This past week I had the pleasure of joining a group of doctors, nurses, dentists, and other personal from Kurtz Humanitarian Initiative for Southwestern Honduras (KHISH) to help with a medical brigade. Never heard of a medical brigade before? This term usually refers to a group of medical professionals that go to an area with little healthcare access and provide the bare necessities to the people who live there. Sometimes they have a focus like general surgery, eyes, teeth, etc. It all depends on the focus of the professionals. Here's a pic of the team.
I joined them for the second week of their mission this year. The first week was ophthamologists doing cataract surgeries. I believe there were around 95 done! That is part of Vision Project Honduras. The second week (where I joined them) was spent going to two villages (the same ones they go to every year, for 8 years) and giving general consults.
My job as a nurse was spent taking blood pressures and temperatures. I also was used in helping with translating between the doctors and the patients. I'm not sure what the final count of patients seen was. I know it was a LOT! I found that most people come through as actually somewhat healthy, usually complaining of "cold and cough" or "stomach ache, headache, fever, knee/back pain, lack of appetite, dizziness, etc." Basic stuff. And we realized most of them were not actually experiencing it in the moment, but were looking for meds for when they were. Which I suppose is fair, when there is like nothing out there for when you do get sick, or if you don't have the money for it. It's kind of tricky for a bunch of gringos though, who in the U.S. are some of the best in their specialties, to come to Honduras and work with the least educated, materially-poor in the country. I'm just talking about the difference in their environment and the patients/culture they work with. We gave out a lot of Ibuprofen, cough medicine, de-parasiting meds, vitamins for all the children, etc. It often feels like a big old band-aid placed on top of a huge wound. But in many senses, a bandaid is better than an oozing wound without an treatment at all. Plus many are helped beyond that. KHISH has a relationship with an amazing Honduran doctor, Dr. Moreno, who quarterly comes into these same villages and monitors/follows up those with diabetes and high blood pressure. Others are monitored for epilepsy, congenital heart problems, etc. Dr. Moreno has no financial interest in this, I don't believe, which really speaks to the kind of person he is. I was blessed to get to work with him and really, all of the volunteers, including the bilingual Honduran translators from the capital city Tegucigalpa.
Probably the most impacting thing for me was my involvement is the case of a little boy named Jose David, 11 years old. He was walking around in the clinic with his mom and little sister there too. He was trying to sell green mangoes. He had his elbow and leg wrapped with some dirty gauze. When we tried to get him to sit down so we could look at his wounds, he ran off and pouted. Finally he let us look at his leg wound. We cleaned it, and realized it was obviously infected. I, knowing what I know about the cleanliness in the hills of Honduras, was sure that the elbow had to be worse. Supposedly he had had surgery beforehand and they had put a pin in his elbow, as it had been broken. It had not been immobilized. The mother had been changing/cleaning the wound daily. But how is a young single mother from the country going to really know how to assess a wound and know what to do when it starts oozing pus? Dr. Barbara decided he needed antibiotics, and some gauzes, etc to send home. At that time his mother had already gone home. So I got to go to his house to give the antibiotics to his mother. I had made a goal with that visit that I would get Jose to show me his elbow. I was afraid it was going to be a disaster. In the end, he calmed down, stopped running away and let me look at it. Turns out he was just embarrassed! He wasn't afraid of the pain, he was embarrassed of his ugly elbow! So when I unwrapped his elbow, the pin was sticking out of his elbow, he had some tissue growth in a little ball around it, and a nice little pus leaving the wound. I cleaned it, and told his mom that if it was at all possile, she needed to get the boy to the hospital. I had no idea if she had the money to even pay the busfare there or not. I asked our leaders if we could just take him with us that night to the hotel, as we were going to make the trip to the hospital the next day anyways. But then you face the problem of "do it for one, you have to do it for all, where do you start?" So in the end, I really hope that the momma could get Jose to the hospital to get it debrided, etc. I'm not sure what truth I take out of that. That poor people are just 'out of luck,' that Jose was lucky for my help (yeah, not really, I wasn't able to do anything), or that maybe his mom felt good for having the attention of people who really cared for her and the health of her little boy. Who knows??? Whatever it is, WHAT an experience for me. It surprised me, yet at the same time, after 2 years, not too much really surprises me anymore.
That week was significant for me in other ways as well. For the first time in a long long time here, I felt valued for my abilities. I felt appreciated for my knowledge of what I know about Honduras, for my Spanish speaking abilities. I felt valued for who I am as a person. I felt loved and accepted into the group. It could be that I was just happy to be immersed in people who understand me again, since they are from my culture. I felt cared for, I did not feel taken advantage of or exploited. I enjoyed the company of the gringos and the Hondurans. Phew. Talk about serious relief. Too bad I didn't have this week a couple of months earlier. But I know that God's timing is perfect, and it was at this time for a reason. And I am thankful.
Others news: I am heading home in less than 2 months. How's that for crazy?! So obviously, I am going to ask for your prayers in wisdom for me to know what to do with myself when I get home. For cultural re-integration, for wisdom in knowing where to look for a job, and which direction to take with my life. It's such a blessing to have options! I look at the people I just was with in the villages, and I realize they have no options or opportunities. So as it is said, "to whom much is given, much is expected."
Also, as I close up here, pray that I will make good decisions. That I will be able to sell all of my furniture, fridge, oven, etc.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this post, and that this reflection was not only beneficial to me as I process the last week. Blessings to you, I always welcome your comments!!! :)
Hugs, Malerie
