that was really annoying. Like, “I may as well just die if I can never see you again.” Stuff like that. We drove past the national palace, which is still in ruins, all fallen and crumbled. People living in tents all around. The president doesn’t live there—he lives in Petionville, a part of Port au Prince where the rich people live. Anyway, the other thing was that this guy’s motorcycle must have stalled out like 4 or 5 times along the ride. One time I had to get off and walk across the street, which was hard because I couldn’t walk at all. Another time, we stalled out right as we were driving through a stream of muddy sewage water that smelled like shit. I had my injured tow, and really didn’t want to expose my injury to sewage water. He kept pushing the moto, trying to make it restart. He took one of his sandals off, his foot now in the sewage water, trying to give his moto a push start. Well, finally we got out of there.
Like I said, just another day in Haiti. It seems like it would have been stressful, but it wasn’t. Everything was normal. Just that I had a bad injury and couldn’t walk. Even the scenery in PAP is seeming more and more normal. I am pretty used to Haiti, but PAP is pretty bad. Most people who haven’t lived here wouldn’t be able to imagine it at all. And I don’t want to make it sound bad—this is peoples’ daily reality and daily lives. But, to an outsider who has not been forced to accept this as their life, I perceive Port au Prince as a hellish place to live. What I see is trash everywhere, piles and piles that people have to walk over, piles of trash burning while people are picking through it, tires burning, air pollution, sewage water in the streets, beautiful well-groomed schoolchildren carefully and nimble stepping through the dirty water and trash and mud as they walk to school…huge traffic jams…loud noises…decaying buildings…
Once again, this is not to say that this IS how it is. This is how I perceive it. I am less affected by it now. It used to depress me more.
Blada made a wonderful traditional Haitian food today: bouyon (boullion). It is a kind of soup, with starchy root vegetables, amaranth greens, meat…really special. We don’t know when I will get called to start working in Port au Prince, but I am just enjoying the present moment, living our little life here, making food together in our little house, going to the market and getting produce, negotiating prices, stopping and talking with people in the street…
3-26-12
So, things are moving fast now. We are packing up our house because I did get the job with MSF and will be starting on April 15th. We will still have our little house here but will hardly ever be here—it will be more like a storage room. Hopefully, I will be able to leave once in awhile and we can come here for a weekend. Blada is going to be living mostly in Ti Trou, apprenticing with Mackenzy (organic farming)—he is also probably going to start holding dance classes twice a week in Ti Trou.
We have a lot of organizing to do before we move. When I start with MSF, I will have to follow their security protocol, although they are willing to be somewhat flexible with me about leaving once in awhile. Normally, expats can only leave the residence in an MSF vehicle, to go to work. No walking around Port au Prince, no taking public transportation. This will be very different than how I have lived in Haiti, but it will be a new experience and I accept it. It is part of the new situation, and this new situation is such a blessing and I am so thankful. Blada will be able to visit me at the house on weekends, as long as my housemates and coworkers are not too jealous and upset about it (they don’t get the same flexibility). So, we will play it by ear. I am savoring my time with him, trying not to think about missing him later on.
We went to PAP a few days ago for a final meeting with MSF—I met with the head of mission there. We recently bought a motorcycle—we will sell it before we leave Haiti—now that we will be split between 3 places, it’s more of a necessity. So, we took the moto to PAP. Oh my god, driving in PAP is a nightmare. It is unbelievable. Motos there simply weave between all the other vehicles—huge trucks, cars, other motos, etc. They weave in and out, between vehicles—black smoke everywhere, people darting in and out between lanes—vendors—so much activity. It was stressful but we made it. We got stopped by the police on the way and had to bribe them to get away. Totally normal for here. The whole reason they were stopping people was to fine them—they don’t care if people don’t have all their papers in order or their drivers license or a license place—they make a big deal just to make you pay money so you can go. We had to stand there for like 30 minutes while things worked themselves out. (we don’t have all the papers in order yet for the motorcycle). At first, they were like, “madanm, misye arête”—like, “madam, he is under arrest.” Then it went from that to “you have to leave the motorcycle with us until you get all your papers in order” to Blada talking with one of them over to the side (what they had been waiting for the whole time) and offering a bribe of 300 goudes (about 7-8 USD). The guy was like, “come on, there are 3 of us (3 police sharing the bribe)—so then Blada gave him 500g (about 12.50 USD). After this, their whole demeanor changed, they were friendly, they were understanding, they even gave him their phone numbers in case we got stopped by someone else down the road. So funny. About halfway through PAP, I wiped my face and it was just covered with black soot. Luckily I was travelling with a rag and water, so when we arrived I wiped my face down. Black city grime. Blada’s beard was white from all the dust.
So…yes, things are suddenly moving forward…I am so grateful for this…this means that we will be putting off ourvisa interview until a little later than we thought—I am signing a 9 month contract with MSF—this means we will hopefully be coming up to NC next spring. If all goes well with the visa interview, which I hope and pray it will.
Thank you to all of you for your support and love!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
2/4-3/1/12
2-4-12
Time is passing! I can’t believe we’re already in to February.
Things are getting better, life is happening. Around mid-January I believe is when I started coming out of my depression. It has been slowly receding--still there are moments where I feel really sad about it and when I reflect on the actual reasons and events that led up to this, it can be upsetting, because it is really just so ridiculous--all stemming from lack of communication and misperceptions--it all feels so wrong sometimes--like, this was all a huge mistake--but, nevertheless I want to be happy and appreciate my life for what it is, so I have been trying to move on and look for other things to do.
What have I /we been doing? Here in Jacmel, I am helping at Olive Tree Projects with structural improvements and writing of protocols for the clinic. So, I have been reading a lot which has been good. Also, recently I started going to Leogone (a town south of Port au Prince, it was the epicenter of the earthquake but looks pretty good now)--because a friend of mine named Angela who was a volunteer last year with MWH is there now laying the groundwork for MWH to expand their program there. In Leogone they have these health cluster meetings every 2 weeks where different NGO’s meet & discuss the work they’re doing in effort to coordinate efforts/avoid duplicating each other’s work…the reason I’m going to these is to start putting myself out there, to meet people, in hopes of landing some teaching jobs. I visited a nursing school/hospital with Angela and met with the administrators, who once they knew what I had been doing the past 2 years (teaching Hatiian auxilliares), asked me to come and teach a few classes for their nursing students. This is great--it’s a step in the right direction--but I need to find paying jobs too. All of it is good.
Kanaval has been good…apparently it lasts 1-2 months…we went on the first day and ended up getting painted with black sugar syrup and parading through the streets in a large group of people who were all painted this way…at the end, we arrived at the beach and everyone jumped into the ocean and bathed…so fun!
The people in Jacmel are very easygoing…a lot more friendly and less suspicious than the people in Hinche (in general)…even at Kanaval, no one cared that I was white…it was nice to feel like part of the group…
2-16-12
Things are going well. Kanaval has been interesting. Blada has been out of town for 2 weeks, working with Mackenzie (Kirsty’s partner) on their land in Ti Trou (in the southern part of Haiti). Kirsty is in Canada; she birthed her baby 2 weeks ago and is doing well and hopefully returning soon.
I am lined up to teach a few classes at this hospital & nursing school called Help, in Leogone. Another prospect is that I may be getting a job with MSF Holland, in Port Au Prince (MSF=Medecins sans Frontieres=Doctors without Borders). I met this MSF person at the health cluster meeting a couple of weeks ago and got a contact from her and I actually interviewed 2 days ago in PAP. It would be for an administrative/managerial role, which is somewhat new for me, so it would teach me some things I’m sure. The problem with possible working for them is that Blada and I will have to live apart. For atleast 6 months. I would be able to see him sometimes, like maybe every 2 weeks. This is a huge sacrifice that is really difficult for me to imagine, but at the same time, this seems like an amazing opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up. We will see.
Other good news: our fiance visa petition has been approved, which means that now we are moving into the next phase of the process. The next phase is gathering necessary documents and preparing for the interview at the US embassy in PAP. We are hoping to do the interview around May. After this, if we get the visa, we have to leave Haiti within 6 months. Hopefully getting the visa and working with MSF can both coincide timing-wise.
I have been thinking about what one of the days at Kanaval was like. I never take pictures here--I have very few pictures I’ve ever taken, although believe me all the time I see things that I wish I could record and share with people back home to show what life is like here. I have never felt comfortable taking pictures--I stand out enough as it is, people see me as different enough as it is, they see me as rich and provledged enough as it is…to then be snapping fotos in front of them, it just feels like something someone would do out of complete ignorance or indifference to the situation and power dynamics here. So, this one day at Kanaval, I knew a lot of people would be taking pictures, and I convinced myself to try and take some as well. Jacmel is an historic town, old architecture…Kanaval is interesting…the parade…huge painted paper mache puppets and marionnets and things…I found Kanaval here to be very very touristy…it was clear that a lot of people had come to Jacmel only for Kanaval…lots of white people…just a different scene than I am used to. Well, I took pictures during the day, and then later, during the next few days, was reflecting to myself how I felt about that…actually, it was like I was carrying around a guilty feeling, like I had betrayed something…that was what made me think about it so much…I kind of feel like I missed part fo the spirit of Kanaval because I was taking pictures…and not that anything is so wrong with taking pictures, especially on a day like this, where everyone knows it is a touristy occasion…just food for thought…
Then a few days later I was in a tap tap (public transportation) and there was actually this discussion going on in the tap tap about how NGO’s and white people come here and take pictures of poor people, without asking permission or anything…this guy was talking about it…a lot of people here think that the people who come here and take pictures go back and make money off of them…in some cases that’s true…in some cases they don’t make money but they still are taking something back with them that doesn’t belong to them…and using these images to promote themselves in some way…I have seen people come in with the most entitled attitudes, it is unbelievable…a couple months ago Blada and I were on the beach, and this white guy arrived, and he had a big camera in his hands…he didn’t look at anyone or say hi to anyone, except after a few minutes he came right up to me and shook my hand and started asking me questions….he was a journalist, doing a piece about “tourism in Haiti”--I was feeling uncomfortable because he hadn’t Agno ledged anyone else who was there, just me…I didn’t want to be a part of that…so, he walked away, and then…without saying anything, just started snapping fotos of the kids on the beach who were practicing flips on the sand…we left.
Anyway…just something to think about…
When I was in Port au Prince I saw an image that will never leave my mind--it was the kind of image that would have made a very compelling photo. In a tap tap, crossing an intersection. The road intersecting us was Martin Luther King Blvd. Right next to the road sign, was a very old woman holding a bowl (asking for money) in one hand…the other arm was horribly disfigured…it looked like it had been completely twisted around--and broken--from above her elbow--and never fixed. It was just hanging there, with the palm of her hand facing the wrong direction. We want to think that we have come so far past racism, but seeing an image as ironic as this, seeing such raw suffering right next to the name of someone who brought the movement forward so far and is remembered and honored for that…it is ironic. We have so far to go. The people here are still in chains. Poverty is a form of violence.
3-1-12
February went by so fast. Things are going better now than they were in Dec-Jan. Those were hard months! Finally, things seem to really be picking up and new opportunities are arising.
It has been nice visiting with an old schoolmate from Maternidad La Luz--for about the past month. Her name is Olivia, and we were in midwifery school together like 9 years ago. She is in Jacmel with her beautiful baby, Zora. Strong lady, coming to Haiti by herself with her baby! She has an organization called Earth Birth that is partnering with Mother Health International, which is the org that has been running the other birth center in Jacmel (there are 2). So, they moved locations and Olivia has been working really hard for the past month to make lots of things happen. We’ve been visiting and sharing lots of stories, and it’s been so great. It’s really cool seeing how drastically we both have grown and changed since we knew each other in midwifery school.
She has been hoping that I could work for their birth center--they have 4-5 Haitian midwifery apprentices who need more attention & training…it is nice to be wanted! But I do have my sights set right now on working with MSF in Port au Prince, and it is still uncertain but seems to be in the works. This would be such a good opportunity for me and I feel I can’t pass it by. Of course, I have mixed feelings because living apart from Blada will be hard…and we will have to put off starting a family still…but also, this feels like it will be so god for each of us, because we each will grow & develop ourselves in ways that are important (Blada will hopefully be apprenticing with Mackenzy, Kirsty’s partner, who is a master agronomist).
I taught my first class at Help nursing school a few days ago. It was on breech birth. It went really, really well. The staff was so happy with it (the head of nursing sat in on the class--I think they were already interested in me but wanted to verify if I could actually do a good job teaching)--that they started talking with me about becoming an integral part of their faculty! Teaching more classes, helping with clinical training of their students, attending events, etc. I dropped by yesterday before the Health Cluster meeting, to give them my CV, which they had requested, and the director officially introduced me to people there as a new staff member! They are making a file for me, an ID badge, etc. It is amazing, because all I had done originally was offer to teach 2 classes for them, and everything else from there has been their effort. It is very encouraging.
I really like Help, because it is well-organized and all Haitian-run. It’s awesome!! They have partner NGO’s and they receive funding from them, but, on the ground, it is all Haitian run. They do a wide array of community health services. They do health education, mental health services, rape crisis, community education, among others. Very impressive.
Another wonderful event that has left me in greater peace than before is that I finally met with the directors of MWH face-to-face this week. The reason they met with me was because it was strongly recommended to them by a volunteer who was laying groundwork/networking for MWH in Leogone (they will be replicating the training program there starting this September) that after she leaves, they contract with me to attend Health Cluster meetings as their representative, so that other NGO’s there (who MWH hopes to partner with) will see a continued presence and interest. So, this is happening now and I am glad. Meeting with them, for me, was helpful because I have been longing for resolution and closure. This happened to the extent that was possible. And, the fact that I am contracted to represent them in Leogone is good because it shows that we are not burning bridges.
I am finally going to visit Hinche! Next week. So so excited. Everyone there is too. I will get to see Marthonie and everyone else!
Time is passing! I can’t believe we’re already in to February.
Things are getting better, life is happening. Around mid-January I believe is when I started coming out of my depression. It has been slowly receding--still there are moments where I feel really sad about it and when I reflect on the actual reasons and events that led up to this, it can be upsetting, because it is really just so ridiculous--all stemming from lack of communication and misperceptions--it all feels so wrong sometimes--like, this was all a huge mistake--but, nevertheless I want to be happy and appreciate my life for what it is, so I have been trying to move on and look for other things to do.
What have I /we been doing? Here in Jacmel, I am helping at Olive Tree Projects with structural improvements and writing of protocols for the clinic. So, I have been reading a lot which has been good. Also, recently I started going to Leogone (a town south of Port au Prince, it was the epicenter of the earthquake but looks pretty good now)--because a friend of mine named Angela who was a volunteer last year with MWH is there now laying the groundwork for MWH to expand their program there. In Leogone they have these health cluster meetings every 2 weeks where different NGO’s meet & discuss the work they’re doing in effort to coordinate efforts/avoid duplicating each other’s work…the reason I’m going to these is to start putting myself out there, to meet people, in hopes of landing some teaching jobs. I visited a nursing school/hospital with Angela and met with the administrators, who once they knew what I had been doing the past 2 years (teaching Hatiian auxilliares), asked me to come and teach a few classes for their nursing students. This is great--it’s a step in the right direction--but I need to find paying jobs too. All of it is good.
Kanaval has been good…apparently it lasts 1-2 months…we went on the first day and ended up getting painted with black sugar syrup and parading through the streets in a large group of people who were all painted this way…at the end, we arrived at the beach and everyone jumped into the ocean and bathed…so fun!
The people in Jacmel are very easygoing…a lot more friendly and less suspicious than the people in Hinche (in general)…even at Kanaval, no one cared that I was white…it was nice to feel like part of the group…
2-16-12
Things are going well. Kanaval has been interesting. Blada has been out of town for 2 weeks, working with Mackenzie (Kirsty’s partner) on their land in Ti Trou (in the southern part of Haiti). Kirsty is in Canada; she birthed her baby 2 weeks ago and is doing well and hopefully returning soon.
I am lined up to teach a few classes at this hospital & nursing school called Help, in Leogone. Another prospect is that I may be getting a job with MSF Holland, in Port Au Prince (MSF=Medecins sans Frontieres=Doctors without Borders). I met this MSF person at the health cluster meeting a couple of weeks ago and got a contact from her and I actually interviewed 2 days ago in PAP. It would be for an administrative/managerial role, which is somewhat new for me, so it would teach me some things I’m sure. The problem with possible working for them is that Blada and I will have to live apart. For atleast 6 months. I would be able to see him sometimes, like maybe every 2 weeks. This is a huge sacrifice that is really difficult for me to imagine, but at the same time, this seems like an amazing opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up. We will see.
Other good news: our fiance visa petition has been approved, which means that now we are moving into the next phase of the process. The next phase is gathering necessary documents and preparing for the interview at the US embassy in PAP. We are hoping to do the interview around May. After this, if we get the visa, we have to leave Haiti within 6 months. Hopefully getting the visa and working with MSF can both coincide timing-wise.
I have been thinking about what one of the days at Kanaval was like. I never take pictures here--I have very few pictures I’ve ever taken, although believe me all the time I see things that I wish I could record and share with people back home to show what life is like here. I have never felt comfortable taking pictures--I stand out enough as it is, people see me as different enough as it is, they see me as rich and provledged enough as it is…to then be snapping fotos in front of them, it just feels like something someone would do out of complete ignorance or indifference to the situation and power dynamics here. So, this one day at Kanaval, I knew a lot of people would be taking pictures, and I convinced myself to try and take some as well. Jacmel is an historic town, old architecture…Kanaval is interesting…the parade…huge painted paper mache puppets and marionnets and things…I found Kanaval here to be very very touristy…it was clear that a lot of people had come to Jacmel only for Kanaval…lots of white people…just a different scene than I am used to. Well, I took pictures during the day, and then later, during the next few days, was reflecting to myself how I felt about that…actually, it was like I was carrying around a guilty feeling, like I had betrayed something…that was what made me think about it so much…I kind of feel like I missed part fo the spirit of Kanaval because I was taking pictures…and not that anything is so wrong with taking pictures, especially on a day like this, where everyone knows it is a touristy occasion…just food for thought…
Then a few days later I was in a tap tap (public transportation) and there was actually this discussion going on in the tap tap about how NGO’s and white people come here and take pictures of poor people, without asking permission or anything…this guy was talking about it…a lot of people here think that the people who come here and take pictures go back and make money off of them…in some cases that’s true…in some cases they don’t make money but they still are taking something back with them that doesn’t belong to them…and using these images to promote themselves in some way…I have seen people come in with the most entitled attitudes, it is unbelievable…a couple months ago Blada and I were on the beach, and this white guy arrived, and he had a big camera in his hands…he didn’t look at anyone or say hi to anyone, except after a few minutes he came right up to me and shook my hand and started asking me questions….he was a journalist, doing a piece about “tourism in Haiti”--I was feeling uncomfortable because he hadn’t Agno ledged anyone else who was there, just me…I didn’t want to be a part of that…so, he walked away, and then…without saying anything, just started snapping fotos of the kids on the beach who were practicing flips on the sand…we left.
Anyway…just something to think about…
When I was in Port au Prince I saw an image that will never leave my mind--it was the kind of image that would have made a very compelling photo. In a tap tap, crossing an intersection. The road intersecting us was Martin Luther King Blvd. Right next to the road sign, was a very old woman holding a bowl (asking for money) in one hand…the other arm was horribly disfigured…it looked like it had been completely twisted around--and broken--from above her elbow--and never fixed. It was just hanging there, with the palm of her hand facing the wrong direction. We want to think that we have come so far past racism, but seeing an image as ironic as this, seeing such raw suffering right next to the name of someone who brought the movement forward so far and is remembered and honored for that…it is ironic. We have so far to go. The people here are still in chains. Poverty is a form of violence.
3-1-12
February went by so fast. Things are going better now than they were in Dec-Jan. Those were hard months! Finally, things seem to really be picking up and new opportunities are arising.
It has been nice visiting with an old schoolmate from Maternidad La Luz--for about the past month. Her name is Olivia, and we were in midwifery school together like 9 years ago. She is in Jacmel with her beautiful baby, Zora. Strong lady, coming to Haiti by herself with her baby! She has an organization called Earth Birth that is partnering with Mother Health International, which is the org that has been running the other birth center in Jacmel (there are 2). So, they moved locations and Olivia has been working really hard for the past month to make lots of things happen. We’ve been visiting and sharing lots of stories, and it’s been so great. It’s really cool seeing how drastically we both have grown and changed since we knew each other in midwifery school.
She has been hoping that I could work for their birth center--they have 4-5 Haitian midwifery apprentices who need more attention & training…it is nice to be wanted! But I do have my sights set right now on working with MSF in Port au Prince, and it is still uncertain but seems to be in the works. This would be such a good opportunity for me and I feel I can’t pass it by. Of course, I have mixed feelings because living apart from Blada will be hard…and we will have to put off starting a family still…but also, this feels like it will be so god for each of us, because we each will grow & develop ourselves in ways that are important (Blada will hopefully be apprenticing with Mackenzy, Kirsty’s partner, who is a master agronomist).
I taught my first class at Help nursing school a few days ago. It was on breech birth. It went really, really well. The staff was so happy with it (the head of nursing sat in on the class--I think they were already interested in me but wanted to verify if I could actually do a good job teaching)--that they started talking with me about becoming an integral part of their faculty! Teaching more classes, helping with clinical training of their students, attending events, etc. I dropped by yesterday before the Health Cluster meeting, to give them my CV, which they had requested, and the director officially introduced me to people there as a new staff member! They are making a file for me, an ID badge, etc. It is amazing, because all I had done originally was offer to teach 2 classes for them, and everything else from there has been their effort. It is very encouraging.
I really like Help, because it is well-organized and all Haitian-run. It’s awesome!! They have partner NGO’s and they receive funding from them, but, on the ground, it is all Haitian run. They do a wide array of community health services. They do health education, mental health services, rape crisis, community education, among others. Very impressive.
Another wonderful event that has left me in greater peace than before is that I finally met with the directors of MWH face-to-face this week. The reason they met with me was because it was strongly recommended to them by a volunteer who was laying groundwork/networking for MWH in Leogone (they will be replicating the training program there starting this September) that after she leaves, they contract with me to attend Health Cluster meetings as their representative, so that other NGO’s there (who MWH hopes to partner with) will see a continued presence and interest. So, this is happening now and I am glad. Meeting with them, for me, was helpful because I have been longing for resolution and closure. This happened to the extent that was possible. And, the fact that I am contracted to represent them in Leogone is good because it shows that we are not burning bridges.
I am finally going to visit Hinche! Next week. So so excited. Everyone there is too. I will get to see Marthonie and everyone else!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
12/18/11-1/10/11
12/18/11
I have not been able to sit down and start writing for awhile. The month of October was quick, and things have been tumultuous since my return. I don’t really want to go into great detail here but basically, when I returned to Haiti in late September, after having been in the US to get my affairs straight so that I could come back and stay for longer, and after having 2 successful fundraisers for my work in Hinche and the work of Midwives for Haiti, I found out that there was a very deep rift that had grown between those of us living and working on the ground, and those who live and manage the organization from the US. This misunderstanding had already transformed into something so complicated and perverse, without my knowledge of its existence at all, that by the time I found out about it, it was too late. Very sadly, for everyone, the way the situation came down was that there was irrevocable damage done and I left Hinche. This was devastating for me, and I am still recovering from the shock of it, and still missing people a lot, such as Marthonie, who was my loved and trusted co-teacher. I had grown so used to working with her, and we had such an amazing, collaborative, tolerant, and trusting relationship. She is not the only one, but the main one.
I haven’t been able to say anything or write anything, because I have just been in shock about how abruptly my life changed, and have been mourning a great, great loss. I had not foreseen this happening, but in a way something like this is not surprising, given the overall situation that the organization was functioning within (such as the fact that I was living full-time with all the short-term volunteers with no personal space/boundaries/privacy, lack of communication between myself and the directors about issues…it‘s complex).
I have wanted to let all of you know that I am ok, and Blada is ok. But, so far I haven’t been able to say anything, because I have just been in a state of perpetual mourning. I am trying to move forward and move through this transition and accept the loss and also the blessings that will inevitably come out of this. I am starting to see it more in this light, although the truth of what happened and the feelings of betrayel and loss that go along with it will always inevitably stand out in my memory and emotional landscape. Perhaps there will be a way in the future to work with MWH, perhaps in a different context or setting, although I miss the people in Hinche so much and had spent 2 years literally building bridges and trust through working daily with the people there.
Often I have felt like I am dragging my feet, and like I should just get over it and continue and have faith, because that is what I see Blada doing. He is doing fine. This has been sad for him too--we lost our community, and he witnessed my sorrow and held me through it since the beginning of this change. So, he is very strong and resilient, and adaptable. One main reason for this is that he is Haitian. Haitians, most of them, have spent their whole lives having to accept many injustices and hardships as normal life events, and have even cultivated an amazing capacity for joy and humor, which they exercise all of the time (they can laugh and have a great time doing anything…) so, as Blada put it to me, so honestly, he has never had the luxury of escaping the reality here (he can’t just take a vacation from it like I can if I want), and for his whole life he has had to accept hardship and if he allowed himself to dwell on things as much as I do, he would have gone crazy by now. It’s really true. Maybe part of the difference is that I’m a woman too, and I process things differently and definetly live more in the realm of my emotions than he does…but I think it’s not just that, it’s also part of my upbringing and life experience as a North American…you have the luxury to ponder and process your feelings….
To illustrate this difference even more, I will give 2 examples of people I know who recently experienced great loss and nevertheless are living their normal lives…a Haitian midwife I know, before we left Hinche, I heard from someone else that her father had just been murdered--hacked apart by someone with a machete--over something that had to do with land rights/ownership. Yes--her father was murdered. I saw her the same week or the next week, and never would have known if someone elsehadn’t told me. She seemed normal, and was working every day. Haitians have a way of compartmentalizing their grief, so that they can continue functioning and living. I think part of this could be the fact that when someone dies, there is definetly an acceptable time and place for intense grieving, with no restraint. People grieve intensely when someone dies. But somehow after this, they move on, and at least seem to be ok. Another time, shortly before we left, we had a friend who was in the house who suddenly we all could hear she was crying--weeping--and calling out to her father over and over. Finally I approached her to ask her what was wrong. She told me that today marked the 10 year anniversary since her father went missing, in Port au Prince. After this day, no one ever heard from him again. Probably on this same day, every year, she grieves this way for him. Maybe this way she is able to function normally the rest of the days. I don’t know, and I’m not attempting to analyze or name anything about Haitians or Haitian culture--I have tremendous respect and humility towards it--I’m just citing a couple of examples of my experience here that gives rise to my small sliver of understanding of the people here.
So, I can’t and shouldn’t compare myself with Blada, because we come from such different cultures and life experiences. Things will work out and I do realize how very lucky and privileged I am, to still have so many choices, in reality, and such a good standard of living…we have a little house, which we love…it’s private, peaceful…just the 2 of us…it has a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. But it is big enough. It is lovely. We have water, part-time electricity, and even a stove and fridge!!! It is on the same compound and right behind a little birth center, started by a friend of ours named Sarah--she’s a Canadian MW who’s been living in Haiti for about 4 years, and has an organization called Olive Tree Projects. The situation here is pretty relaxed and slow-paced. I am helping her out in the birth center and hoping to make improvements to its functionality. I am also teaching classes for a group of women who she would like to train as MW assistants for her clinic.
In addition to this, I am volunteering part-time at the public hospital here. I miss the hospital in Hinche too much…I don’t want to be completely isolated from what I came to know as my work in Haiti. So, I have started going. The problem is, I am starting over completely from scratch--no one knows me or trusts me yet--it took me a long time to establish trust with the staff at St Therese in Hinche, and now I am starting over completely with a whole new group of people at St Michel in Jacmel…some of them are nicer than others…things could change but there is definetly one Dr, a female OB, who is very angry and hostile (towards everyone--especially the patients)--that’s kind of her reputation overall, so I don’t have any hope of her warming up to me…but, maybe I can make allies with some of the other people…there are a couple of male OB’s, and several nurses…they are much more well-staffed and well-equipped with materials than St Therese…it’s very different…similar but different…I assisted in 2 births there yesterday…I guess I have been partially hardened to the sadness of seeing women mistreated in the most vulnerable moment of their life (labor/birth)--so, I wasn’t surprised by what I saw and am doing my best to remain neutral, nonjudgmental, and hopeful as well…but, I couldn’t help but notice the hostility towards the 2 women and even yelling and hitting of the second…the first one got an episiotomy and fundal pressure (with normal fetal heart tones and the head still not through the bones)…anyway, it is what it is and I am very honored that I am allowed to enter into the space at the public hospital and witness in, participate in, peoples’ care there…it is a new challenge; I have no delusions about changing anything there, but it will be interesting for me…maybe there will be a few meaningful things that can be exchanged, once trust has been established…we will see…
What else is different about Jacmel…I feel like I left part of my family in Hinche…especially the hospital staff and my co-teachers in MWH…Marthonie, Genette…I miss them so much…I have learned so much from them…they are remarkable beacons of light and knowledge…I have so much respect for them and for everyone back there, working in such a hard situation at the hospital…
Here in Jacmel, it is apparent not only in the hospital but everywhere on the street: the standard of living is a lot better than in Hinche. For one, there is electricity. People have their little shops that have lights on at night. People just seem more at ease, like they are struggling less. People have a different attitude towards me on the street as well--they don’t seem to notice me too much. This may sound like nothing but this is huge to me. It is such a relief. I am learning that I don’t have to be so on guard emotionally. It is so nice.
The beach is close, which is a huge blessing and so therapeutic. I love it.
Another gem here is the gay community--yes, that’s right. Jacmel is kind of hip. I was introduced to this art collective--that’s right--where they have these free dance classes (Haitian folklore (vodou) dance--similar to African dancing)--yes, that’s right--free dance practice sessions with most of the participants being flamboyant gay guys--who are so, so sweet and accepting and welcoming--it’s a community that I had missed--and it is here in Jacmel. So refreshing. The atmosphere is all about acceptance. They have art classes there too--all kinds of art--it’s a really really cool place--an old building--funky--like the way a lot of cafes and art studios in the US try to look--this place just is--you go up an ancient staircase (there’s a lot of old French architecture here) to the top level, which lost its back wall in the earthquake…
What else…yes, just trying to be hopeful about things working out, finding my niche, having true resolution and healing with MWH, etc. Since I have more free time on my hands, I am starting again to study French a little (mostly by listening to RFI online)--the internet here is faster so more things are possible…also I’ve been doing a lot of reading and research online, about midwifery and anatomy & physiology…I am learning a lot and it’s exciting--I’m not retaining everything but I’m hoping that some of the concepts will remain and that maybe they’ll be more familiar if someday I am able to go to nursing school…so, I’m doing what I can to make good use of my time…
Blada is making good use of his time…he found an artist to apprentice with and is learning how to paint and helping with other projects…it’s all useful…it’s all progressive…
That’s about all for now. Loving all of you and thanking you for your love and support.
12-31-11
We had a quiet Christmas--very, very quiet. Now, we just got back a couple of days ago from visiting our friends Kirsty and Mackenzy who have land way out in the country (well, next to a small town) in southern Haiti…it was beautiful there…so refreshing…beautiful black earth, sweet air and sweet earth smells…more trees…beautiful. Now we’re back in Jacmel, relaxing and continuing with our activities here. I stayed up all night helping in a difficult labor and birth the day we got back--it was good--good outcome in the end, after a long, hard labor…it’s amazing what some women go through in their labors…I haven’t been going to the hospital as much as I’d like to--I’m too tired sometimes, and also it’s not easy, because like I said I’m brand new there and I’m all alone with no allies…it’s hard.
Working in the birth center is interesting. It is so different than what I had been doing in Hinche. There are things about it that are nice and also things that are hard. Some of the differences are kind of funny, and I don’t mind adapting to them. Each of the births have been interesting and beautiful, and sometimes they remind me of what births used to be like at Maternidad La Luz, where I trained and worked for 6 ½ years before coming to Haiti. In the sense that we know the women, the clients, and it is personal, and they are supported with kindness, and their families are welcomed and encouraged to participate. There is something so special about this.
1-10-12
However, I have not settled into being here, working here--it’s not an automatic thing, and I don’t feel so at ease. I don’t have anyone I can really relate to on the same level as a MW. I miss my people in Hinche. I miss the meaningful work that I was participating in. I still can’t believe that it is all suddenly gone. It doesn’t feel right at all. I feel like I should be there, working and teaching alongside Marthonie and Genette. I don’t have a community here yet. It takes time to find your place and build trust. Plus, the overall approach to the model of care provided is not congruent with who I am as a MW based on my knowledge and experience, so…I am just trying to do what I can to help, reminding myself that this is someone else’s project and I am not responsible for anything more than what I can do. Hopefully I can help to initiate lots of growth and improvement in different areas.
I am publishing this because I know that many of you want to know what’s going on here. Unfortunately I don’t have any better news to give--it is what it is. All I can do is continue on, hope for the best, do my best.
We don’t know what will happen this year and next year--with work, with our life…when our visa will come through…anything…once again I compare my uncertainty and stress with that of the people here, and it looks like nothing…but it is something, it is my experience.
I have not been able to sit down and start writing for awhile. The month of October was quick, and things have been tumultuous since my return. I don’t really want to go into great detail here but basically, when I returned to Haiti in late September, after having been in the US to get my affairs straight so that I could come back and stay for longer, and after having 2 successful fundraisers for my work in Hinche and the work of Midwives for Haiti, I found out that there was a very deep rift that had grown between those of us living and working on the ground, and those who live and manage the organization from the US. This misunderstanding had already transformed into something so complicated and perverse, without my knowledge of its existence at all, that by the time I found out about it, it was too late. Very sadly, for everyone, the way the situation came down was that there was irrevocable damage done and I left Hinche. This was devastating for me, and I am still recovering from the shock of it, and still missing people a lot, such as Marthonie, who was my loved and trusted co-teacher. I had grown so used to working with her, and we had such an amazing, collaborative, tolerant, and trusting relationship. She is not the only one, but the main one.
I haven’t been able to say anything or write anything, because I have just been in shock about how abruptly my life changed, and have been mourning a great, great loss. I had not foreseen this happening, but in a way something like this is not surprising, given the overall situation that the organization was functioning within (such as the fact that I was living full-time with all the short-term volunteers with no personal space/boundaries/privacy, lack of communication between myself and the directors about issues…it‘s complex).
I have wanted to let all of you know that I am ok, and Blada is ok. But, so far I haven’t been able to say anything, because I have just been in a state of perpetual mourning. I am trying to move forward and move through this transition and accept the loss and also the blessings that will inevitably come out of this. I am starting to see it more in this light, although the truth of what happened and the feelings of betrayel and loss that go along with it will always inevitably stand out in my memory and emotional landscape. Perhaps there will be a way in the future to work with MWH, perhaps in a different context or setting, although I miss the people in Hinche so much and had spent 2 years literally building bridges and trust through working daily with the people there.
Often I have felt like I am dragging my feet, and like I should just get over it and continue and have faith, because that is what I see Blada doing. He is doing fine. This has been sad for him too--we lost our community, and he witnessed my sorrow and held me through it since the beginning of this change. So, he is very strong and resilient, and adaptable. One main reason for this is that he is Haitian. Haitians, most of them, have spent their whole lives having to accept many injustices and hardships as normal life events, and have even cultivated an amazing capacity for joy and humor, which they exercise all of the time (they can laugh and have a great time doing anything…) so, as Blada put it to me, so honestly, he has never had the luxury of escaping the reality here (he can’t just take a vacation from it like I can if I want), and for his whole life he has had to accept hardship and if he allowed himself to dwell on things as much as I do, he would have gone crazy by now. It’s really true. Maybe part of the difference is that I’m a woman too, and I process things differently and definetly live more in the realm of my emotions than he does…but I think it’s not just that, it’s also part of my upbringing and life experience as a North American…you have the luxury to ponder and process your feelings….
To illustrate this difference even more, I will give 2 examples of people I know who recently experienced great loss and nevertheless are living their normal lives…a Haitian midwife I know, before we left Hinche, I heard from someone else that her father had just been murdered--hacked apart by someone with a machete--over something that had to do with land rights/ownership. Yes--her father was murdered. I saw her the same week or the next week, and never would have known if someone elsehadn’t told me. She seemed normal, and was working every day. Haitians have a way of compartmentalizing their grief, so that they can continue functioning and living. I think part of this could be the fact that when someone dies, there is definetly an acceptable time and place for intense grieving, with no restraint. People grieve intensely when someone dies. But somehow after this, they move on, and at least seem to be ok. Another time, shortly before we left, we had a friend who was in the house who suddenly we all could hear she was crying--weeping--and calling out to her father over and over. Finally I approached her to ask her what was wrong. She told me that today marked the 10 year anniversary since her father went missing, in Port au Prince. After this day, no one ever heard from him again. Probably on this same day, every year, she grieves this way for him. Maybe this way she is able to function normally the rest of the days. I don’t know, and I’m not attempting to analyze or name anything about Haitians or Haitian culture--I have tremendous respect and humility towards it--I’m just citing a couple of examples of my experience here that gives rise to my small sliver of understanding of the people here.
So, I can’t and shouldn’t compare myself with Blada, because we come from such different cultures and life experiences. Things will work out and I do realize how very lucky and privileged I am, to still have so many choices, in reality, and such a good standard of living…we have a little house, which we love…it’s private, peaceful…just the 2 of us…it has a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. But it is big enough. It is lovely. We have water, part-time electricity, and even a stove and fridge!!! It is on the same compound and right behind a little birth center, started by a friend of ours named Sarah--she’s a Canadian MW who’s been living in Haiti for about 4 years, and has an organization called Olive Tree Projects. The situation here is pretty relaxed and slow-paced. I am helping her out in the birth center and hoping to make improvements to its functionality. I am also teaching classes for a group of women who she would like to train as MW assistants for her clinic.
In addition to this, I am volunteering part-time at the public hospital here. I miss the hospital in Hinche too much…I don’t want to be completely isolated from what I came to know as my work in Haiti. So, I have started going. The problem is, I am starting over completely from scratch--no one knows me or trusts me yet--it took me a long time to establish trust with the staff at St Therese in Hinche, and now I am starting over completely with a whole new group of people at St Michel in Jacmel…some of them are nicer than others…things could change but there is definetly one Dr, a female OB, who is very angry and hostile (towards everyone--especially the patients)--that’s kind of her reputation overall, so I don’t have any hope of her warming up to me…but, maybe I can make allies with some of the other people…there are a couple of male OB’s, and several nurses…they are much more well-staffed and well-equipped with materials than St Therese…it’s very different…similar but different…I assisted in 2 births there yesterday…I guess I have been partially hardened to the sadness of seeing women mistreated in the most vulnerable moment of their life (labor/birth)--so, I wasn’t surprised by what I saw and am doing my best to remain neutral, nonjudgmental, and hopeful as well…but, I couldn’t help but notice the hostility towards the 2 women and even yelling and hitting of the second…the first one got an episiotomy and fundal pressure (with normal fetal heart tones and the head still not through the bones)…anyway, it is what it is and I am very honored that I am allowed to enter into the space at the public hospital and witness in, participate in, peoples’ care there…it is a new challenge; I have no delusions about changing anything there, but it will be interesting for me…maybe there will be a few meaningful things that can be exchanged, once trust has been established…we will see…
What else is different about Jacmel…I feel like I left part of my family in Hinche…especially the hospital staff and my co-teachers in MWH…Marthonie, Genette…I miss them so much…I have learned so much from them…they are remarkable beacons of light and knowledge…I have so much respect for them and for everyone back there, working in such a hard situation at the hospital…
Here in Jacmel, it is apparent not only in the hospital but everywhere on the street: the standard of living is a lot better than in Hinche. For one, there is electricity. People have their little shops that have lights on at night. People just seem more at ease, like they are struggling less. People have a different attitude towards me on the street as well--they don’t seem to notice me too much. This may sound like nothing but this is huge to me. It is such a relief. I am learning that I don’t have to be so on guard emotionally. It is so nice.
The beach is close, which is a huge blessing and so therapeutic. I love it.
Another gem here is the gay community--yes, that’s right. Jacmel is kind of hip. I was introduced to this art collective--that’s right--where they have these free dance classes (Haitian folklore (vodou) dance--similar to African dancing)--yes, that’s right--free dance practice sessions with most of the participants being flamboyant gay guys--who are so, so sweet and accepting and welcoming--it’s a community that I had missed--and it is here in Jacmel. So refreshing. The atmosphere is all about acceptance. They have art classes there too--all kinds of art--it’s a really really cool place--an old building--funky--like the way a lot of cafes and art studios in the US try to look--this place just is--you go up an ancient staircase (there’s a lot of old French architecture here) to the top level, which lost its back wall in the earthquake…
What else…yes, just trying to be hopeful about things working out, finding my niche, having true resolution and healing with MWH, etc. Since I have more free time on my hands, I am starting again to study French a little (mostly by listening to RFI online)--the internet here is faster so more things are possible…also I’ve been doing a lot of reading and research online, about midwifery and anatomy & physiology…I am learning a lot and it’s exciting--I’m not retaining everything but I’m hoping that some of the concepts will remain and that maybe they’ll be more familiar if someday I am able to go to nursing school…so, I’m doing what I can to make good use of my time…
Blada is making good use of his time…he found an artist to apprentice with and is learning how to paint and helping with other projects…it’s all useful…it’s all progressive…
That’s about all for now. Loving all of you and thanking you for your love and support.
12-31-11
We had a quiet Christmas--very, very quiet. Now, we just got back a couple of days ago from visiting our friends Kirsty and Mackenzy who have land way out in the country (well, next to a small town) in southern Haiti…it was beautiful there…so refreshing…beautiful black earth, sweet air and sweet earth smells…more trees…beautiful. Now we’re back in Jacmel, relaxing and continuing with our activities here. I stayed up all night helping in a difficult labor and birth the day we got back--it was good--good outcome in the end, after a long, hard labor…it’s amazing what some women go through in their labors…I haven’t been going to the hospital as much as I’d like to--I’m too tired sometimes, and also it’s not easy, because like I said I’m brand new there and I’m all alone with no allies…it’s hard.
Working in the birth center is interesting. It is so different than what I had been doing in Hinche. There are things about it that are nice and also things that are hard. Some of the differences are kind of funny, and I don’t mind adapting to them. Each of the births have been interesting and beautiful, and sometimes they remind me of what births used to be like at Maternidad La Luz, where I trained and worked for 6 ½ years before coming to Haiti. In the sense that we know the women, the clients, and it is personal, and they are supported with kindness, and their families are welcomed and encouraged to participate. There is something so special about this.
1-10-12
However, I have not settled into being here, working here--it’s not an automatic thing, and I don’t feel so at ease. I don’t have anyone I can really relate to on the same level as a MW. I miss my people in Hinche. I miss the meaningful work that I was participating in. I still can’t believe that it is all suddenly gone. It doesn’t feel right at all. I feel like I should be there, working and teaching alongside Marthonie and Genette. I don’t have a community here yet. It takes time to find your place and build trust. Plus, the overall approach to the model of care provided is not congruent with who I am as a MW based on my knowledge and experience, so…I am just trying to do what I can to help, reminding myself that this is someone else’s project and I am not responsible for anything more than what I can do. Hopefully I can help to initiate lots of growth and improvement in different areas.
I am publishing this because I know that many of you want to know what’s going on here. Unfortunately I don’t have any better news to give--it is what it is. All I can do is continue on, hope for the best, do my best.
We don’t know what will happen this year and next year--with work, with our life…when our visa will come through…anything…once again I compare my uncertainty and stress with that of the people here, and it looks like nothing…but it is something, it is my experience.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Blog 10/24/-10/29/11
10/24/11
Each week, there are more things that get added onto the list of things I wanted to write about in my next blog. I have been so busy, and there have been so many changes since the time I departed from Haiti and returned, that I don’t even know how to start.
I was gone for 7 weeks. It was important to go--I had a lot to do--but so hard to be away from Haiti, my students, Marthonie, Genette, Blada…everyone. I have felt so relieved since I returned, a few weeks ago. The students are preparing for graduation. They are now coming over every afternoon (M-F) after working at the hospital to practice their singing and dancing, for graduation. 10 months is a very short time to prepare midwives to work competently. Most of them can’t suture on their own, for example. But, I am very proud of them and what they have accomplished. The first week I returned, at Case Studies class, which we have every Friday afternoon, I just stood back to hear them talk about cases from the week…I was so impressed and pleased to hear how they were discussing between themselves different births and situations they’d dealt with, sharing information…it was really a joy to see this upon first returning, and made me feel so proud of them and hopeful for them.
The money that the community in NC helped me to raise has already begun to be distributed into the hands of many. I can’t even remember everyone so far, but there are always people who are in an urgent situation and just need 5-10 dollars to make it out safely. I’ve never had this luxury before, of being able to help anyone who needs it, and of being more liberal with the amount. A few examples of people I’ve been able to help:
--a 14th-timer, who came in drenched in blood, who had a placenta previa (where the placenta is located right upon the cervix, instead of higher up in the uterus)--luckily, everyone was there when she came in, and we ran around and prepared her for a cesarean really fast…we even got a requisition for blood delivered to the Red Cross…she went into surgery and got a blood transfusion before coming out of the OR…well, she had come from far away and her family didn’t even have 1 clean sheet to put on her bed in the Post-op room. Not even a sheet. Her mother took all the blood-drenched sheets and clothes that they had and walked to the rive to wash them. I gave them some money so they could buy food for the patient and for themselves. It was so clear that they had come with nothing. Thank god, the OR is functioning now. Before I left Haiti, there was no electricity at all and no OR. If this had happened 3 months ago, she would have died in our arms. She knew this. She and her family were very very thankful for the care that was given to her.
--there was a woman who approached me as I was leaving the hospital maybe 2 weeks ago…she is living with AIDS. Her legs were covered with sores that weren’t healing. She is in the HIV program that’s run by Zanmi Asante (Partners in Health)--but she said that they haven’t renewed her card that gives her an allowance for free food. She has children that she takes care of at home. She was so destitute, so poor. In the past, I would have rejected her because she was not in an acute, life-threatening situation. I would have chosen to wait for someone who was more urgent. But, I was able to give her some money for food. Probably about 10 dollars US. She was very thankful. I told her that people in the US had put money together, because when I showed them pictures of the hospital and explained how it was, they cried and wanted to help.
--Right after this, there was an old man in a wheelchair who was skinny and sick--I don’t kn ow with what, but he had a foley catheter in place because he had some kind of urinary obstruction and couldn’t pee on his own and was getting swollen in his abdomwn--he is probably about 70 years old. He didn’t ask me for money, but I could tell he was destitute--I was asking him if he had family in town, who took care of him--he said he has no one. No one to take care of him, to bring him food…he’s just suffering on his own.
People at the hospital, some of them give him food when they bring food for their own family members. So, I gave him some money. He was so so appreciative.
--After this, there were 2 other people who wanted to ask me for money (they hadn’t seen me give him money but I think they knew I had given the HIV+ woman money) and I just had to go after that. I’m not down with people lining up asking me for money. One woman, she was maybe 60 years old, and just wanted a few dollars to buy a new pair of sandals. Hers were totally broken, her toes sticking out. This is most people here though. I didn’t give her any money. Later, I thought maybe I should have.
I don’t want to give people money myself. I want to let the students give people money. I don’t want to reinforce the example of white people always having a lot of money and giving handouts, but so far, I have given some people money myself. I have tried to explain to them that it’s not my money--that lots of people in the US put small amounts of money together to send down to help individual people. I have tried to let people know that Americans are concerned and compassionate and want to help.
--There was another woman who came up to me about a week or so ago…maybe longer ago…she was telling me that she has 5 children, and is behind on her rent as of several months, and has no way to feed them…she started crying as she was talking to me…she said she was embarrassed at having to ask, and that she came to me because “white people have more patience than Haitians” and will listen to you. Well, if this had been before the fundraisers, I would have told her at the beginning of the conversation that I couldn’t help her. But, I listened to her and talked to her and eventually gave her some money, around 10 dlls or so…we talked about her trying to put her kids in the orphanage here, Maison Fortunae…it’s a really good orphanage…the kinds are happy…they provide school, food, community…it’s a good place. But, they don’t take everyone who comes to their door.
So, thank you so much to everyone who stepped forth and contributed so generously to help the people I work with here in Hinche, Haiti. Thank you so so so much, for being touched and stepping forth with such willingness. I appreciate this so much. This gives me the chance to help people make it through when there would be no other way.
Since I returned, I have had good experiences with the volunteers. When people are kind, humble, and approachable, it is always so much more possible to have a mutually good experience. The first 2 weeks I was back, we had a volunteer named Julie, who is a very kind person and very experienced practitioner. I asked her all kinds of questions, the whole time she was here. She could explain anything! I learned a lot from her. For the first time since the very beginning of my time here (February will make 2 years), I visited the Eziel. The Eziel is a place run by Mother Theresa nuns, where they feed malnourished babies and kids in order to give them back to their families, here in Hinche. I hadn’t been back this whole time, because the reality there is so intense, and because I live here and already witness death and extreme poverty on a regular basis, I just never could bring myself to go back. The short-term volunteers usually go. They hold babies, feed them, change them, give them human contact. Well, I walked over there with Julie, and went into the room with the babies. The room is full of metal cribs, with babies of different ages, who look so forlorn and neglected--the sadness is etched into their faces. Their eyes are big, and sad. You look at their little bodies, and you see how starved they are. They are all congested and coughing. There was one little girl, apparently she was at least 2 years old, because she had a full set of teeth. But, her body was so skinny…her head was too big for her body. She was just whimpering. I picked her up to give her a bottle. She could hardly figure out how to suck on it. She had a fungal infection on her skin, around her neck, and also a little infection or stye under one of her eyes. Very fragile health. I just went from baby to baby, holding them for a little while, offering some human contact, stroking their faces, talking to them. Is this doing more harm than good? They are so used to lack of human contact (the sisters are wonderful and take great care of them but don’t have time to hold them). Is this giving these babies some kind of false hope? I really don’t know. There are so many questions I have, that I will never be able to answer.
The whole time Julie and I were with these babies, I was either crying or fighting back tears. It was a huge dose of reality that I hadn’t been ready to face. I felt safe with Julie, like emotionally I could be on the same level with her.
After this, Julie and I decided to walk to the hospital, to check on a baby who we had been helping to feed--helping the mom to hand-express her milk--the baby had suffered some neurological damage probably, around the time fo birth or beforehand--anyway, we walked up there and on the way, there was this group of kids who of course yelled out to us “Blan!! Blan!!” So I stopped to talk to them, and just took my time and made conversation and explained that I am a person who has a name, etc--then one of them said that I had delivered her cousin’s baby…that was good…a lot of people in this community know me now--they may have a family member who I was present at their birth…
So, anyway, the point is that in order for people to recognize me as a real person, I have to stop and talk to them and not be in a rush. Then, they learn my name and next time they call out to me by my name. I have many names here--all are variations of “Reina”--no one really calls me Reina, but some of the other names they call me by are Lena, Klena, Melena, Plena, Pelina, and other such variations. It suits me just fine, because they are making an effort to recognize me as a person.
There was a little boy at the hospital, who was a very bright and also very sweet and wise little 8year-old boy. He said that his father had dropped him off at the hospital back in May, and had never returned to get him. He knew where he was from, but not how to get home, and had no one he could call. Somehow, he was making it at the hospital--people had taken a liking to him. He had broken his leg back in May. He would scoot around on a wheelchair all day…we all noticed him and started interacting with him and helping him and encouraging him to practice walking on his own…he really needed physical therapy…the first day I met him, I told him that with practice and dedication (walking on it) he would regain use of his leg, and his response was: “Yes, with God’s grace/blessing I will regain us eof my leg”--it was like something an adult would say…
Well, Julie was going to try to get him into the orphanage here, so that he would have the opportunity to go to school. He seemed so intelligent, so genuine, like a bright star who had so much potential. Well, we don’t really know what happened to him, because the day before Julie was going to go with him to the orphanage to talk to the director, he was picked up by the mayor. Apparently the nurses who were taking care of him were not happy about this. So, this made us wonder if maybe he was taken to be put to work, as a child servant, somewhere. We don’t know. I hope he is ok.
Schools here, they are so corrupt…for instance where Blada went last year, everyone knew that the director of the school was having sex with 14, 15, etc. year-olds in order to let them pass…this was well-known, and not really hidden. The teachers too. Schools are for making money, which is why most people fail the end-of-year tests in high school. Probably like 75% of people don’t pass. There are people who try year after year. Some people commit suicide when they don’t pass, because they think school is their only way for improving their lives and helping their families, and it is impossible to achieve.
Today, in the Prepartum room (ante partum), there were 8 women. Of these 8, 5 of them were morbidly hypertensive and on IV meds for their B/P. 3 of them were pre-eclamptic. Of these 3, one of them had a B/P of 200/130. Another one, she had such a splitting headache (caused by the pre-eclampsia) that she was moaning and swaying with the pain. I was really really worried about her. She also had facial swelling, high B/P, protein in her urine, etc. The thing that upsets me about her case is that she was admitted since Friday (3 days ago), and her labor never was induced. Until she births, her PEC will only get worse, and she could go into eclamptic seizures. She is 29 weeks--her baby won’t make it. But if we don’t induce her, she won’t make it. Her first baby. We induced her today with Misoprostol (Cytotec). It will need to be renewed every 4-6 hours until she’s in active labor. I hope the midwives do this. She was never induced since Friday, but, she has been receiving regular doses of 2 antibiotics, even though she has never had a high temp.
Besides the 3 PEC ladies, there is another woman who was admitted 5 days ago--last Wednesday--who has been in a coma/unconscious since the time she was admitted. She had given birth the day before, and immediately started having eclamptic seizures. She’s 18 years old, and it was her first baby (she lost the baby). Her mother and brother-in-law have been by her side this whole time. Last week, she seemed so bad, I idn’t think she would live. Her face was so swollen and distorted--even her eyelids were huge. Her eyes were empty and fixed. Her breathing was labored and it sounded like she was snoring. She was on oxygen. Well, today, she is a little better. Her facial swelling has gone down A LOT. And, she’s still unconscious, but she seems closer now to being conscious, like, she’s not as far away. Even her eyes look better, like her life force is returning. I really thought she was going to die this weekend. I am so happy to see her still there, and even better than she was. Hopefully she will continue to get better and better.
Last week, on Friday morning, there was a first-timer who had had a placental abruption (the placenta had prematurely separated from the uterus) and her baby had died and she was now birthing. She pushed her baby out, maybe it took about 2 hours of pushing. She was stoic and strong. A couple of times during this, one of the OB’s came in and wanted to cut an episiotomy. I gently refused to let him do it--the second time he came in, he said that if she didn’t birth within 5-6 minutes, he was going to cut an epis. (He does this routinely; also he thought that she would hemorrhage if she took too long pushing). I really didn’t want her to have to recover from this as well as losing her baby. We helped her to get the baby out before the 6-minute deadline, and then I showed the Dr that she had birthed with no tear, and he was so happy, he hugged me. As soon as she birthed, she started crying and mourning her baby. It was really really sad--I was trying not to cry at all but I did a little.
She was crying out, “my baby, my baby, my baby…” and “when I go back home, people will see me in the street and know I lost my baby…” and even “everyone else, they have their baby, but my baby is going to get thrown away”…(at the hospital, babies literally do get dumped somewhere behind the hospital in a pile of trash…I have told people they can take their babies hole with them and bury them, but they are reluctant to…I don’t want to put it to them like this: “If you don’t take your baby home, your baby will be left in a cardboard box on the counter and then thrown out with the trash and then eaten by dogs”--but that is the truth. But, if I told them that, that would be horrible. Whatever choice they make, they deserve to be in peace with their decision.
She was really sad and really mourning the loss of her first baby. Who knows why she’d had the abruption. The placenta had a huge clot on it, covering most of it. It was a large abruption. Her family was all there coming in and out, also very concerned and sad, some of them crying.
The other OB (not the first one who wanted to cut the epis), came in and told her not to cry, that if she cried her blood pressure would go up and that wouldn’t be good for her. She really needed to cry though. I gently came up to him and said, “She needs to cry--she is really sad because she just lost her first baby. She needs to empty her heart--if she doesn’t do this, she could go crazy”. Well, the next day I saw him and he thanked me for what I had said to him, and he said that I was right, that she needed to let herself cry, and that he had never thought of this aspect of it before. That was really nice that he told me that.
I try really hard to be careful about what I say to people, because I want them to know that I respect them, that I’m not coming in here to tell them what to do. We are all learning from each other. I really do have deep respect for all the people here, even though in the past I have thought that many of them lacked compassion. I can’t judge anyone here. Sometimes, I can help them in ways that I see are possible for me to help, but I am careful about when I bring things up.
This enters into the whole issue too of how do you enter into another culture and help out and not impose your own values upon that culture. Each culture and society has developed ways to deal with problems that exist within their own community. In the past and perhaps still, I have judged and been perplexed by the Haitians’ universal reaction to someone who is suffering, to tell them “don’t cry”. the longer I live here, the more I understand that this is a gesture of compassion, even if at times, it appears so misguided or off (to me). I can’t judge this universal reaction, however counter-intuitive it is to me.
I am a guest in their culture. This is why, I do know that I have a lot to offer, and to take as an example the relationship between myself and Marthonie: each person compliments the other’s experience. We have learned a lot from each other and our diverse backgrounds are the perfect combination and this offers the students a much more well-rounded education. It’s great.
However, even though I know this, I also know that just my mere presence here, although there are many positive sides to it, it also has negative effects on people here, because it reinforces the white savior model. This people has such an intense history with colonialization and white supremacy, and now with the multitude of NGO’s who offer handouts and help to maintain their position of helplessness….it’s not a simple equation. People want to come here and understand everything in one week, and have answers to their questions…there are no concise answers. I don’t have the answers.
10-26-11
Of the 3 pre-eclamptic ladies in the repartee room, one of them birthed last night and had a postpartum hemorrhage and was getting a transfusion this morning (and her baby was born dead), one of them is still not in active labor and is being induced with pitocin (she’s only 29 weeks and it would be better not to do a cesarean--), and one of them died today.
The woman who died today, this was her 4th pregnancy, and she had 3 kids at home. I worked on her 2 days ago and was trying to get all her meds going and get her blood pressure controlled--it was 190/120--and trying to convinvce her to let me induce her labor. Yesterday, she was worse--a really bad headache and swollen face--she still refused to let me induce her, so I got the OB to come in and talk to her and just induce her anyway. He did. Well, the misoprostol wasn’t renewed 4-6 hours later and she never went into labor, but this morning, she was very agitated and uncomfortable. She had a high fever. We did a malaria test on her--it was positive. We started treating her for that, and I didn’t pay much attention to her after that. Well, this afternoon, a couple of hours after I left the hospital, she died. Genette thinks she had an a placental abruption. And just bled to death from inside her uterus from where the placenta had separated. Often people with high blood pressure have abruptions.
10-29-11
Yesterday was our last day at the hospital with the students. I have been feeling very nostalgic about the hospital. It is so special, such a privledge, to be with people there while they are going through the most intense moments of their life.
The day after the woman died--her name was Marie--well, everyone in the prepartum room had seen her die. They saw the whole thing. In Haiti, death is not hidden from people. Everyone has seen it. People have experiences and the community is involved, and everyone talks about it. Well, there was another woman with pre-eclampsia in the repartee room, who saw Marie die. The next day, she was worse, and they had decided to do a cesarean, even though it was her 1st baby and she was 30 weeks. When we arrived int eh morning, her family was praying over her. She was doing worse than the day before. Her B/P was still high, and her face was even more swollen, and now she was also breathing fast, like she wasn’t getting enough air. I listened to her lungs, and they were clear. Well, I stayed by her side for awhile, because her family and she were obviously scared that she was going to die. It was so sad. Some of them were crying. I was standing next to her, and she said to me, “I’m not going to die, am I?” this just broke my heart. Here was this young, promising, valuable woman, who because of where she was born, has not had fair access to ways to stay in health, and now, she is sick enough that she could die very easily, and she has done everything in her power to save her own life--she has been at the hospital for 6 days, in our care…she is slipping through the cracks, getting worse..and it’s not her fault, it is our fault, it is the hospital’s fault, it is the fact that there is no infrastructure here to support our efforts to save peoples’ lives…I wasn’t sure if she was going to live or die, but I told her, “No, you aren’t going to die. We are taking care of you. You’re going to get a cesarean. You’re going to be OK.”
After awhile, she got her cesarean. Her baby was more than 30 weeks. He was maybe 33 weeks. He was pink an looking good, except having respiratory distress. Genette was able to get oxygen for him (our oxygen concentrator only works in the delivery room when there‘s electricity, which there wasn‘t at this moment. Anyway, after I left, one of the Haitian midwives helped the family send the baby to the hospital in Cange. This is such good news. This is the baby’s chance at survival.
Right after this, after this woman had been afraid for her life, waiting to get a cesarean, I walked over to the ICU area to check on someone who was in a diabetic coma whose family had asked me to help them get a doctor to see her, and when I arrived, someone had just died there. An old woman. Her children were middle-aged. She had just died, and they were just starting to weep and mourn her, throwing themselves on the ground, wailing, saying “my mother is dead, my mother is dead…” and I just couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. I always try not to cry in front of patients--but at this moment, there had already been so many reminders of how fragile peoples’ lives are in Haiti, and how powerless they are to change that…I just walked away and leaned over the railing and put my head in my hands, and cried for a few minutes…this is the first time this has happened to me like this at the hospital, and I just couldn’t stop it. Peoples’ grief here is contagious sometimes. When I returned to maternity, there was a 22 year-old woman, whose 7-month baby had stopped moving since the day before and she was now pushing him out. I stayed for the birth, one of our students, Magaly, who has really flourished in our program because she was already very experienced but had lacked sweetness and compassion, and now really really has this in her heart…she caught the baby. Once again, such an honor to be there, witnessing this…to witness a woman having a stillbirth, and a midwife helping her…to see them dealing with this situation in their way…sometimes I think I’m useless here, and I’m more of a witness and learner…I know there are deep changes that I have initiated and followed up with, that I do see…such as the general moral and treatment of women in maternity, by the midwives and the doctors…but, I also feel so helpless and useless sometimes…
The eclamptic woman who was in a coma for over a week, she is a little better each day. She is semi-conscious. She is eating and drinking. She still can’t answer peoples’ questions, but she can say things like “water” if she wants water. I am going to go check on her today.
People at the hospital, they touch me so much…it’s like every week, there is a new group of people who I fall in love with…
Yesterday afternoon Marthonie, Genette and I sat down with the students and each person talked about how this year has been for them. This group of women has been a group of sisters. We are all so proud of them and happy to see them moving on, but it is so hard to let people go too…you think your life is defined by a certain place or group of people, and then it suddenly changes…sometimes you don’t know when that change will come.
This year has given me several experiences that have stripped layers of my identity away from me, unexpectedly. I don’t know why, but I have to trust and move forward. Blada is the one constant, at this point. When I went to El Paso, none of my old friends had room for me to stay with them. I felt pushed away by my old community. MLL was warm and welcoming, thank god. Nevertheless, this was very hard for me. I worked every day in the August heat, going through my stuff and packing it and getting rid of it, so that I can make a smooth transition with Blada to North Carolina, whenever we get our fiance visa.
In NC, I was very busy as well. It was a really good trip, in many ways. I saw my old community through new eyes. I saw things that gave me hope for when I move back. I was very busy with 2 fundraisers that we had in order to raise money so that I could come back to Haiti and help people more. It was intense having to think so much about Haiti while I was gone, because there are parts of it that are painful to think about. But, I did it.
The fundraisers, after all the stress and running around that went into them, were successful, and I was really touched by the fact that people were so interested and willing to help.
Three days before leaving to come back to Haiti, I found out that my life in Haiti was about to change. After everything I have put into the community here and the organization MWH, I am suddenly faced with having to let it all go. Instead of feeling triumphant after such a successful year with the students, I am now mourning the loss of everything I have come to know here. I can’t explain it all here, but someday I will tell some of you the story. I am devastated but all I can do is move on, and try to have faith that things are falling into place exactly as they should. Our life will continue, and the most important thing is that we have each other. This year has been a lot about letting go. Sometimes you get used to your life, and you see yourself as defined by certain parameters of your life. Then, suddenly it changes and what you are left with is yourself. This is how I feel. Maybe it’s not normal for this to happen. I think a lot of peoples’ lives are predictable and stable. Maybe that is what’s normal. I don’t really know anymore.
This is the concise version of what our life has been like recently. Working in Haiti means that you see really intense parts of peoples’ lives. There are very joyous and beautiful parts of living here too. I am just sometimes more focused on the sadness because I encounter it everyday in my work. The beauty here is the strength of the people that shines through all the loss. The natural joy of people, the way people are relaxed, the way people always find a way to make things humorous and laugh about so many things…people simply have a good time and make all kinds of things into jokes. People help each other out--people in the hospital share water and food with others who don’t have…
The students who are about to graduate…I am so proud of them…I love them so much…it has been a huge labor of love, on everyone’s part, each person contributing in the ways they specifically could, to pull this off. The students really care about the women and families they care for. This comes through so clearly in the way they relate to and talk to people. They have compassion. They talk to people with kindness and respect. Sometimes when I have thought of the love I see in their hearts, and the willingness they have to work and the desire they have to save peoples’ lives, I just cry…I wish that they could have more…that they could have better access to the tools they need to save these womens’ lives…but, it is what it is and compared to the alternative of giving up, there is no choice. This is so much better. These women are amazing. They will make a difference.
Each week, there are more things that get added onto the list of things I wanted to write about in my next blog. I have been so busy, and there have been so many changes since the time I departed from Haiti and returned, that I don’t even know how to start.
I was gone for 7 weeks. It was important to go--I had a lot to do--but so hard to be away from Haiti, my students, Marthonie, Genette, Blada…everyone. I have felt so relieved since I returned, a few weeks ago. The students are preparing for graduation. They are now coming over every afternoon (M-F) after working at the hospital to practice their singing and dancing, for graduation. 10 months is a very short time to prepare midwives to work competently. Most of them can’t suture on their own, for example. But, I am very proud of them and what they have accomplished. The first week I returned, at Case Studies class, which we have every Friday afternoon, I just stood back to hear them talk about cases from the week…I was so impressed and pleased to hear how they were discussing between themselves different births and situations they’d dealt with, sharing information…it was really a joy to see this upon first returning, and made me feel so proud of them and hopeful for them.
The money that the community in NC helped me to raise has already begun to be distributed into the hands of many. I can’t even remember everyone so far, but there are always people who are in an urgent situation and just need 5-10 dollars to make it out safely. I’ve never had this luxury before, of being able to help anyone who needs it, and of being more liberal with the amount. A few examples of people I’ve been able to help:
--a 14th-timer, who came in drenched in blood, who had a placenta previa (where the placenta is located right upon the cervix, instead of higher up in the uterus)--luckily, everyone was there when she came in, and we ran around and prepared her for a cesarean really fast…we even got a requisition for blood delivered to the Red Cross…she went into surgery and got a blood transfusion before coming out of the OR…well, she had come from far away and her family didn’t even have 1 clean sheet to put on her bed in the Post-op room. Not even a sheet. Her mother took all the blood-drenched sheets and clothes that they had and walked to the rive to wash them. I gave them some money so they could buy food for the patient and for themselves. It was so clear that they had come with nothing. Thank god, the OR is functioning now. Before I left Haiti, there was no electricity at all and no OR. If this had happened 3 months ago, she would have died in our arms. She knew this. She and her family were very very thankful for the care that was given to her.
--there was a woman who approached me as I was leaving the hospital maybe 2 weeks ago…she is living with AIDS. Her legs were covered with sores that weren’t healing. She is in the HIV program that’s run by Zanmi Asante (Partners in Health)--but she said that they haven’t renewed her card that gives her an allowance for free food. She has children that she takes care of at home. She was so destitute, so poor. In the past, I would have rejected her because she was not in an acute, life-threatening situation. I would have chosen to wait for someone who was more urgent. But, I was able to give her some money for food. Probably about 10 dollars US. She was very thankful. I told her that people in the US had put money together, because when I showed them pictures of the hospital and explained how it was, they cried and wanted to help.
--Right after this, there was an old man in a wheelchair who was skinny and sick--I don’t kn ow with what, but he had a foley catheter in place because he had some kind of urinary obstruction and couldn’t pee on his own and was getting swollen in his abdomwn--he is probably about 70 years old. He didn’t ask me for money, but I could tell he was destitute--I was asking him if he had family in town, who took care of him--he said he has no one. No one to take care of him, to bring him food…he’s just suffering on his own.
People at the hospital, some of them give him food when they bring food for their own family members. So, I gave him some money. He was so so appreciative.
--After this, there were 2 other people who wanted to ask me for money (they hadn’t seen me give him money but I think they knew I had given the HIV+ woman money) and I just had to go after that. I’m not down with people lining up asking me for money. One woman, she was maybe 60 years old, and just wanted a few dollars to buy a new pair of sandals. Hers were totally broken, her toes sticking out. This is most people here though. I didn’t give her any money. Later, I thought maybe I should have.
I don’t want to give people money myself. I want to let the students give people money. I don’t want to reinforce the example of white people always having a lot of money and giving handouts, but so far, I have given some people money myself. I have tried to explain to them that it’s not my money--that lots of people in the US put small amounts of money together to send down to help individual people. I have tried to let people know that Americans are concerned and compassionate and want to help.
--There was another woman who came up to me about a week or so ago…maybe longer ago…she was telling me that she has 5 children, and is behind on her rent as of several months, and has no way to feed them…she started crying as she was talking to me…she said she was embarrassed at having to ask, and that she came to me because “white people have more patience than Haitians” and will listen to you. Well, if this had been before the fundraisers, I would have told her at the beginning of the conversation that I couldn’t help her. But, I listened to her and talked to her and eventually gave her some money, around 10 dlls or so…we talked about her trying to put her kids in the orphanage here, Maison Fortunae…it’s a really good orphanage…the kinds are happy…they provide school, food, community…it’s a good place. But, they don’t take everyone who comes to their door.
So, thank you so much to everyone who stepped forth and contributed so generously to help the people I work with here in Hinche, Haiti. Thank you so so so much, for being touched and stepping forth with such willingness. I appreciate this so much. This gives me the chance to help people make it through when there would be no other way.
Since I returned, I have had good experiences with the volunteers. When people are kind, humble, and approachable, it is always so much more possible to have a mutually good experience. The first 2 weeks I was back, we had a volunteer named Julie, who is a very kind person and very experienced practitioner. I asked her all kinds of questions, the whole time she was here. She could explain anything! I learned a lot from her. For the first time since the very beginning of my time here (February will make 2 years), I visited the Eziel. The Eziel is a place run by Mother Theresa nuns, where they feed malnourished babies and kids in order to give them back to their families, here in Hinche. I hadn’t been back this whole time, because the reality there is so intense, and because I live here and already witness death and extreme poverty on a regular basis, I just never could bring myself to go back. The short-term volunteers usually go. They hold babies, feed them, change them, give them human contact. Well, I walked over there with Julie, and went into the room with the babies. The room is full of metal cribs, with babies of different ages, who look so forlorn and neglected--the sadness is etched into their faces. Their eyes are big, and sad. You look at their little bodies, and you see how starved they are. They are all congested and coughing. There was one little girl, apparently she was at least 2 years old, because she had a full set of teeth. But, her body was so skinny…her head was too big for her body. She was just whimpering. I picked her up to give her a bottle. She could hardly figure out how to suck on it. She had a fungal infection on her skin, around her neck, and also a little infection or stye under one of her eyes. Very fragile health. I just went from baby to baby, holding them for a little while, offering some human contact, stroking their faces, talking to them. Is this doing more harm than good? They are so used to lack of human contact (the sisters are wonderful and take great care of them but don’t have time to hold them). Is this giving these babies some kind of false hope? I really don’t know. There are so many questions I have, that I will never be able to answer.
The whole time Julie and I were with these babies, I was either crying or fighting back tears. It was a huge dose of reality that I hadn’t been ready to face. I felt safe with Julie, like emotionally I could be on the same level with her.
After this, Julie and I decided to walk to the hospital, to check on a baby who we had been helping to feed--helping the mom to hand-express her milk--the baby had suffered some neurological damage probably, around the time fo birth or beforehand--anyway, we walked up there and on the way, there was this group of kids who of course yelled out to us “Blan!! Blan!!” So I stopped to talk to them, and just took my time and made conversation and explained that I am a person who has a name, etc--then one of them said that I had delivered her cousin’s baby…that was good…a lot of people in this community know me now--they may have a family member who I was present at their birth…
So, anyway, the point is that in order for people to recognize me as a real person, I have to stop and talk to them and not be in a rush. Then, they learn my name and next time they call out to me by my name. I have many names here--all are variations of “Reina”--no one really calls me Reina, but some of the other names they call me by are Lena, Klena, Melena, Plena, Pelina, and other such variations. It suits me just fine, because they are making an effort to recognize me as a person.
There was a little boy at the hospital, who was a very bright and also very sweet and wise little 8year-old boy. He said that his father had dropped him off at the hospital back in May, and had never returned to get him. He knew where he was from, but not how to get home, and had no one he could call. Somehow, he was making it at the hospital--people had taken a liking to him. He had broken his leg back in May. He would scoot around on a wheelchair all day…we all noticed him and started interacting with him and helping him and encouraging him to practice walking on his own…he really needed physical therapy…the first day I met him, I told him that with practice and dedication (walking on it) he would regain use of his leg, and his response was: “Yes, with God’s grace/blessing I will regain us eof my leg”--it was like something an adult would say…
Well, Julie was going to try to get him into the orphanage here, so that he would have the opportunity to go to school. He seemed so intelligent, so genuine, like a bright star who had so much potential. Well, we don’t really know what happened to him, because the day before Julie was going to go with him to the orphanage to talk to the director, he was picked up by the mayor. Apparently the nurses who were taking care of him were not happy about this. So, this made us wonder if maybe he was taken to be put to work, as a child servant, somewhere. We don’t know. I hope he is ok.
Schools here, they are so corrupt…for instance where Blada went last year, everyone knew that the director of the school was having sex with 14, 15, etc. year-olds in order to let them pass…this was well-known, and not really hidden. The teachers too. Schools are for making money, which is why most people fail the end-of-year tests in high school. Probably like 75% of people don’t pass. There are people who try year after year. Some people commit suicide when they don’t pass, because they think school is their only way for improving their lives and helping their families, and it is impossible to achieve.
Today, in the Prepartum room (ante partum), there were 8 women. Of these 8, 5 of them were morbidly hypertensive and on IV meds for their B/P. 3 of them were pre-eclamptic. Of these 3, one of them had a B/P of 200/130. Another one, she had such a splitting headache (caused by the pre-eclampsia) that she was moaning and swaying with the pain. I was really really worried about her. She also had facial swelling, high B/P, protein in her urine, etc. The thing that upsets me about her case is that she was admitted since Friday (3 days ago), and her labor never was induced. Until she births, her PEC will only get worse, and she could go into eclamptic seizures. She is 29 weeks--her baby won’t make it. But if we don’t induce her, she won’t make it. Her first baby. We induced her today with Misoprostol (Cytotec). It will need to be renewed every 4-6 hours until she’s in active labor. I hope the midwives do this. She was never induced since Friday, but, she has been receiving regular doses of 2 antibiotics, even though she has never had a high temp.
Besides the 3 PEC ladies, there is another woman who was admitted 5 days ago--last Wednesday--who has been in a coma/unconscious since the time she was admitted. She had given birth the day before, and immediately started having eclamptic seizures. She’s 18 years old, and it was her first baby (she lost the baby). Her mother and brother-in-law have been by her side this whole time. Last week, she seemed so bad, I idn’t think she would live. Her face was so swollen and distorted--even her eyelids were huge. Her eyes were empty and fixed. Her breathing was labored and it sounded like she was snoring. She was on oxygen. Well, today, she is a little better. Her facial swelling has gone down A LOT. And, she’s still unconscious, but she seems closer now to being conscious, like, she’s not as far away. Even her eyes look better, like her life force is returning. I really thought she was going to die this weekend. I am so happy to see her still there, and even better than she was. Hopefully she will continue to get better and better.
Last week, on Friday morning, there was a first-timer who had had a placental abruption (the placenta had prematurely separated from the uterus) and her baby had died and she was now birthing. She pushed her baby out, maybe it took about 2 hours of pushing. She was stoic and strong. A couple of times during this, one of the OB’s came in and wanted to cut an episiotomy. I gently refused to let him do it--the second time he came in, he said that if she didn’t birth within 5-6 minutes, he was going to cut an epis. (He does this routinely; also he thought that she would hemorrhage if she took too long pushing). I really didn’t want her to have to recover from this as well as losing her baby. We helped her to get the baby out before the 6-minute deadline, and then I showed the Dr that she had birthed with no tear, and he was so happy, he hugged me. As soon as she birthed, she started crying and mourning her baby. It was really really sad--I was trying not to cry at all but I did a little.
She was crying out, “my baby, my baby, my baby…” and “when I go back home, people will see me in the street and know I lost my baby…” and even “everyone else, they have their baby, but my baby is going to get thrown away”…(at the hospital, babies literally do get dumped somewhere behind the hospital in a pile of trash…I have told people they can take their babies hole with them and bury them, but they are reluctant to…I don’t want to put it to them like this: “If you don’t take your baby home, your baby will be left in a cardboard box on the counter and then thrown out with the trash and then eaten by dogs”--but that is the truth. But, if I told them that, that would be horrible. Whatever choice they make, they deserve to be in peace with their decision.
She was really sad and really mourning the loss of her first baby. Who knows why she’d had the abruption. The placenta had a huge clot on it, covering most of it. It was a large abruption. Her family was all there coming in and out, also very concerned and sad, some of them crying.
The other OB (not the first one who wanted to cut the epis), came in and told her not to cry, that if she cried her blood pressure would go up and that wouldn’t be good for her. She really needed to cry though. I gently came up to him and said, “She needs to cry--she is really sad because she just lost her first baby. She needs to empty her heart--if she doesn’t do this, she could go crazy”. Well, the next day I saw him and he thanked me for what I had said to him, and he said that I was right, that she needed to let herself cry, and that he had never thought of this aspect of it before. That was really nice that he told me that.
I try really hard to be careful about what I say to people, because I want them to know that I respect them, that I’m not coming in here to tell them what to do. We are all learning from each other. I really do have deep respect for all the people here, even though in the past I have thought that many of them lacked compassion. I can’t judge anyone here. Sometimes, I can help them in ways that I see are possible for me to help, but I am careful about when I bring things up.
This enters into the whole issue too of how do you enter into another culture and help out and not impose your own values upon that culture. Each culture and society has developed ways to deal with problems that exist within their own community. In the past and perhaps still, I have judged and been perplexed by the Haitians’ universal reaction to someone who is suffering, to tell them “don’t cry”. the longer I live here, the more I understand that this is a gesture of compassion, even if at times, it appears so misguided or off (to me). I can’t judge this universal reaction, however counter-intuitive it is to me.
I am a guest in their culture. This is why, I do know that I have a lot to offer, and to take as an example the relationship between myself and Marthonie: each person compliments the other’s experience. We have learned a lot from each other and our diverse backgrounds are the perfect combination and this offers the students a much more well-rounded education. It’s great.
However, even though I know this, I also know that just my mere presence here, although there are many positive sides to it, it also has negative effects on people here, because it reinforces the white savior model. This people has such an intense history with colonialization and white supremacy, and now with the multitude of NGO’s who offer handouts and help to maintain their position of helplessness….it’s not a simple equation. People want to come here and understand everything in one week, and have answers to their questions…there are no concise answers. I don’t have the answers.
10-26-11
Of the 3 pre-eclamptic ladies in the repartee room, one of them birthed last night and had a postpartum hemorrhage and was getting a transfusion this morning (and her baby was born dead), one of them is still not in active labor and is being induced with pitocin (she’s only 29 weeks and it would be better not to do a cesarean--), and one of them died today.
The woman who died today, this was her 4th pregnancy, and she had 3 kids at home. I worked on her 2 days ago and was trying to get all her meds going and get her blood pressure controlled--it was 190/120--and trying to convinvce her to let me induce her labor. Yesterday, she was worse--a really bad headache and swollen face--she still refused to let me induce her, so I got the OB to come in and talk to her and just induce her anyway. He did. Well, the misoprostol wasn’t renewed 4-6 hours later and she never went into labor, but this morning, she was very agitated and uncomfortable. She had a high fever. We did a malaria test on her--it was positive. We started treating her for that, and I didn’t pay much attention to her after that. Well, this afternoon, a couple of hours after I left the hospital, she died. Genette thinks she had an a placental abruption. And just bled to death from inside her uterus from where the placenta had separated. Often people with high blood pressure have abruptions.
10-29-11
Yesterday was our last day at the hospital with the students. I have been feeling very nostalgic about the hospital. It is so special, such a privledge, to be with people there while they are going through the most intense moments of their life.
The day after the woman died--her name was Marie--well, everyone in the prepartum room had seen her die. They saw the whole thing. In Haiti, death is not hidden from people. Everyone has seen it. People have experiences and the community is involved, and everyone talks about it. Well, there was another woman with pre-eclampsia in the repartee room, who saw Marie die. The next day, she was worse, and they had decided to do a cesarean, even though it was her 1st baby and she was 30 weeks. When we arrived int eh morning, her family was praying over her. She was doing worse than the day before. Her B/P was still high, and her face was even more swollen, and now she was also breathing fast, like she wasn’t getting enough air. I listened to her lungs, and they were clear. Well, I stayed by her side for awhile, because her family and she were obviously scared that she was going to die. It was so sad. Some of them were crying. I was standing next to her, and she said to me, “I’m not going to die, am I?” this just broke my heart. Here was this young, promising, valuable woman, who because of where she was born, has not had fair access to ways to stay in health, and now, she is sick enough that she could die very easily, and she has done everything in her power to save her own life--she has been at the hospital for 6 days, in our care…she is slipping through the cracks, getting worse..and it’s not her fault, it is our fault, it is the hospital’s fault, it is the fact that there is no infrastructure here to support our efforts to save peoples’ lives…I wasn’t sure if she was going to live or die, but I told her, “No, you aren’t going to die. We are taking care of you. You’re going to get a cesarean. You’re going to be OK.”
After awhile, she got her cesarean. Her baby was more than 30 weeks. He was maybe 33 weeks. He was pink an looking good, except having respiratory distress. Genette was able to get oxygen for him (our oxygen concentrator only works in the delivery room when there‘s electricity, which there wasn‘t at this moment. Anyway, after I left, one of the Haitian midwives helped the family send the baby to the hospital in Cange. This is such good news. This is the baby’s chance at survival.
Right after this, after this woman had been afraid for her life, waiting to get a cesarean, I walked over to the ICU area to check on someone who was in a diabetic coma whose family had asked me to help them get a doctor to see her, and when I arrived, someone had just died there. An old woman. Her children were middle-aged. She had just died, and they were just starting to weep and mourn her, throwing themselves on the ground, wailing, saying “my mother is dead, my mother is dead…” and I just couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. I always try not to cry in front of patients--but at this moment, there had already been so many reminders of how fragile peoples’ lives are in Haiti, and how powerless they are to change that…I just walked away and leaned over the railing and put my head in my hands, and cried for a few minutes…this is the first time this has happened to me like this at the hospital, and I just couldn’t stop it. Peoples’ grief here is contagious sometimes. When I returned to maternity, there was a 22 year-old woman, whose 7-month baby had stopped moving since the day before and she was now pushing him out. I stayed for the birth, one of our students, Magaly, who has really flourished in our program because she was already very experienced but had lacked sweetness and compassion, and now really really has this in her heart…she caught the baby. Once again, such an honor to be there, witnessing this…to witness a woman having a stillbirth, and a midwife helping her…to see them dealing with this situation in their way…sometimes I think I’m useless here, and I’m more of a witness and learner…I know there are deep changes that I have initiated and followed up with, that I do see…such as the general moral and treatment of women in maternity, by the midwives and the doctors…but, I also feel so helpless and useless sometimes…
The eclamptic woman who was in a coma for over a week, she is a little better each day. She is semi-conscious. She is eating and drinking. She still can’t answer peoples’ questions, but she can say things like “water” if she wants water. I am going to go check on her today.
People at the hospital, they touch me so much…it’s like every week, there is a new group of people who I fall in love with…
Yesterday afternoon Marthonie, Genette and I sat down with the students and each person talked about how this year has been for them. This group of women has been a group of sisters. We are all so proud of them and happy to see them moving on, but it is so hard to let people go too…you think your life is defined by a certain place or group of people, and then it suddenly changes…sometimes you don’t know when that change will come.
This year has given me several experiences that have stripped layers of my identity away from me, unexpectedly. I don’t know why, but I have to trust and move forward. Blada is the one constant, at this point. When I went to El Paso, none of my old friends had room for me to stay with them. I felt pushed away by my old community. MLL was warm and welcoming, thank god. Nevertheless, this was very hard for me. I worked every day in the August heat, going through my stuff and packing it and getting rid of it, so that I can make a smooth transition with Blada to North Carolina, whenever we get our fiance visa.
In NC, I was very busy as well. It was a really good trip, in many ways. I saw my old community through new eyes. I saw things that gave me hope for when I move back. I was very busy with 2 fundraisers that we had in order to raise money so that I could come back to Haiti and help people more. It was intense having to think so much about Haiti while I was gone, because there are parts of it that are painful to think about. But, I did it.
The fundraisers, after all the stress and running around that went into them, were successful, and I was really touched by the fact that people were so interested and willing to help.
Three days before leaving to come back to Haiti, I found out that my life in Haiti was about to change. After everything I have put into the community here and the organization MWH, I am suddenly faced with having to let it all go. Instead of feeling triumphant after such a successful year with the students, I am now mourning the loss of everything I have come to know here. I can’t explain it all here, but someday I will tell some of you the story. I am devastated but all I can do is move on, and try to have faith that things are falling into place exactly as they should. Our life will continue, and the most important thing is that we have each other. This year has been a lot about letting go. Sometimes you get used to your life, and you see yourself as defined by certain parameters of your life. Then, suddenly it changes and what you are left with is yourself. This is how I feel. Maybe it’s not normal for this to happen. I think a lot of peoples’ lives are predictable and stable. Maybe that is what’s normal. I don’t really know anymore.
This is the concise version of what our life has been like recently. Working in Haiti means that you see really intense parts of peoples’ lives. There are very joyous and beautiful parts of living here too. I am just sometimes more focused on the sadness because I encounter it everyday in my work. The beauty here is the strength of the people that shines through all the loss. The natural joy of people, the way people are relaxed, the way people always find a way to make things humorous and laugh about so many things…people simply have a good time and make all kinds of things into jokes. People help each other out--people in the hospital share water and food with others who don’t have…
The students who are about to graduate…I am so proud of them…I love them so much…it has been a huge labor of love, on everyone’s part, each person contributing in the ways they specifically could, to pull this off. The students really care about the women and families they care for. This comes through so clearly in the way they relate to and talk to people. They have compassion. They talk to people with kindness and respect. Sometimes when I have thought of the love I see in their hearts, and the willingness they have to work and the desire they have to save peoples’ lives, I just cry…I wish that they could have more…that they could have better access to the tools they need to save these womens’ lives…but, it is what it is and compared to the alternative of giving up, there is no choice. This is so much better. These women are amazing. They will make a difference.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
7-1 to 7-16-11
7-1-11
So…so many things to write about always…it would be easier if I could tell these stories face to face…
Today we had 2 births…one was a super easy spontaneous fast labor/birth with a 3rd-timer…the other was a 6/5 with pre-eclampsia who they wanted to do a c/s on because her cervix was swollen because she had been pushing on it for awhile at 5cms and a few other reasons…anyway, we helped her to birth…when we arrived, she was laying on her back (with a swollen ANTERIOR cervix) and she was 6cms and her ctx were weak…we started pit on her and put her forward-leaning and then hands and knees…then I simply held back her cervix she pushed and the baby almost flew out.
When we arrived they had stopped her mag sulfate drip because her urine output was scant and very bloody (really BAD sign)…she was ok though and after she birthed she started peeing a lot and it was clear…huge relief…we put her back on mag and everything was great…
That’s a summary of it…
Last week we had 3 really great births too…the students really have their hearts in the right place…they are doing so well supporting women in labor, doing labor monitoring, etc…I am so proud of them…this year is a lot different than last year…we really started off on the right foot with this group…
5 babies who died this week…2 apparently were stillbirths…one was yesterday, a 25-week baby born alive who died in my arms over the next while…it was with that or let the baby die by herself on the counter…
One died yesterday--I’m sure this baby had aspirated mec…born in the morning, died in the afternoon…
Anyway…there’s always a lot of this…
So I have been trying to get a kind of visa called permis de sejours…it allows you to live here for 1 year, and you renew it each year…it has been so hard…I can’t even explain it in writing…imagine in a country with no infrastructure, no real systems for anything…you have to make a long trip in person each time, only to find out that you are missing more documents or their fingerprinting machine is broken so you’ll have to return…
Well the 3rd and final time I went (to PAP to finish the permis stuff), I went with Blada. We had the most interesting ride up there. You ride there in either a tap-tap, which is a pickup truck, or a papadap, which is a minivan…either way everyone is super crammed in there, sitting on one buttcheek…well, this time, we had the luck of having a very entertaining crazy person in the papadap with us…it was hilarious…someday I will tell some of you who are interested in hearing about it…I will be able to explain it better…not only did we have the crazy person, we also had a woman sho in the middle fo the ride suddenly started screaming and writhing in pain…she was on her period…it was like she was having an abortion or in labor…so everyone supported her, and then after her pain started dying down and she was sleeping between the contractions, everyone started talking about how their labors were and about how boy babies hurt more than girl babies…it was really interesting…
One thing here is that people talk about everything in a group…like, you’re in the minivan and the whole group of people is having a conversation or an argument about something…people don’t hold back their comments…no one is immune to criticism…I don’t know how to describe it…it’s almost communal in a way…like, people keep each other in line in the street…everyone disciplines each others’ kids…
I feel like I’m riding the crest of a wave with the creole language…like, learning at a fast pace…catching more and more little things…
7-11-11
Today is Monday, a class day…the students are taking a test right now…
This past Friday…each day at the hospital this past week was very interesting and good with the students…we did some labors and births together…too many things to describe but one that has been on my mind was on Friday….
We had this woman who was in active labor, 6cms in the morning. When the student checked her, she popped the bag of waters accidentaly and there was very thick
me conium. But, the fetal heart tones were great. Well, her labor never went anywhere all day and although the FHT’s were always good, there was just something wrong, something that was preventing her labor from progressing. Her cervix had been 5-6 cms in the morning and in the afternoon was 4-5 cms and less soft. She didn’t have signs of infection but that could be a reason for the reverse dilation. Her contractions were strong but farther and farther apart. We tried a lot of things, and nothing helped. We had advised the Dr in the morning about her and he had actually decided to do a c/s since 9:30am. Then, for the next 4 hours, he was running around trying to get them to fix the generator, because apparently the generator was broken and so there was no power and no possibility of doing a c/s. well, after 4 hours of trying, it was clear that it couldn’t be fixed. He resigned himself to telling her: “ there is nothing I can do for you.” that is literally what he said. He left. He works all the time, gets called in all the time….he went home to eat something. You wouldn’t believe how hard people work here.
In the meantime, we had also been trying to find a way to transport her to a different howpital. In Cange--about 30-45 minutes away between Hinche and Port au Prince. Well, Cange does have an “ambulnce” which they send here sometimes for really grave cases…we thought they were coming and then they called and said they couldn’t come. Our jeep, the Midwives for Haiti jeep, that is used for mobile clinics, was broken down, but in the process of being fixed. By the afternoon, around 3pm or so, the jeep was fixed and Ronel (the driver) brought her to Cange. A graduate MW went with her.
It was hard--it was like, she was stuck there with this dysfunctional labor and thick mec getting more and more exhausted. Eventually we actually gave her mag sulfate to tocolyze her (to slow down the ctx) because we had already tried augmenting her with pit, and then when I checked her again and saw that she was reverse dilating and also was pushing on her cervix and tearing it and bleeding, we stopped the pit and tocolyzed her instead.
It was a team effort between myself, Genette, the students, the other graduate MW Bienaime, our driver…I imagine that things turned out ok for her and the baby because the baby had been stable all along and she was also not super compromised yet.
The most striking thing to me of the whole situation was when Dr C, the OB, said to her: “there’s nothing I can do for you.” I mean, for an OB to have to say that to someone--for an OB to have to tell a woman this--for an OB to have their hands tied like this and to have to simply tell a woman that there’s nothing else they can do for them---that is really sad. That is a reflection on the entire eituation here--the act that we had to wait all day to transport this lady to a hospital 45 MINUTES away--and that there are no public services like ambulances…
There was another really intense situation this week….a birth on Wednesday…a 5th-timer (5/4) who was diagnosed with “CPD” (it is the largest reason they do cesareans here)--(CPD means that the baby’s head can’t fit through the mom’s pelvis)---
Anyway I advocated for us trying for a vaginal birth and got a lot of hell for it but eventually she progressed to complete (she had been 9cms with an anterior lip only, laying on her back--when we arrived)….this lady was really out of her mind--wouldn’t let us help her at all, wouldn’t cooperate at all…had it in her mind that she was going to die if she didn’t get a c/s….it was really chaotic and crazy---her yelling, her family yelling, everyone upset and scared, them mad at her for not cooperating with us, her mad at me for saying she didn’t need a c/s--anyway it was really crazy until she started pushing…then, she calmed down and started focusing and pushing and working with us…she was on the floor, almost outside of the L&D area…her dad, who had been praying over her, stayed there and held her as she pushed…
Pushing stage proved very difficult…probably her other babies had been smaller than this baby…very hard with fetal heart tones that started getting bad (around 70-80, staying there, with the head still not through the bones)…I called in help from another American MW who was there at the hospital too because I knew she could help me get the baby out…we were doing everything and finally the baby came and was ok after a few minutes of artificial respiration…
The whole thing was intense too because besides the birth being hard, besides the possibility of having a damaged or dead baby, and all the grief that would cause, there was the other reality that I had been the one who opposed the c/s earlier, so if we had a bad outcome, it would have been my fault, in everyone’s eyes. That would have been really bad. As it was, with everything ok, the mom was so so happy and so thankful etc during the postpartum, and so was her family…she had lost her voice from all the screaming so she just kept whispering “thank you so much, thank you so much…” and her family was like “you should always stay here and save mothers”…I was happy for their happiness but I also knew that if the outcome had been different, and it could have been, it would have been the opposite…
The thing is, earlier on, she really didn’t have any real indication for a c/s. one reason for it was that people didn’t want to deal with her crazy screaming anymore.
I’ve had lots of births here where they were headed for a c/s for “CPD” and I helped them birth vaginally…the week before I had another 5th timer with “CPD” who just needed some pit augmentation, a change in position from flat on her back to hands and knees, and then to push back her swollen anterior cervix--then the baby flew out.
Anyway….writing about something never captures the reality in full but atleast it can give an idea.
The students, I am so proud of them. They are doing so well in the hospital. Last week I was able to suture with on eof them and do PPV 2 times with her as well. (PPV=artificial respirations for a baby who needs help to start breathing). It is so satisfying to help someone else do something, to put your hands over theirs and feel them do it with their own hands.
The time here has been flying by. The energy in the house has been easier than in the first several months, which has been so great, because after the first 5 months or so, I was really really FRIED, and the volunteers could see that, and that made some of them feel unwelcome, but there was nothing I could do about that because it was our living situation that was really really unbalanced…the last 2 months have been better--with some breaks from visitors (volunteers) and with Kirsty and Mackenxy moving in a month ago…
Anyway, time is flying and in less than a month, I am leaving Haiti to go to the US for almost 2 months…first I’m going to El Paso for 3 weeks, then to NC for 4 weeks. One of the big reasons for my trip is to go through all my stuff in EL Paso and pack up what I’m keeping and ship it all to NC. So that, when our fiance visa petition gets approved next year hopefully, we can go to NC directly. I feel sad about rapping up my life in El Paso, even though I know I have to and I know that life changes. It was just such a big part of my life for so long, and I feel really connected to the midwives there still. And to the people of Ep Paso/Juarez. I had many friends who birthed in my hands 3-4 times and whose sisters’ and cousins’ births I attended…
I will be so happy to see everyone there again, and relieved to deal with my stuff and move it, but also sad to be wrapping up things there…I would love to visit MLL & El Paso one day with Blada…would love for him to see where I was and for my friends there to meet him…
Also really excited about going to NC and being there with family and friends…
Another part of my trip besides moving my stuff is doing things like renewing my CPR and IV certifications in order to be able to renew my midwifery license when that comes up…hopefully I can do everything I need to on this trip so that I don’t need to leave Haiti again until I leave with Blada…whenever that is…(we hope next year but you never know with stuff like this). And of course the other big thing I am going to do while in EP is to send off our visa petition. That will be such a relief!
This past week at the hospital also, I enlisted the participation of a group of auxilliare students who are in their maternity rotation. The last groups we’ve had, they’ve been awful, so we mostly ignore them. They just sit there all day, not trying to help or learn, playing with their phones…well, the group that started this week is a different story. They are helpful and get their hands in there. I’ve had them come and do massage for laboring moms…I’ve taken time to show them things like explain things to them while I’m suturing…so, we had one birth on Friday where the mom pushed and had her baby on the floor (on a sheet)---and there is a guy in the group, who is really open and had already been doing massage for the laboring mom. So, while she was pushing, I had him squatting behind her supporting her. For like 45 minutes. It was great. This is the only time in their training they will ever see something like this. I talk to them about how to talk to patients. How to be gentle with them and show them that they can trust you. So, it was really great that they could help us in this birth--actually the guy student, he was more positive and helpful than the females. I joked that we will pick him for our next MW class.
7-16-11
So, it has been 2 weeks that the hospital has been without power. The midwives do births at night with their headlamps. There is no functional OR. We’ve had to transport women who needed c-sections to a different hospital in Cange, about 45 min away. If we didn’t have the MWH jeep, some of these transports would have not been possible. Like the woman I wrote about last time, who we transported a week ago, who was stuck at 5cms all day, with thick mec. If the jeep hadn’t been available, she would have eventually lost the baby and if her labor didn’t progress she would have ended up with a ruptured uterus (and would have died).
Not only does the hospital have no power (the whole town of Hinche has no power. Anyone who has power has either solar panels or a generator))---but now, the Red Cross, down the road form the hospital, had all of their 8 solar panels STOLEN a week ago. Which means that all the stored blood was lost, and there is NO blood available for transfusions. There are 2 ladies at the hospital with 4 hemoglobins. There are people worse off than them, I’m sure. Ayway, whoever stole the solar panels is going to cost people their lives. If the town finds out who did it, they will probably kill him. I’m serious. Thieves are punished severely here. One time, Blada witnessed a thief get tied up, beaten and dragged through town, and then burned to death.
Anyway, so the hospital is pretty bad off right now. Sometimes I give some of the patients who are really bad off a little money. Like, a woman in post-op with a 4 hgb whose family is only feeding her some crackers and juice every day, and who doesn’t have money to buy iron injections. One of the students has taken on making food for her and told me about her situation, so I gave her the money to buy the iron. Out of leftover house food money. Sometimes you just have to, people are so bad off.
We had a 15 day postpartum woman come in on Wednesday, having eclamptic seizures. Her parents came with her….she had been seizing all day…we had to restrain her to give her anti-seizure meds because after you’ve been seizing, your brain is abnormal and you are really deranged and out of it---she was trying to bite me and scratch me…the next day, she was a lot better and has been better each day. But she’s not totally here yet. She can’t really speak yet. But, she is holding and BF her baby. Her parents are so dedicated to her…they came from far away, with nothing…nothing to wrap the baby in…everything was dirty…bloody and smelly…so so sad…they didn’t even have a sheet to put down on her bed…I looked through our stuff at the hospital and neither did we…sometimes we have stuff, like baby blankets, baby clothes, etc, but they get used and then there’s nothing…anyway, I gave them some money so they could eat and feed her…really humble and caring people…I talked to them a lot about keeping the baby on the breast, about giving their daughter good food once they get home…
We had another pre-eclamptic woman yesterday, who is 7 months pregnant, 21 years old, who lost her 1st baby at 7 months due to the same condition. I talked with her for a long time yesterday about the fact that right now, her pre-eclampsia appears “light”--it’s not severe/full blown yet, but that that can change at any moment--we had a woman a few weeks ago who had been seen at the hospital 3 days before with a B/P of 90/60 and everything appearing fine, who then came in seizing 3 days later…anyway, I was talking to this woman about the fact that we reall yneed to induce her labor, and that yes, her 7-month old baby probably won’t make it…it was so heart-wrenching because this woman really, really wants her baby…she is still sad about losing the last one…she kept saying that she feels the baby moving in her belly…she kept asking me what I thought were the chances of her baby surviving…at the same time, understanding and resigning herself to the induction, in order to save her own life…
And in talking to her, I just kept coming back to this: that this is so unfair…that in the US, we would be monitoring her condition continuously with blood tests, to know how much longer we could wait to deliver her, to balance the risks for both her and baby and she most likely would not die…it is so unfair that women here have to make this choice…this woman yesterday, she is an intelligent, normal woman, who deserves the options and choices of any other woman…the women here are no less, and they deserve no less.
Yesterday in case studies class with the students, we were talking about eclampsia. I was asking them if they have known women who have had eclamptic seizures, who have either been normal afterwards or been kind of off mentally, or even crazy. (years later). I just wonder, because obviously, you can suffer brain damage from an event like this. Well, almost half of them have had cousins, aunts, sisters, etc who have had eclampsia. This is shocing. This shows how common it is here. All of them said that the people have been normal afterwards. I know that there is different research about how PEC starts, like with placental attachment in the 1st trimester, genetics, etc. but to me, the most obvious cause is malnutrition and dehydration. People here do have chronic dehydration and malnutrition. A pregnant woman needs more of everything, and needs to expand her blood volume by 50% over what it was, by 28 weeks pregnant. These women are HYPOVOLEMIC. They have a thick, contracted blood volume. This leads to placental insufficiency, fetal growth restriction, high blood pressure, kidney damage, etc. the body responds to the hypovolemia the same way it does to a big hemorrhage: the kidneys release renin, to raise to the blood pressure, in order to keep circulating blood through the body, and to the placenta. They also start reabsorbing water, in order to keep the blood volume out. Lack of adequate protein and salt causes plasma (the fluid part of the blood) to leak out of the blood circulation, which causes pathological swelling. This is a simplified explanation of a multifaceted syndrome. There are surely other factors that can exaserbate the process or augment someone’s risk. But, I really feel that this is the underlying cause. It is so clear. When you see it here, it is so clear. When you read about it and put all the pieces together, it is so clear.
The choice that ended up being made, in light of her fervent desire to save her baby if possible, was to bring her to Cange the next morning (this morning), because at least there they have the capacity to care for premature infants…I don’t know if a 7-month baby will make it there, but it’s her only chance.
We only have 3 weeks left of classes, until we start the last 10 weeks of the program, which is almost all clinical. I regret that I will be gone for 2 months of that. I feel really attached to this group of students and will miss them so much and also be sad to miss out on a big part of their learning. There is never a convenient time to leave Haiti. Even though I am excited to come home, to see everyone…it is also hard to leave and I will really miss people here…
What else…the weeks are passing fast.
So…so many things to write about always…it would be easier if I could tell these stories face to face…
Today we had 2 births…one was a super easy spontaneous fast labor/birth with a 3rd-timer…the other was a 6/5 with pre-eclampsia who they wanted to do a c/s on because her cervix was swollen because she had been pushing on it for awhile at 5cms and a few other reasons…anyway, we helped her to birth…when we arrived, she was laying on her back (with a swollen ANTERIOR cervix) and she was 6cms and her ctx were weak…we started pit on her and put her forward-leaning and then hands and knees…then I simply held back her cervix she pushed and the baby almost flew out.
When we arrived they had stopped her mag sulfate drip because her urine output was scant and very bloody (really BAD sign)…she was ok though and after she birthed she started peeing a lot and it was clear…huge relief…we put her back on mag and everything was great…
That’s a summary of it…
Last week we had 3 really great births too…the students really have their hearts in the right place…they are doing so well supporting women in labor, doing labor monitoring, etc…I am so proud of them…this year is a lot different than last year…we really started off on the right foot with this group…
5 babies who died this week…2 apparently were stillbirths…one was yesterday, a 25-week baby born alive who died in my arms over the next while…it was with that or let the baby die by herself on the counter…
One died yesterday--I’m sure this baby had aspirated mec…born in the morning, died in the afternoon…
Anyway…there’s always a lot of this…
So I have been trying to get a kind of visa called permis de sejours…it allows you to live here for 1 year, and you renew it each year…it has been so hard…I can’t even explain it in writing…imagine in a country with no infrastructure, no real systems for anything…you have to make a long trip in person each time, only to find out that you are missing more documents or their fingerprinting machine is broken so you’ll have to return…
Well the 3rd and final time I went (to PAP to finish the permis stuff), I went with Blada. We had the most interesting ride up there. You ride there in either a tap-tap, which is a pickup truck, or a papadap, which is a minivan…either way everyone is super crammed in there, sitting on one buttcheek…well, this time, we had the luck of having a very entertaining crazy person in the papadap with us…it was hilarious…someday I will tell some of you who are interested in hearing about it…I will be able to explain it better…not only did we have the crazy person, we also had a woman sho in the middle fo the ride suddenly started screaming and writhing in pain…she was on her period…it was like she was having an abortion or in labor…so everyone supported her, and then after her pain started dying down and she was sleeping between the contractions, everyone started talking about how their labors were and about how boy babies hurt more than girl babies…it was really interesting…
One thing here is that people talk about everything in a group…like, you’re in the minivan and the whole group of people is having a conversation or an argument about something…people don’t hold back their comments…no one is immune to criticism…I don’t know how to describe it…it’s almost communal in a way…like, people keep each other in line in the street…everyone disciplines each others’ kids…
I feel like I’m riding the crest of a wave with the creole language…like, learning at a fast pace…catching more and more little things…
7-11-11
Today is Monday, a class day…the students are taking a test right now…
This past Friday…each day at the hospital this past week was very interesting and good with the students…we did some labors and births together…too many things to describe but one that has been on my mind was on Friday….
We had this woman who was in active labor, 6cms in the morning. When the student checked her, she popped the bag of waters accidentaly and there was very thick
me conium. But, the fetal heart tones were great. Well, her labor never went anywhere all day and although the FHT’s were always good, there was just something wrong, something that was preventing her labor from progressing. Her cervix had been 5-6 cms in the morning and in the afternoon was 4-5 cms and less soft. She didn’t have signs of infection but that could be a reason for the reverse dilation. Her contractions were strong but farther and farther apart. We tried a lot of things, and nothing helped. We had advised the Dr in the morning about her and he had actually decided to do a c/s since 9:30am. Then, for the next 4 hours, he was running around trying to get them to fix the generator, because apparently the generator was broken and so there was no power and no possibility of doing a c/s. well, after 4 hours of trying, it was clear that it couldn’t be fixed. He resigned himself to telling her: “ there is nothing I can do for you.” that is literally what he said. He left. He works all the time, gets called in all the time….he went home to eat something. You wouldn’t believe how hard people work here.
In the meantime, we had also been trying to find a way to transport her to a different howpital. In Cange--about 30-45 minutes away between Hinche and Port au Prince. Well, Cange does have an “ambulnce” which they send here sometimes for really grave cases…we thought they were coming and then they called and said they couldn’t come. Our jeep, the Midwives for Haiti jeep, that is used for mobile clinics, was broken down, but in the process of being fixed. By the afternoon, around 3pm or so, the jeep was fixed and Ronel (the driver) brought her to Cange. A graduate MW went with her.
It was hard--it was like, she was stuck there with this dysfunctional labor and thick mec getting more and more exhausted. Eventually we actually gave her mag sulfate to tocolyze her (to slow down the ctx) because we had already tried augmenting her with pit, and then when I checked her again and saw that she was reverse dilating and also was pushing on her cervix and tearing it and bleeding, we stopped the pit and tocolyzed her instead.
It was a team effort between myself, Genette, the students, the other graduate MW Bienaime, our driver…I imagine that things turned out ok for her and the baby because the baby had been stable all along and she was also not super compromised yet.
The most striking thing to me of the whole situation was when Dr C, the OB, said to her: “there’s nothing I can do for you.” I mean, for an OB to have to say that to someone--for an OB to have to tell a woman this--for an OB to have their hands tied like this and to have to simply tell a woman that there’s nothing else they can do for them---that is really sad. That is a reflection on the entire eituation here--the act that we had to wait all day to transport this lady to a hospital 45 MINUTES away--and that there are no public services like ambulances…
There was another really intense situation this week….a birth on Wednesday…a 5th-timer (5/4) who was diagnosed with “CPD” (it is the largest reason they do cesareans here)--(CPD means that the baby’s head can’t fit through the mom’s pelvis)---
Anyway I advocated for us trying for a vaginal birth and got a lot of hell for it but eventually she progressed to complete (she had been 9cms with an anterior lip only, laying on her back--when we arrived)….this lady was really out of her mind--wouldn’t let us help her at all, wouldn’t cooperate at all…had it in her mind that she was going to die if she didn’t get a c/s….it was really chaotic and crazy---her yelling, her family yelling, everyone upset and scared, them mad at her for not cooperating with us, her mad at me for saying she didn’t need a c/s--anyway it was really crazy until she started pushing…then, she calmed down and started focusing and pushing and working with us…she was on the floor, almost outside of the L&D area…her dad, who had been praying over her, stayed there and held her as she pushed…
Pushing stage proved very difficult…probably her other babies had been smaller than this baby…very hard with fetal heart tones that started getting bad (around 70-80, staying there, with the head still not through the bones)…I called in help from another American MW who was there at the hospital too because I knew she could help me get the baby out…we were doing everything and finally the baby came and was ok after a few minutes of artificial respiration…
The whole thing was intense too because besides the birth being hard, besides the possibility of having a damaged or dead baby, and all the grief that would cause, there was the other reality that I had been the one who opposed the c/s earlier, so if we had a bad outcome, it would have been my fault, in everyone’s eyes. That would have been really bad. As it was, with everything ok, the mom was so so happy and so thankful etc during the postpartum, and so was her family…she had lost her voice from all the screaming so she just kept whispering “thank you so much, thank you so much…” and her family was like “you should always stay here and save mothers”…I was happy for their happiness but I also knew that if the outcome had been different, and it could have been, it would have been the opposite…
The thing is, earlier on, she really didn’t have any real indication for a c/s. one reason for it was that people didn’t want to deal with her crazy screaming anymore.
I’ve had lots of births here where they were headed for a c/s for “CPD” and I helped them birth vaginally…the week before I had another 5th timer with “CPD” who just needed some pit augmentation, a change in position from flat on her back to hands and knees, and then to push back her swollen anterior cervix--then the baby flew out.
Anyway….writing about something never captures the reality in full but atleast it can give an idea.
The students, I am so proud of them. They are doing so well in the hospital. Last week I was able to suture with on eof them and do PPV 2 times with her as well. (PPV=artificial respirations for a baby who needs help to start breathing). It is so satisfying to help someone else do something, to put your hands over theirs and feel them do it with their own hands.
The time here has been flying by. The energy in the house has been easier than in the first several months, which has been so great, because after the first 5 months or so, I was really really FRIED, and the volunteers could see that, and that made some of them feel unwelcome, but there was nothing I could do about that because it was our living situation that was really really unbalanced…the last 2 months have been better--with some breaks from visitors (volunteers) and with Kirsty and Mackenxy moving in a month ago…
Anyway, time is flying and in less than a month, I am leaving Haiti to go to the US for almost 2 months…first I’m going to El Paso for 3 weeks, then to NC for 4 weeks. One of the big reasons for my trip is to go through all my stuff in EL Paso and pack up what I’m keeping and ship it all to NC. So that, when our fiance visa petition gets approved next year hopefully, we can go to NC directly. I feel sad about rapping up my life in El Paso, even though I know I have to and I know that life changes. It was just such a big part of my life for so long, and I feel really connected to the midwives there still. And to the people of Ep Paso/Juarez. I had many friends who birthed in my hands 3-4 times and whose sisters’ and cousins’ births I attended…
I will be so happy to see everyone there again, and relieved to deal with my stuff and move it, but also sad to be wrapping up things there…I would love to visit MLL & El Paso one day with Blada…would love for him to see where I was and for my friends there to meet him…
Also really excited about going to NC and being there with family and friends…
Another part of my trip besides moving my stuff is doing things like renewing my CPR and IV certifications in order to be able to renew my midwifery license when that comes up…hopefully I can do everything I need to on this trip so that I don’t need to leave Haiti again until I leave with Blada…whenever that is…(we hope next year but you never know with stuff like this). And of course the other big thing I am going to do while in EP is to send off our visa petition. That will be such a relief!
This past week at the hospital also, I enlisted the participation of a group of auxilliare students who are in their maternity rotation. The last groups we’ve had, they’ve been awful, so we mostly ignore them. They just sit there all day, not trying to help or learn, playing with their phones…well, the group that started this week is a different story. They are helpful and get their hands in there. I’ve had them come and do massage for laboring moms…I’ve taken time to show them things like explain things to them while I’m suturing…so, we had one birth on Friday where the mom pushed and had her baby on the floor (on a sheet)---and there is a guy in the group, who is really open and had already been doing massage for the laboring mom. So, while she was pushing, I had him squatting behind her supporting her. For like 45 minutes. It was great. This is the only time in their training they will ever see something like this. I talk to them about how to talk to patients. How to be gentle with them and show them that they can trust you. So, it was really great that they could help us in this birth--actually the guy student, he was more positive and helpful than the females. I joked that we will pick him for our next MW class.
7-16-11
So, it has been 2 weeks that the hospital has been without power. The midwives do births at night with their headlamps. There is no functional OR. We’ve had to transport women who needed c-sections to a different hospital in Cange, about 45 min away. If we didn’t have the MWH jeep, some of these transports would have not been possible. Like the woman I wrote about last time, who we transported a week ago, who was stuck at 5cms all day, with thick mec. If the jeep hadn’t been available, she would have eventually lost the baby and if her labor didn’t progress she would have ended up with a ruptured uterus (and would have died).
Not only does the hospital have no power (the whole town of Hinche has no power. Anyone who has power has either solar panels or a generator))---but now, the Red Cross, down the road form the hospital, had all of their 8 solar panels STOLEN a week ago. Which means that all the stored blood was lost, and there is NO blood available for transfusions. There are 2 ladies at the hospital with 4 hemoglobins. There are people worse off than them, I’m sure. Ayway, whoever stole the solar panels is going to cost people their lives. If the town finds out who did it, they will probably kill him. I’m serious. Thieves are punished severely here. One time, Blada witnessed a thief get tied up, beaten and dragged through town, and then burned to death.
Anyway, so the hospital is pretty bad off right now. Sometimes I give some of the patients who are really bad off a little money. Like, a woman in post-op with a 4 hgb whose family is only feeding her some crackers and juice every day, and who doesn’t have money to buy iron injections. One of the students has taken on making food for her and told me about her situation, so I gave her the money to buy the iron. Out of leftover house food money. Sometimes you just have to, people are so bad off.
We had a 15 day postpartum woman come in on Wednesday, having eclamptic seizures. Her parents came with her….she had been seizing all day…we had to restrain her to give her anti-seizure meds because after you’ve been seizing, your brain is abnormal and you are really deranged and out of it---she was trying to bite me and scratch me…the next day, she was a lot better and has been better each day. But she’s not totally here yet. She can’t really speak yet. But, she is holding and BF her baby. Her parents are so dedicated to her…they came from far away, with nothing…nothing to wrap the baby in…everything was dirty…bloody and smelly…so so sad…they didn’t even have a sheet to put down on her bed…I looked through our stuff at the hospital and neither did we…sometimes we have stuff, like baby blankets, baby clothes, etc, but they get used and then there’s nothing…anyway, I gave them some money so they could eat and feed her…really humble and caring people…I talked to them a lot about keeping the baby on the breast, about giving their daughter good food once they get home…
We had another pre-eclamptic woman yesterday, who is 7 months pregnant, 21 years old, who lost her 1st baby at 7 months due to the same condition. I talked with her for a long time yesterday about the fact that right now, her pre-eclampsia appears “light”--it’s not severe/full blown yet, but that that can change at any moment--we had a woman a few weeks ago who had been seen at the hospital 3 days before with a B/P of 90/60 and everything appearing fine, who then came in seizing 3 days later…anyway, I was talking to this woman about the fact that we reall yneed to induce her labor, and that yes, her 7-month old baby probably won’t make it…it was so heart-wrenching because this woman really, really wants her baby…she is still sad about losing the last one…she kept saying that she feels the baby moving in her belly…she kept asking me what I thought were the chances of her baby surviving…at the same time, understanding and resigning herself to the induction, in order to save her own life…
And in talking to her, I just kept coming back to this: that this is so unfair…that in the US, we would be monitoring her condition continuously with blood tests, to know how much longer we could wait to deliver her, to balance the risks for both her and baby and she most likely would not die…it is so unfair that women here have to make this choice…this woman yesterday, she is an intelligent, normal woman, who deserves the options and choices of any other woman…the women here are no less, and they deserve no less.
Yesterday in case studies class with the students, we were talking about eclampsia. I was asking them if they have known women who have had eclamptic seizures, who have either been normal afterwards or been kind of off mentally, or even crazy. (years later). I just wonder, because obviously, you can suffer brain damage from an event like this. Well, almost half of them have had cousins, aunts, sisters, etc who have had eclampsia. This is shocing. This shows how common it is here. All of them said that the people have been normal afterwards. I know that there is different research about how PEC starts, like with placental attachment in the 1st trimester, genetics, etc. but to me, the most obvious cause is malnutrition and dehydration. People here do have chronic dehydration and malnutrition. A pregnant woman needs more of everything, and needs to expand her blood volume by 50% over what it was, by 28 weeks pregnant. These women are HYPOVOLEMIC. They have a thick, contracted blood volume. This leads to placental insufficiency, fetal growth restriction, high blood pressure, kidney damage, etc. the body responds to the hypovolemia the same way it does to a big hemorrhage: the kidneys release renin, to raise to the blood pressure, in order to keep circulating blood through the body, and to the placenta. They also start reabsorbing water, in order to keep the blood volume out. Lack of adequate protein and salt causes plasma (the fluid part of the blood) to leak out of the blood circulation, which causes pathological swelling. This is a simplified explanation of a multifaceted syndrome. There are surely other factors that can exaserbate the process or augment someone’s risk. But, I really feel that this is the underlying cause. It is so clear. When you see it here, it is so clear. When you read about it and put all the pieces together, it is so clear.
The choice that ended up being made, in light of her fervent desire to save her baby if possible, was to bring her to Cange the next morning (this morning), because at least there they have the capacity to care for premature infants…I don’t know if a 7-month baby will make it there, but it’s her only chance.
We only have 3 weeks left of classes, until we start the last 10 weeks of the program, which is almost all clinical. I regret that I will be gone for 2 months of that. I feel really attached to this group of students and will miss them so much and also be sad to miss out on a big part of their learning. There is never a convenient time to leave Haiti. Even though I am excited to come home, to see everyone…it is also hard to leave and I will really miss people here…
What else…the weeks are passing fast.
Monday, June 20, 2011
6-20 june, 2011
6-11-11
Things here are going really well. This is the easiest time so far this year. The students are doing great; we’re over halfway through the class year. The house is way more relaxed--for the 1st 5 months of this class year, starting in January, we had volunteers every single week, with no break. For 5 months. Now, we have had a couple of breaks, and, for over the past month, we have had all really great, really easy (low maintenance) and fun volunteers. And, Kirsty and Mackenzy have now been here for 2 weeks, and this has added a wonderful element to the household. It feels like more of a community now. We’re living with people who we share a lot of things in common with, even just with our lifestyles and overall beliefs…we get along really really well. It is so good. I like Kirsty so much. Also, with them here, and knowing their vision for their life here, it makes living in Haiti more appealing. They have land in the south…they have lots of gardens…
What a blessing. Blada and I are great, just more and more connected and in love with each passage of time. He is so wonderful, I just can’t wait for those of you who can, to meet him when we come to the US. This weekend is our one year anniversary. A year ago, there was a day that marked a change in the course of our friendship. We had already been getting together for awhile, on and off for 1-2 months, to dance. To practice. Well this one day, we had finished practicing, and then their was a huge downpour of rain. A thunderstorm, with lightning, wind…and 2 full arc rainbows in the sky. A beautiful storm, a sign from nature. This day, we danced in the rain. And then sat down and talked for awhile, in the rain. This day, the energy began to shift. This was the beginning of us dating.
Anyway I could go on about that but I’ll leave it there.
Nothing else too spectacular to report…well, one sad event, which repeats itself every 1-2 months without fail: a woman died at the hospital. She was a small woman, who was very pale and weak from anemia. She came in with a hemoglobin of 5, not as low as some people who make it here--got a transfusion after days of waiting for blood, and then was at the hospital still for about 2 weeks. I spent some time with her, talking to her about her ailment (to her it was a sickness that someone had sent upon her with black magic, someone who was jealous of her…)…talking to her about nutrition and all the thing sshe could eat at home for iron…
Well, this came as a surprise to me because I had just seen her 2 days before, but yesterday I heard that she had died. Apparently she started having diarrhea and vomiting. I don’t know if it was cholera--but it definetly could have been, and I think she should have been rushed over to the cholera tents (in front of the hospital) for treatment. Anyway, I guess she got really dehydrated and died. I don’t know more info about it except for that. She had one child.
6-20-11
Well, this week was crazier than last week. Another woman died at the hospital--this time from a placental abruption. I wasn’t there--apparently she had the classic signs--her belly was hard and full of blood (but no external bleeding). Anyway, they didn’t do a c/s--they don’t always do them for abruptions, if the mom isn’t bleeding a lot and she’s stable--but, in this case, she had already lost so much blood when she showed up, it may have been too late anyway even with a c/s (they don’t have blood available in the hospital)…so, she birthed (a dead baby), and then died 1 hour later.
The next day, there 2 eclamptic women--one of them was 16 years old and came in seizing. She was in labor, 6cms. We got her on mag sulfate…I had to leave before she had her baby, but she was pushing when I left. Most of the time when I was there, she was unconscious, after the seizure. She started coming around a little, getting a little responsive…but really out of it, thrashing her body around, really agitated…when she was unconscious, you could still tell when she had a contraction…she would moan and kind of thrash around..it was still hurting her..
Well, she had her baby after I left (the FHT’s were great the whole time I was there, and we were listening often). I guess the baby wasn’t OK when he was born, and needed to be recessed, and then they gave him to the “ped unit”…(it’s not a real ped unit…)…anyway, he died the next day..there were 2 or 3 babies who died this week…1-2 days after they were born…the hospital just doesn’t have any means of giving care to babies who need anything more than IV antibiotics…they don’t even have oxygen to give them…anyway…this mom, I’m not sure how well she’s doing…I haven’t heard any really bad news, but, I heard that the next day, after her birth, she was unconscious again…I guess she seized again….I don’t know if they were monitoring her appropriately and keeping her or mag sulfate to prevent more seizures…
Well, the same day that she birthed, there was another woman, who had a previa. (the placenta is situated over the cervix…so when the cervix starts to open, the placenta separates and the mom bleeds a lot and both mom and bb can die). This woman, at one moment, I thought she was dying in my hands. She was waiting to be wheeled into the OR for a c/s, and I was doing vitals on her. She was bleeding A LOT, and a few times said that she was going to die right there. Well, she lost consciousness at one point, and I opened her eye and looked into it and it looked like it was flat, fixed. I took her B/P, and it sounded like either 40-20 or nothing at all…it was faint. Well, she was still alive and when I took her B/P again, it was actually 80-40. She got her c/s and a blood transfusion and was OK. I don’t know if her baby made it though.
The next day after the 16 year-old eclamptic woman and the placenta previa woman, there was another woman who came in with an abruption, but birthed and was ok, and another woman who was eclamptic, and, to top it off, there was another woman, who had a bowel obstruction and was vomiting shit. I’m not kidding. Thank god, she was transported to Cange and hopefully had her operation STAT and hopefully was ok.
So, this week was crazy. The students see so much here. They are like 6 months into the program and they’re working on super super high risk sick women. Being a midwife in Haiti means that you will work with a high-risk population, no matter what. You will see death, and severe pathology that midwives (and doctors) in the states would never see. People here become midwives because they want to save peoples’ lives. If you ask anyone here why they wanted to be a MW, that is what they say.
Our new housemates, Kirsty and Mackenzy, we are really enjoying them. We flow super easily, enjoy hanging out together, etc. it’s great. We always had a sort of community here at the house, but now, it’s on a totally different level. They’ve started gardens, compost…he’s an agronomist. He’ll be bringing his little daughter here soon too, which will be nice for the house…we already have Jamlex, our cook’s baby, who comes here with here all the time and is SOO much fun (he’s 14 months old…), so this will make it even more like…a family. Really cool.
What else…I’m still trying to figure out in my mind some way to not be affected by the way people can often be in the street…comments all the time about the white girl…I’ve written about this before…anyway, I haven’t found a way to filter it out yet…but it must be possible, because in order to survive at the hospital, I have had to convert myself to not being devastated every time I see birth rape…somehow, as a survival mechanism, I did that, without even realizing it…so it must be possible to filter this out as well…the thing is that with this, the way people make me feel is that I will never fit in, I will always be strange, different…anyway, still working on that…in the meantime it still hurts my feelings all the time, and Blada has spent countless nights holding me in his arms while I cried about it…there has to be a better way…
We visited Blada’s family this weekend in Okap…(Cap Haitian)…it was so nice to be with them…but traveling there and back is exhausting…plus we went on eday and returned the next…it’s a 4-5 hour ride jam-packed in an old pickup truck, that they have to push start…seriously, the whole road is just rocks…you’re bottoming out the whole time, bouncing so hard that you feel like your organs are just slamming against each other constantly…seriously, this is the reality of traveling in Haiti. Since there’s no actual real government that provides any kind of services to its citizens, such as mail service, it’s the chauffeurs who deliver packages and letters for people along the way…part of the way, it was raining, and the road was just all mud…going up and down hills…this guy, the driver, he is so experienced at driving those hills, he was fishtailing on purpose just to get the heavily-loaded truck up and down those hills…you have to cross a few rivers too…(drive through the river)…one time the water was deep enough that it came into the cab of the truck…
All of this is just another day for people here, who, that has always been the way you travel…you have no other option. I don’t mind it, it is interesting, but also very tiring.
The students are doing great. I am really proud of them. They have the right attitude. They really care about the women they serve. It shines through in the ways they talk to the women, and the energy that keeps them on their feet all day instead of sitting down and yelling at patients from across the room…
Well I guess that’s all for now…
Love all fo you…thank you to all fo you for reading my blog and staying current on my life…
Things here are going really well. This is the easiest time so far this year. The students are doing great; we’re over halfway through the class year. The house is way more relaxed--for the 1st 5 months of this class year, starting in January, we had volunteers every single week, with no break. For 5 months. Now, we have had a couple of breaks, and, for over the past month, we have had all really great, really easy (low maintenance) and fun volunteers. And, Kirsty and Mackenzy have now been here for 2 weeks, and this has added a wonderful element to the household. It feels like more of a community now. We’re living with people who we share a lot of things in common with, even just with our lifestyles and overall beliefs…we get along really really well. It is so good. I like Kirsty so much. Also, with them here, and knowing their vision for their life here, it makes living in Haiti more appealing. They have land in the south…they have lots of gardens…
What a blessing. Blada and I are great, just more and more connected and in love with each passage of time. He is so wonderful, I just can’t wait for those of you who can, to meet him when we come to the US. This weekend is our one year anniversary. A year ago, there was a day that marked a change in the course of our friendship. We had already been getting together for awhile, on and off for 1-2 months, to dance. To practice. Well this one day, we had finished practicing, and then their was a huge downpour of rain. A thunderstorm, with lightning, wind…and 2 full arc rainbows in the sky. A beautiful storm, a sign from nature. This day, we danced in the rain. And then sat down and talked for awhile, in the rain. This day, the energy began to shift. This was the beginning of us dating.
Anyway I could go on about that but I’ll leave it there.
Nothing else too spectacular to report…well, one sad event, which repeats itself every 1-2 months without fail: a woman died at the hospital. She was a small woman, who was very pale and weak from anemia. She came in with a hemoglobin of 5, not as low as some people who make it here--got a transfusion after days of waiting for blood, and then was at the hospital still for about 2 weeks. I spent some time with her, talking to her about her ailment (to her it was a sickness that someone had sent upon her with black magic, someone who was jealous of her…)…talking to her about nutrition and all the thing sshe could eat at home for iron…
Well, this came as a surprise to me because I had just seen her 2 days before, but yesterday I heard that she had died. Apparently she started having diarrhea and vomiting. I don’t know if it was cholera--but it definetly could have been, and I think she should have been rushed over to the cholera tents (in front of the hospital) for treatment. Anyway, I guess she got really dehydrated and died. I don’t know more info about it except for that. She had one child.
6-20-11
Well, this week was crazier than last week. Another woman died at the hospital--this time from a placental abruption. I wasn’t there--apparently she had the classic signs--her belly was hard and full of blood (but no external bleeding). Anyway, they didn’t do a c/s--they don’t always do them for abruptions, if the mom isn’t bleeding a lot and she’s stable--but, in this case, she had already lost so much blood when she showed up, it may have been too late anyway even with a c/s (they don’t have blood available in the hospital)…so, she birthed (a dead baby), and then died 1 hour later.
The next day, there 2 eclamptic women--one of them was 16 years old and came in seizing. She was in labor, 6cms. We got her on mag sulfate…I had to leave before she had her baby, but she was pushing when I left. Most of the time when I was there, she was unconscious, after the seizure. She started coming around a little, getting a little responsive…but really out of it, thrashing her body around, really agitated…when she was unconscious, you could still tell when she had a contraction…she would moan and kind of thrash around..it was still hurting her..
Well, she had her baby after I left (the FHT’s were great the whole time I was there, and we were listening often). I guess the baby wasn’t OK when he was born, and needed to be recessed, and then they gave him to the “ped unit”…(it’s not a real ped unit…)…anyway, he died the next day..there were 2 or 3 babies who died this week…1-2 days after they were born…the hospital just doesn’t have any means of giving care to babies who need anything more than IV antibiotics…they don’t even have oxygen to give them…anyway…this mom, I’m not sure how well she’s doing…I haven’t heard any really bad news, but, I heard that the next day, after her birth, she was unconscious again…I guess she seized again….I don’t know if they were monitoring her appropriately and keeping her or mag sulfate to prevent more seizures…
Well, the same day that she birthed, there was another woman, who had a previa. (the placenta is situated over the cervix…so when the cervix starts to open, the placenta separates and the mom bleeds a lot and both mom and bb can die). This woman, at one moment, I thought she was dying in my hands. She was waiting to be wheeled into the OR for a c/s, and I was doing vitals on her. She was bleeding A LOT, and a few times said that she was going to die right there. Well, she lost consciousness at one point, and I opened her eye and looked into it and it looked like it was flat, fixed. I took her B/P, and it sounded like either 40-20 or nothing at all…it was faint. Well, she was still alive and when I took her B/P again, it was actually 80-40. She got her c/s and a blood transfusion and was OK. I don’t know if her baby made it though.
The next day after the 16 year-old eclamptic woman and the placenta previa woman, there was another woman who came in with an abruption, but birthed and was ok, and another woman who was eclamptic, and, to top it off, there was another woman, who had a bowel obstruction and was vomiting shit. I’m not kidding. Thank god, she was transported to Cange and hopefully had her operation STAT and hopefully was ok.
So, this week was crazy. The students see so much here. They are like 6 months into the program and they’re working on super super high risk sick women. Being a midwife in Haiti means that you will work with a high-risk population, no matter what. You will see death, and severe pathology that midwives (and doctors) in the states would never see. People here become midwives because they want to save peoples’ lives. If you ask anyone here why they wanted to be a MW, that is what they say.
Our new housemates, Kirsty and Mackenzy, we are really enjoying them. We flow super easily, enjoy hanging out together, etc. it’s great. We always had a sort of community here at the house, but now, it’s on a totally different level. They’ve started gardens, compost…he’s an agronomist. He’ll be bringing his little daughter here soon too, which will be nice for the house…we already have Jamlex, our cook’s baby, who comes here with here all the time and is SOO much fun (he’s 14 months old…), so this will make it even more like…a family. Really cool.
What else…I’m still trying to figure out in my mind some way to not be affected by the way people can often be in the street…comments all the time about the white girl…I’ve written about this before…anyway, I haven’t found a way to filter it out yet…but it must be possible, because in order to survive at the hospital, I have had to convert myself to not being devastated every time I see birth rape…somehow, as a survival mechanism, I did that, without even realizing it…so it must be possible to filter this out as well…the thing is that with this, the way people make me feel is that I will never fit in, I will always be strange, different…anyway, still working on that…in the meantime it still hurts my feelings all the time, and Blada has spent countless nights holding me in his arms while I cried about it…there has to be a better way…
We visited Blada’s family this weekend in Okap…(Cap Haitian)…it was so nice to be with them…but traveling there and back is exhausting…plus we went on eday and returned the next…it’s a 4-5 hour ride jam-packed in an old pickup truck, that they have to push start…seriously, the whole road is just rocks…you’re bottoming out the whole time, bouncing so hard that you feel like your organs are just slamming against each other constantly…seriously, this is the reality of traveling in Haiti. Since there’s no actual real government that provides any kind of services to its citizens, such as mail service, it’s the chauffeurs who deliver packages and letters for people along the way…part of the way, it was raining, and the road was just all mud…going up and down hills…this guy, the driver, he is so experienced at driving those hills, he was fishtailing on purpose just to get the heavily-loaded truck up and down those hills…you have to cross a few rivers too…(drive through the river)…one time the water was deep enough that it came into the cab of the truck…
All of this is just another day for people here, who, that has always been the way you travel…you have no other option. I don’t mind it, it is interesting, but also very tiring.
The students are doing great. I am really proud of them. They have the right attitude. They really care about the women they serve. It shines through in the ways they talk to the women, and the energy that keeps them on their feet all day instead of sitting down and yelling at patients from across the room…
Well I guess that’s all for now…
Love all fo you…thank you to all fo you for reading my blog and staying current on my life…
Sunday, June 5, 2011
5/26-6/5/11
5-26-11
Today is my birthday!
What a big difference from last year--last year I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with…had a good day, by myself…made the best of it…today, the students insist on coming over to sing to me…after we work at the hospital this morning…I made some cookies and sweet cornbread last night to share…I think it will be sweet…
The rainy season has begun…just about every day it starts raining sometime in the afternoon…sometimes it rains really hard, sometimes it rains slowly and for a long time…it makes everything more beautiful…the trees are greener…there is less dust on the road…it’s cooler…the insects sing more…(I still never hear birds sing…sad…there should be lots of birds here…)
I never got news about the lady with the severe abscess, who we transported to Cange. I think she’s probably at home and OK, however I don’t know if she continued BF her 1 month old baby…
Yesterday though, I did see the other lady we had transported that day…the 24-week pregnant lady with the strangulated hernia…she is OK….coming in every 3rd day for dressing changes on her bandage…so her life was saved, but her life sounds impossibly hard…she was talking to me yesterday, hoping that I could help her with some money…it’s so hard because SO many people have lives that are this hard and need the same help, and you can’t help everyone…I’m here to train midwives, and to provide healthcare…that’s all I can really do…but sometimes I do give people money when I see that that is the only way they’ll make it…anyway, here is her situation: she is staying in Hinche with one daughter, at someone else’s house. The husband of the friend letting her stay there is starting to be outraged at her presence. She’s from really far away in the country and she has 4 other kids out there, with no one taking care of them. They’re on their own. One of them Is 3 years old. Her husband is in the DR working and they have no communication and she doesn’t know when he’s coming back. She has no money, not even for paying to get on a truck to go home. She still needs to come in every 3 days for dressing changes and needs her stitches removed in 2 weeks. So she has to stay in Hinche for atleast that time.
Peoples’ lives are so impossibly hard here. You hear stories like this all the time. And most of them, they’re not exaggerated. That’s the real truth.
5-28-11
I had a really really happy, joyous, fun birthday. It was wonderful. Apparently the students and Marthonie had been planning a surprise party for me since last week. They came and made a party! They were so much fun. This group of women is really special. They are heartfelt, caring, sincere, loving, and FUN. There is one girl in our class who is HILARIOUS. She is one of those people who is always joking, always laughing, always making people laugh. She had me laughing throughout the whole party…some of the students danced together, and she was dancing too, but kind of in a joking way…I wish I had a video of it. I’ll never forget it. The most wonderful thing was that they all came together to show me their love and appreciation for me. It was so real, so unpretentious. One of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. It really is the happiest of them all because now, I’m not missing true love anymore. Blada and I are together, closer every day. So, because of that, I feel like my life is on track, even though sometimes I can barely stand living in Haiti and with the American volunteers.
The past few weeks with volunteers have been really good though. Really great folks who have come through, helped a lot, given us personal space, just been overall really easygoing. That’s been so nice. Now, we have 1 week with no volunteers. Such a blessing to have a little break. We should have a break regularly--it’s not normal to never have a break from people.
Anyway…
We had a really great birth yesterday…this poor lady had been being induced for a couple of days (for pre-eclampsia) and was exhausted…1st baby--finally was close to having her baby…pushing on a 3cm cervix, flailing around, screaming…it was almost time for us to leave…I stayed by her, and got her grandmother to come in too…just stayed there and massaged her and tried to slowly quietly soothe her fears and help her to calm down…well, during this time, of course there were other people standing around, watching, doing nothing to help, even laughing at her as she struggled…(these people are students in an auxilliare school--it’s like nurse’s aid school, 2 years long)…anyway, I usually talk to them about stuff and try to give them advice about how to treat people, but in this l=moment I just ignored them. Well, after awhile of struggling, this woman gave in and relaxed into her labor and let it happen…pretty soon she was complete…pushed her bb out fast, in hands and knees…had a really beautiful birth…I think she tore her cervix, because she was spurting blood at first (not from a vaginal tear), but then it stopped…so we let it be…I had thought that her bb was going to die right after birth, because of being so premature, but, the baby was more weeks than we had thought…maybe 32 or 33...was breathing on his own, and rooting…he looked like he was going to make it when I left…if he nurses a lot and stays warm…if not, he will not make it. So, hopefully.
6-5-11
The above baby DID make it! His mom was rally connected to him and breastfeeding him. I was so happy to hear this a few days ago!
Things here are better than they’ve ever been. Our living situation: the house: it is so much better because we have these new housemates, who we knew were coming and have been waiting for for months. Their names are Kirsty and Mackenzy. She is a Canadian MW and he is her Haitian fiance. They’re really down to earth, relaxed, cool, fun, nice, etc. they’re really into gardening and have already started gardens here. I feel like we can learn a lot from them. Having someone else here to help hold the space & who understands the realities here feels so good. They’re only been here for a week and we already feel so at home together. I feel like a layer of stress has been lifted off of me, because I don’t have to carry the house alone anymore, and interact with the visiting MW’s alone anymore. Thank god. The past few months here, until about a month ago, were really stressful. Getting the house going, starting a new class, having CONSTANT volunteers coming, each week, never ever having a break for ourselves.
There are things that are hard to address with people, such as people walking in here and taking pictures of everyone all the time. It’s a total underlying attitude…what do you say to them about that? Even if you ask someone’s permission to take their picture, and they say yes, that doesn’t mean that they’re really consenting to it…no matter what you do, there is a power differential when you come to a place like this and you have a camera and you are white…people don’t usually know how to say no. to me, it’s voyeuristic and exploitative to come to a place for a week and feel entitled to take all these pictures of people,,,in town, in the hospital…would you walk into a hospital in the US and take peoples’ pictures that you don’t know? I don’t think so. What makes you think that’s ok to do here? Because you paid your money and volunteered? Things like this that fucking drive me crazy sometimes…and I’m the one who’s here each day, seeing people come and go, seeing people repeat the same patterns…asking myself how the people here feel about having their pictures taken by all these white people who they’ll never see again…this is an example of why I’m glad Kirsty is here. To help hold things down and explain things to people so that hopefully they’ll think about it in a real way.
Anyway, like I said, everything has taken a turn for the better since about a month ago. The volunteers have been great, things have flowed more easily, and the house has been less stressful. The place you live shouldn’t be a source of stress in your life. It should be a place to relax and unwind from your work and outside life.
Even though the past month has been really great, I see that I am still processing the undue amount of stress that has been here in our house for the 1st several months of the new class (january-april).
Nothing too crazy at the hospital recently…let’s see…there was a lady who had had eclamptic seizures and was still there and I guess was in a coma the night before…well, she was the most agitated post-eclamptic person I’ve ever seen…she was talking NONSTOP, like a crazy person…going on and on about all kinds of crazy things…total drama about her aunt trying to kill her and just crazy stuff.
Then there was a woman who had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy (the fertilized ovum had embedded in the fallopian tube, which eventually burst, and then she was bleeding internally)---I didn’t see her myself but apparently, she was admitted the day before for abdominal pain,,,the OB did a sono and couldn’t see anything…only fluid…(it was blood)--well the next day apparently she was in more pain, and he did another sono, and still didn’t see anything…so what he did was insert a needle into her abdomen and withdrew to see if there was blood…yes, there was bright red blood…he rushed into the OR with her and operated on her ruptured ectopic pregnancy…she got a blood transfusion…after which her hemoglobin was 5...she really could have died…and would have if he hadn’t done surgery on her when he did…she had already lost a lot of blood…
Anyway…so, yes, things are good here…not too crazy, just moving along. The students are doing great. I taught NNR (neonatal resusitation) to them the other day, and we practiced a lot…they did great…I felt really good about the information I delivered to them…simple, complete, all the essentials.
Blada is great…I love all you guys…
Today is my birthday!
What a big difference from last year--last year I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with…had a good day, by myself…made the best of it…today, the students insist on coming over to sing to me…after we work at the hospital this morning…I made some cookies and sweet cornbread last night to share…I think it will be sweet…
The rainy season has begun…just about every day it starts raining sometime in the afternoon…sometimes it rains really hard, sometimes it rains slowly and for a long time…it makes everything more beautiful…the trees are greener…there is less dust on the road…it’s cooler…the insects sing more…(I still never hear birds sing…sad…there should be lots of birds here…)
I never got news about the lady with the severe abscess, who we transported to Cange. I think she’s probably at home and OK, however I don’t know if she continued BF her 1 month old baby…
Yesterday though, I did see the other lady we had transported that day…the 24-week pregnant lady with the strangulated hernia…she is OK….coming in every 3rd day for dressing changes on her bandage…so her life was saved, but her life sounds impossibly hard…she was talking to me yesterday, hoping that I could help her with some money…it’s so hard because SO many people have lives that are this hard and need the same help, and you can’t help everyone…I’m here to train midwives, and to provide healthcare…that’s all I can really do…but sometimes I do give people money when I see that that is the only way they’ll make it…anyway, here is her situation: she is staying in Hinche with one daughter, at someone else’s house. The husband of the friend letting her stay there is starting to be outraged at her presence. She’s from really far away in the country and she has 4 other kids out there, with no one taking care of them. They’re on their own. One of them Is 3 years old. Her husband is in the DR working and they have no communication and she doesn’t know when he’s coming back. She has no money, not even for paying to get on a truck to go home. She still needs to come in every 3 days for dressing changes and needs her stitches removed in 2 weeks. So she has to stay in Hinche for atleast that time.
Peoples’ lives are so impossibly hard here. You hear stories like this all the time. And most of them, they’re not exaggerated. That’s the real truth.
5-28-11
I had a really really happy, joyous, fun birthday. It was wonderful. Apparently the students and Marthonie had been planning a surprise party for me since last week. They came and made a party! They were so much fun. This group of women is really special. They are heartfelt, caring, sincere, loving, and FUN. There is one girl in our class who is HILARIOUS. She is one of those people who is always joking, always laughing, always making people laugh. She had me laughing throughout the whole party…some of the students danced together, and she was dancing too, but kind of in a joking way…I wish I had a video of it. I’ll never forget it. The most wonderful thing was that they all came together to show me their love and appreciation for me. It was so real, so unpretentious. One of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. It really is the happiest of them all because now, I’m not missing true love anymore. Blada and I are together, closer every day. So, because of that, I feel like my life is on track, even though sometimes I can barely stand living in Haiti and with the American volunteers.
The past few weeks with volunteers have been really good though. Really great folks who have come through, helped a lot, given us personal space, just been overall really easygoing. That’s been so nice. Now, we have 1 week with no volunteers. Such a blessing to have a little break. We should have a break regularly--it’s not normal to never have a break from people.
Anyway…
We had a really great birth yesterday…this poor lady had been being induced for a couple of days (for pre-eclampsia) and was exhausted…1st baby--finally was close to having her baby…pushing on a 3cm cervix, flailing around, screaming…it was almost time for us to leave…I stayed by her, and got her grandmother to come in too…just stayed there and massaged her and tried to slowly quietly soothe her fears and help her to calm down…well, during this time, of course there were other people standing around, watching, doing nothing to help, even laughing at her as she struggled…(these people are students in an auxilliare school--it’s like nurse’s aid school, 2 years long)…anyway, I usually talk to them about stuff and try to give them advice about how to treat people, but in this l=moment I just ignored them. Well, after awhile of struggling, this woman gave in and relaxed into her labor and let it happen…pretty soon she was complete…pushed her bb out fast, in hands and knees…had a really beautiful birth…I think she tore her cervix, because she was spurting blood at first (not from a vaginal tear), but then it stopped…so we let it be…I had thought that her bb was going to die right after birth, because of being so premature, but, the baby was more weeks than we had thought…maybe 32 or 33...was breathing on his own, and rooting…he looked like he was going to make it when I left…if he nurses a lot and stays warm…if not, he will not make it. So, hopefully.
6-5-11
The above baby DID make it! His mom was rally connected to him and breastfeeding him. I was so happy to hear this a few days ago!
Things here are better than they’ve ever been. Our living situation: the house: it is so much better because we have these new housemates, who we knew were coming and have been waiting for for months. Their names are Kirsty and Mackenzy. She is a Canadian MW and he is her Haitian fiance. They’re really down to earth, relaxed, cool, fun, nice, etc. they’re really into gardening and have already started gardens here. I feel like we can learn a lot from them. Having someone else here to help hold the space & who understands the realities here feels so good. They’re only been here for a week and we already feel so at home together. I feel like a layer of stress has been lifted off of me, because I don’t have to carry the house alone anymore, and interact with the visiting MW’s alone anymore. Thank god. The past few months here, until about a month ago, were really stressful. Getting the house going, starting a new class, having CONSTANT volunteers coming, each week, never ever having a break for ourselves.
There are things that are hard to address with people, such as people walking in here and taking pictures of everyone all the time. It’s a total underlying attitude…what do you say to them about that? Even if you ask someone’s permission to take their picture, and they say yes, that doesn’t mean that they’re really consenting to it…no matter what you do, there is a power differential when you come to a place like this and you have a camera and you are white…people don’t usually know how to say no. to me, it’s voyeuristic and exploitative to come to a place for a week and feel entitled to take all these pictures of people,,,in town, in the hospital…would you walk into a hospital in the US and take peoples’ pictures that you don’t know? I don’t think so. What makes you think that’s ok to do here? Because you paid your money and volunteered? Things like this that fucking drive me crazy sometimes…and I’m the one who’s here each day, seeing people come and go, seeing people repeat the same patterns…asking myself how the people here feel about having their pictures taken by all these white people who they’ll never see again…this is an example of why I’m glad Kirsty is here. To help hold things down and explain things to people so that hopefully they’ll think about it in a real way.
Anyway, like I said, everything has taken a turn for the better since about a month ago. The volunteers have been great, things have flowed more easily, and the house has been less stressful. The place you live shouldn’t be a source of stress in your life. It should be a place to relax and unwind from your work and outside life.
Even though the past month has been really great, I see that I am still processing the undue amount of stress that has been here in our house for the 1st several months of the new class (january-april).
Nothing too crazy at the hospital recently…let’s see…there was a lady who had had eclamptic seizures and was still there and I guess was in a coma the night before…well, she was the most agitated post-eclamptic person I’ve ever seen…she was talking NONSTOP, like a crazy person…going on and on about all kinds of crazy things…total drama about her aunt trying to kill her and just crazy stuff.
Then there was a woman who had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy (the fertilized ovum had embedded in the fallopian tube, which eventually burst, and then she was bleeding internally)---I didn’t see her myself but apparently, she was admitted the day before for abdominal pain,,,the OB did a sono and couldn’t see anything…only fluid…(it was blood)--well the next day apparently she was in more pain, and he did another sono, and still didn’t see anything…so what he did was insert a needle into her abdomen and withdrew to see if there was blood…yes, there was bright red blood…he rushed into the OR with her and operated on her ruptured ectopic pregnancy…she got a blood transfusion…after which her hemoglobin was 5...she really could have died…and would have if he hadn’t done surgery on her when he did…she had already lost a lot of blood…
Anyway…so, yes, things are good here…not too crazy, just moving along. The students are doing great. I taught NNR (neonatal resusitation) to them the other day, and we practiced a lot…they did great…I felt really good about the information I delivered to them…simple, complete, all the essentials.
Blada is great…I love all you guys…
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