I’m splitting up my blog post of Haiti into 3 different parts. I
have a lot to say about my last trip and I don’t want to overdo it by writing one
big post. Part I will be the introduction and the first story. Part II will be
the rest of the stories from Haiti, including the baby I attempted to help
save, Dahicha, and Part III will be about the picture taken of me performing
CPR. I’ll probably upload the posts about a week apart.
Never have the words
“it’s the little things that count” been more true than on this trip in Haiti.
In a constant battle that have worse odds than any casino game, you need to
take the small victories in order to survive here. Working here is like a game of
cards. No matter how skilled you are, sometimes you are just dealt a bad hand
of cards that make it impossible to win. In Haiti, it’s no different. Sometimes
patients come in with injuries so extensive or diseases in such an advanced
stage that there is nothing that can possibly be done. That happens everywhere.
Those aren't the hardest ones. The hardest ones are the ones where you have a
chance. Where you’re dealt a hand that looks good, but the dealer just gets a
better hand than you or you take a risk that doesn't pan out. Those are the
hardest ones. The ones that we have a chance to help but for whatever reason,
be it a lack of money, tests, beds, materials, or medicine, we lose. In the
game of life and death here, there’s no margin for error. You can be the most
skilled doctor in the world, but Haiti will always have the odds in the battle.
A battle where the stakes are life or death. I find it very difficult to
explain what we're up against here to other people so to put what we’re dealing
with in Haiti in numbers, here are some stats about Haiti.
- Haiti is the poorest country in
the Western Hemisphere. It’s GDP per capita is $820. The GDP per capita of
the United States is over $53,000.
- Over 50% of the 10 million
citizens in Haiti live off of less than $1/day.
- Over 80% of the 10 million
citizens in Haiti live off of less than $2/day.
- About 40% of Haiti does not
have access to clean drinking water.
- About 2% of Haitians between
the ages of 15 and 49 are infected with HIV/AIDS, among the highest rates
in the Caribbean.
Seeing this, it’s no
wonder you need to rely on the few good things in order to survive here, no
matter how small they are. I’m not coming here thinking I can change Haiti. I’m
coming here to help in the little bit that I am able to do.
He who saves a life saves a whole world
There’s nothing I can do
in a week to change this country. But that doesn't mean I’m useless. Every
little thing that I do, that anyone does, makes a difference. Like a puzzle,
every little piece that is put together counts. Eventually, put enough tiny
pieces together, and these pieces that were once spread everywhere and formed
nothing, now create a finished piece of art. The little things, like holding a
baby and making it smile or even helping save the life of a special needs baby
makes a difference. Those are the victories. Those few times where you can
stare right into the eyes of Haiti and say "I win." The reason we
fight an opponent so much stronger and bigger than us. The reason we get
knocked down 100 times, but we always get right back up. Because that one
victory, no matter how small it is, makes everything worth it.
Round 1
It didn't take long for
Haiti to throw the first punch. We got into Haiti on a Saturday morning and as
soon as I stepped off the plane, I could tell I was in Haiti. It was 10 in the
morning and the temperatures were already creeping towards triple digits. Haiti
gave us a nice, warm, sweaty welcome. Luckily, we didn't have to start our
shifts until the next day. At 7AM on Sunday I was outside, waiting for patients
to be brought to me. For a Sunday, it was a rather busy day. I saw quite a few
patients but there was nothing too serious right away. And then that all
changed. On the way to Haiti, I had wondered when and if I was going to have to
perform CPR on this trip. That answer came pretty quickly.
Sometime in the afternoon, a car came driving
in, honking incessantly at the gate. Immediately she was let into the compound
and a Haitian EMT went to go see what the problem was. Instantly he looked up
at me, and motioned me over to help. As I jogged over next to him, I saw
exactly what I had hoped not to see. A bloodied woman in the back seat of the
car who appeared to be unconscious. I jumped into the backseat of the car and
the EMT looked at me and bluntly said “I don’t think she’s breathing”.
Adrenaline rushed through my body as I realized that Haiti had just thrown the
first punch. The fight had already started, and Haiti was going to show no
mercy, even on my first shift there. Quickly, I listened for signs of breathing
as I tried to find a pulse. Nothing. What next? Everyone was looking at me for
the call. My mind was rushing. I tried to stay calm. Take things one step at a
time, Jesse. Step back for half a second and analyze the situation. What’s
going on? There is a middle-aged woman in the back of a car, bloodied and not
breathing. But we were in the middle of the compound, with 100 degree weather
and dozens of curious Haitian eyes beaming down on us. Clearly CPR needed to be
started. The doctor needed to be found. She needed to be transported to the
emergency room STAT. All eyes were on me for the next move. As the adrenaline
rushed through my veins, I looked at the Haitian EMTs and told them to get her
out of the car, onto a stretcher and into the ER to start CPR. I was going to
go find the doctor.
As I turned and ran
through the hospital, I saw nothing but what was in front of me. Haiti had struck
first, and had struck mightily. That first punch stunned me, but I had
recovered and I wasn’t going down without a fight. Quickly, I found the doctor
and ran back to help the Haitian EMTs who were just then getting her out of the
car. We quickly got her onto a stretcher and began CPR while we were still wheeling
her into the ER. With sweat dripping down my forehead, I quickly got in
position and took over doing CPR. For the next 2 minutes, I was going to be her
heart. I was the only thing keeping her blood pumping. 2 minutes later, someone
took over CPR for me and I became her lungs, breathing for her through a BVM
device. I switched back and forth between being her heart and her lungs but alas,
even with CPR, after about 20 minutes, the ultrasound of her heart showed no
cardiac rhythm. We ceased CPR and the time of death was called. It wasn't until
later that we got the kicker. This was the third hospital she had been to after
being hit by a car. She was alive at the other two, but they turned her away
because her condition was too severe. They didn’t even try to stabilize her. By
the time she had gotten to our hospital, it was too late. That was another person
dead in Haiti that could have been saved in the States. A family now must bury
their loved one. Like so many deaths in Haiti, it could have been prevented had
it happened somewhere else. Touché Haiti, you have taken round 1.
Haiti 1
Us 0
It was a hard loss to
swallow, Haiti really knocked me down in the first round, but I quickly regained
my composure and prepared myself for round 2. The rest of Sunday and Monday
were relatively quiet and Tuesday we had our day off, but as soon as Wednesday
rolled around, Haiti came out swinging. The rest of the week was a non-stop
boxing match between Haiti and me. This fight went many more rounds, but I was
not about to give up and roll over. No, I was there to fight. Because it doesn’t
matter how many times you get knocked down, what matters is how many times you
get back up. Because if I never get back up, I will never win a round.
To Be Continued.
