Danielle's Day at Diquini Hospital - Tuesday

As I drove to Diquini for a 90 minute drive on a school bus today, I thought about writing this blog tonight. I thought about how I felt like a very small Band-Aide on a disaster so vast that I didn't even have the vocabulary to describe it. I felt like my contribution here is so minuscule that it may make no difference to this country as a whole. There were piles of rubble all over the streets next to make-shift tent cities next to piles of garbage next to marketplaces filed with chaos and the poorest people I have ever seen in my life. I grew up in El Paso next and visited our housekeepers in Juarez Mexico, I had seen poor. This is a truly a new level.
On the bus ride I marveled how happy and fun-loving our Haitian interpreters were. They are 20 year-olds with great manners, good English and amazing work ethics. They were passing their cell phones back and forth and laughing like teenagers in America. How could they be so happy in this crumbling country?When we arrived at Diquini Hospital there were people lined up for at least a mile waiting for care. This hospital is an actual hospital structure. I actually met with several PT's to divide up the caseload - now this is feeling quite American-like. My first patient was a 23 year old who was born with club feet who had been discovered by a group of post-earthquake MDs. She had been walking her entire life on her knees. She had no family and one friend. This is what happens in 3rd world countries to babies born with disabilities. (fighting tears #1). The surgeons here straightened out her knees which is beyond painful and I fear not at all functional. When I came to see her for my second or third visit of the day she said she was itching. I gently scratched her legs the way I do with Jessica and Josh. I told her that my children love when I do this to them and she smiled.

I asked the RN or maybe she was a C.N.A or just a gal for pain meds for my 23 year old. She digs around in a empty glove box and pulls out a ziplock sandwich bag labeled Vicodin. She hands me a pill to give to the patient. Medicare violation #100 for the day.

I was assigned a 6 year old who has been here for months with burns from before the earthquake. I could barely hold back the tears to even look at her. Way to close to Jessica's age. I asked a younger (Non-Mom) to see her and then as the day progressed we all worked with her. I wear empathy on my sleeve, well really my face.My 23 year old somehow missed the meal of the day. I went down to the kitchen to ask for food. The kitchen was disgusting. I mean worse then any Chinese restaurant on the back roads of Texas. I had to beg for some bread for her. I was about to pay 5 dollars for it and she finally gave me some cheese and bread.

When patients are discharged from the hospital they transfer to tents on the grounds. Some tents are like the ones we camp in and others house 20 people. I met an educated man who had lost his leg in the Earthquake. He had computers, video equipment and was a software engineer. He was heading to Oklahoma next week for a new leg. What money buys.
I assessed patients with amputations who were hopeful they would receive prosthetics. Many of the women were very devoted to their exercise programs, while others were developing contractures, meaning they will not be getting new legs.

I spent the last hour organizing the hospital supply closet with some other PTs. This closet represents the situation in Haiti - Large, disorganized, millions of dollars of supplies that are expired by 10 years, and very dirty. I honestly feel this is what Haiti needs to do - organize. I would not know where to start either.

As I drove home I started to notice the buildings that were being rebuilt. I had not noticed them on the drive to Diquini. Maybe I am only one little band-aide, but I do feel that I helped a few people feel loved and cared for today.
Danielle