Tuesday February 17, 2009

I’m so glad it’s Tuesday. I think it’s my favorite day of the week. So calm and mild, like the aftermath of the storm that is Monday, market day, and a clinic hopping with millions of very impatient Haitians. Yesterday - crazy. Here was my day in a nutshell. Hospital at 8am, rounds included giving TB meds, Unicef milk to six of our kids in for malnutrition, breast pumping, and checking in with our heart failure and HIV patients. I read Anne-Marie’s note she left for me and talked with Fagenson’s mom (7 yr old malnutrition) and he is going home today! We will switch him over to outpatient mamba and have him come every two weeks for weigh in and check up. He’s already gained 3.5 kg since a month ago and is starting to cause all kinds of 7 year old trouble in the hospital so we concluded he’s well enough to go home. He came in with Kwashiorkor, so it’s pretty amazing he’s doing so well. After rounds I ran back to the house to dump my stuff and wash milk jugs and hurry to the clinic to help with the mass of people I know is already there. I was expecting three TB patients to come for their monthly check ups and meds, but it quickly turned into nine people waiting for me - thank you all for coming on the wrong day! And all of them gently reminding me (ok not so gently) that they were still waiting… good thing I had packed all the meds for the week so I could grab them quickly. To my delight, however, Terna is here (a previous impatient 9 year old girl with TB of the spine, who had stayed with us for 2 months last year). I am so happy to see her I could kiss her, and I did. She is able to stand up straight now! After I got through all the rendez-vous, I tended to a boy who had sliced his foot pretty good and took off the end of his pinky toe with a machete the day before. After some cleaning and bandage, he was ready to go. I clean up a little and restock my backpack (my pharmacy). I ran down the road to the market to see if there was anything good left. I love and hate the market. Love it because it’s interesting and usually just a good time, but hate it because I’m white and turn into the spotlight. “Blan, blan!” People follow me around, demanding things from me. “Ba mwen di goud”. I’ve learned it’s best not to get irritated, but just dish it right back to them. Making a joke always works.

Then I hear this drumming and singing down the road like a parade. Sure enough, what’s coming I soon found out was some sort of voodoo party. Women all dressed alike, tied with red, blue, and yellow sashes around their waists and heads, dancing and singing to the drums. It drew a big crowd and everybody ran to see what was going on. I was half shocked, half super intrigued since I had never seen something like this in the middle of the day and in the middle of the road, let alone in the middle of the market. My new friend, Edmond, a patient from the hospital, found me, so we had a good time as he tried to explain what was going on. I still don’t know the occasion, since everyone I asked had a different answer, but the witchdoctor was among the party and apparently they were going to sacrifice a bull at his house later. Edmonds says they are crazy and how they were dancing was ugly (um…his words, not mine!) and everyone I asked at the market said straight out it was all for Satan. Amazing really, how something like that is so overt, so out in the open. It helps me understand this place a little better.

I finally realize I have to go. I run back up to my house with my purchases: carrots, mi gwen (water chestnut-like), sweet potatoes, bananas, cookies, and piece of sweet ginger bread I’m eating on the way. I had to make another batch of milk before I ran back down to the hospital to make evening rounds. I give the milk to the kids and check in with as many people as possible before it’s time to go to Rob and Anne-Marie’s for dinner (for the bomb rice and beans made by a great Haitian cook!). After dinner, I wander back down to the hospital to check in with a few patients I missed and chat with a few people. It’s good for my creole and for building relationships and just for a little humor, especially tonight because Edmond is trying to pronounce words in Dutch and everyone is almost rolling on the ground laughing…

I finally call it a day and walk back home with my empty milk jugs and my headlight below a clear sky of stars. Jacques has kept some water warmed up by the sun for me to shower with and it…is…nice.