So I just got back from Esquipulas. It’s the site where Michael Anderson, Waconia and SJU, volunteered two years ago. A 24 member medical team from Catholic HeathCare West (California, Nevada, and Arizona) came to town and needed some extra help. It was really great. We worked REALLY hard, but talking about rewarding. Just the amount you learn being around all these doctors and medical professionals is remarkable. We had a septic baby the first day, seizures and all. It was pretty scary, but luckily we had a full pharmacy set up so they were able to give the injections immediately to try and stabilize him before rushing to the hospital for a full septic set-up. I hope he recovers, but the doctors thought he had meningitis, which is hard for a 26 day old to recover from. The worst part of the whole situation was that the local doctor that was with us wanted to send the baby home with Tylenol. Then, word for word said, “Call me on Saturday, but don’t come in to the clinic.” Basically wanted to cut the loss and not waste time or medicine on the baby. It turned into an argument with our doctors who pretty much told him, “f*#@ you, we are giving him drugs and sending him to the hospital regardless of what you think.” (Spurred on by one of the nurses that was rightly fired up about the situation)
It obviously made me feel better that we were doing the right thing, but at the same time this situation points to a much larger problem. With such limited resources, the doctors here are forced to be realists. They are not heartless human beings. They share the same compassion for helping people that all the doctors on the American team exert, but with the baby’s long-term diagnosis he couldn’t rationalize ‘wasting’ medicine. It is a concept difficult for us to fathom in the States. I know I struggled with it all day.
We also had a lady come in for generalized body pain. She had her 15-year-old daughter with her, who was holding the mom’s infant daughter. After her examination and discharge, the woman just stayed sitting on the bench. She didn’t want to leave. One of the doctors was able to read the situation, and brought her back in. After a long support session, it came out that the woman’s 15-year-old daughter was four months pregnant – with her husband’s baby. The stepdad had more than likely raped the child and now she was pregnant. The mother was irate, but hadn’t said anything because the father threatened to kill her.
Doctors in the US are obligated to report situations like these. But here, things are different. Death threats like these need to be taken very seriously. Most people carry guns, or at least have them, so situations escalate very quickly. Unfortunately, safe-houses and a just judicial system don’t exist. While discussing what to do, our local contact told us, “She won’t live a year if you report this. Additionally, you guys won’t ever be able to return here because he knows she talked to the ‘American’ doctors.” The doctors are desperately trying to figure something out, but I had to return to Cobán before we found a solution, if one even exists. I know this story probably breaks every patient-doctor confidentiality agreement known to man, but I needed to tell it. It still has me off my rocker. I said I was going to write about “the good, the bad AND the ugly.”
On a lighter note, I split my time between the pharmacy and working as a triage ‘nurse.’ While taking vitals, the team ‘camera man,’ who is also a doctor, decided to get me in an ‘action shot’ – yes, cheesy I know. Anyway, he starts making fun of me for being really slow at taking this lady’s blood pressure. After getting the same number twice, I move to try her other arm as well and he just starts ruthlessly making fun of me. I then tell him that I need him to double-check my number (hopefully we don’t give this lady a blood clot in the process) because I got 225/110. I didn’t think that high of a number was even possible, so I am totally doubting myself. He gets the same number. My self-esteem goes up.
We move her up the line and get her into a doctor quickly. The doctor comes out, takes my equipment and without saying anything leaves. She comes back. Looks at me and says, “Oh my God. It’s real.” She is from Panama, so that expression with her accent just got me laughing. So now I know – it is possible to be alive with blood pressure twice the healthy range.
In the evenings, the doctors took us out to REALLY nice restaurants. They can’t afford to get sick from contaminated food, so they demand the best! This is awesome though, because we got to come along on their tab the whole time. Drinks too!!! The last night, the three women that head the medical mission met with us and said they will right letters of recommendations, job search, help with scholarships, anything for us. What a great group of people!
Check out their website (with pictures of our work):
http://missionsblog.chwHEALTH.org/
Miss you all back home-
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