Trail Mix

Maybe all those Maytag repairmen who have nothing to do could catch a flight to Haiti and fix our internet. It has been out for three weeks now, and while we did finally get a new modem after two and a half weeks, it'll probably take at least that long for someone to come from Port to actually hook it up. So I will begin this monumental task of trying to write a post on an iPhone.
I just have a random batch of stories to tell, so the title seemed appropriate, seeing as how a lot of you have been camping, either at the apple festival or at camp. I hope they were great weekends, and I was definitely thinking about and missing you all. Also, I was told my dad was dancing?! I sure hope there are pictures. Anyways, moving on...
So the day following my last post, Leah and I were heading out to a tent city to see a list of people Audrey had given us. We only found half of them, but saw many more as we were practically swarmed upon getting out of our vehicle. That morning we went to the clinic to get supplies for the day, and we also wanted to grab some things to remove moto accident man's stitches. Unfortunately, that didn't all go through clearly in the translation. Hermicia thought we were putting stitches in as well, so she gave us silk and a needle. She also handed us a scalpel. We decided we'd just take it all and save everyone further confusion. So after returning from a draining day in the tent city, we walked to this man's house. I discovered too late that the scissors I had were too big to get between the stitches and the skin, but I did manage to get one loose one out. Then I paused, contemplating whether I should just take the shot to my pride and tell him I'd have to come back later. At about the same time, Leah and I remembered that I was still carrying around a scalpel. She was excited. I was not. Sometimes the language barrier is a good thing. I think most patients would be a little less than thrilled if their nurses started nervously praying before coming at their heads with a scalpel. But somehow I got 14 stitches out of this man's head and ear without any further damage occurring. Thankfully we did not need any of the other random supplies we'd been given.
Friday of that week we performed a thoracentesis. I won't go into detail, I'll just include some of my parts. First of all, this was a spectator procedure. All the nurses pulled up chairs. This took place in the triage room, so any other patients who came in also got to watch. At one point, the doctor's phone rang. Haitians always answer their phones because it costs the caller credit. So one of the nurses reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and held it up to his ear. Something else I enjoyed was how the family of this lady was able to get involved. The doctor had her husband put on gloves and empty the emesis basin of pleural fluid out the side door of the clinic a few times. However, the best part of all this was that at the same time, a few other nurses handed me a 60cc syringe of normal saline which I was to shoot into someones ear to try and get a worm out. We were eventually successful, by the way.
Since coming here, Leah and I have become parents. The guardian here has a 10 year old son who is always in our kitchen. We have successfully taught him to wash dishes using soap, and he enjoys it, which is great except when his enthusiasm causes him to take my plate before I'm done eating. He also likes to straighten things, clearly a trait he inherited from my side of the family. It's tough to "parent" in a different language, as we've had some discipline issues. Leah does all the talking and I give looks (a skill of mine I'm told). This past week we've had some food disappearance problems. One evening Licson was helping me wash dishes and Leah feigned shock over us missing a plantain. He stared at her for awhile and then took her by the hand into the next room and explained how a cat had jumped through the window (our kitchen is on the second floor) and taken our plantain off the counter. I asked him if the cat also opened our fridge and took the kashima fruit. He didn't have an answer for that. So we're still trying to figure out how to deal with that. In the meantime, I've hidden my cookies.
Sometimes I wonder what kind of relationships I'm actually forming at the clinic since we can't actually have real conversations. But I was recently invited to attend a wedding of one of the nurses next month. Yvena told me, "All the medicine people, we'll all go together." Does anyone believe that I have a dress to wear to this wedding but I don't have shoes?