Friday May 14, 2010 (happy birthday jackanoonie)

I don't know what to say. Writing about disease and death sometimes gets old. But alas, that is what is here. Sometimes the frustration of this country overtakes you. It's hard not to get frustrated with the reign of bad luck, infection, and damage here. It seems sometimes that everything bad that could happen, happens. But then again, maybe it's just my pessimism coming out. Haiti is in a world of its own. Like someone from the visiting team said today, "Haiti is a whole different kind of animal" compared to other parts of the world, and I think they are right. The more you learn and experience Haiti, the more complicated it gets.

Tuesday, we lost a fourteen year old girl in the hospital. She had been admitted for only four or five days, with a diagnosis of tuberculosis. Her lungs seem to be getting worse the last few days. Monday night she was having a hard time breathing and was just starting to look bad, so we started her on some different medicines to cover her for other possible diagnoses. She was still with us Monday morning, but was gone by the afternoon. For the life of me, I don't know what happened and that is one of the hardest things about being here. With no clear answers, you are continually asking yourself, did we miss something? Could we have done something more or something different? Was there something spiritually oppressive going on here? There was some evidence that the family was deep into voodoo stuff and some random uncle had come in Monday morning after we left the hospital and performed some "procedure" involving smoke around the sick girl in her bed. I don't know what happened, physically or spiritually.

One thing I do know is how deep these thoughts are cemented in the culture; I'm sure far more than I can ever comprehend. As soon as the girl died in her bed I noticed several of the patients wearing red bandanas; even the ones I know are not into voodoo. I just stood quietly outside the hospital as a crowd soon gathered to watch, as the mother was making her show of wailing, as is customary here. I went to talk to Shinaika (the 6 year old post heart failure who now was wearing a red bandana) through the window. Why are you wearing that? I asked. My mom put it on me. She said. Why? To protect us. Only people who are sick wear it. I had never seen this before and don't know if that's because I have never noticed or if it was significant for the person who died or the way she died. It's still a mystery. I can't fight this. All I could do was tell Shinaika that yes, sometimes you are scared, but all you have to do is talk to Jesus; he can be inside you, and then you don't have to be afraid. Sometimes it feels like our message of Christ has a hard time getting through all the crap that is here.

Wednesday, our baby boy passed as well. He was still having fevers every day despite antibiotics and malaria treatment. All I can think is the HIV took him. Wednesday, quite quickly he took a turn for the worst. He started to gulp for air with each breath, and we could all see we were losing him quickly. That evening, a large group of the family came to get him. The mother had called them as she saw he was suffering and that the end was near. We didn't know until they were all there and had talked together that they all wanted to go, including the mother who is also hospitalized due to her HIV. After some hard deliberation, we decided it would be better to let them go; it's better to die at home, if that's what the mother wanted. She has plans to return for her own treatment after the funeral is done, which I think she will be true to. I heard later he died on the road home, most likely in someones arms. He was three months; most likely HIV positive.

And just so we all don't give up due to frustration, it's necessary to remember some light: Mercelia, who came in two months ago with pulmonary TB is going home tomorrow. She was bedridden and maybe 70 pounds at the beginning and now is up and about and never comes short in giving us some attitude every so often. Her two year old daughter showed up about a month into her treatment who was also obviously sick. After some uncertainty of diagnoses, we were able to take her to the hospital in LaPointe, where she also tested positive for TB. She is now staying at House of Hope in LaPointe (one of the best long term care facilities for children) for the duration of her treatment. She now has a chance for the rest of her life. And Monday night there was a delivery of twins, who were actually already delivered when they arrived in the truck at the clinic. They are healthy, strong boys, and all was joyous in the clinic that night except for me when the placentas landed on my foot when we cut the cords...sick, is all I have to say about that.