Aah, another day in Haiti. Another day at the clinic. Another 7 hours of screaming children and incomprehensible language. It´s hard work here and everyday tries my patience and stamina. Thankfully, though, I do have some wonderful patients. Today, I had 15 patients (a typical day for me) and none of them had impetigo (thankfully), but half needed bandages changed and the other half were children with a high fever. That´s about all the patients I see. Also mothers who are part of the program where we track them and their child. I think I mentioned this in the previous post.

Anyway, I had helped about eight of my patients when a seminarian here, Anderson, came into the clinic (this is fairly unusual since he´s usually at the school teaching or taking classes himself). He wanted to talk with Dr. Leo, but he was in a consultation with a patient with malnutrition and I had just finished with my patient and I went with him back to the school. He said there was a girl there who was sick and I said I would check it out and see if we could do something. When we got there, she was screaming and having what I´m assuming was a seizure. It seemed more like a tantrum, since she wasn´t truly seizing, she was more writhng around and being held down by three or four women. Her eyes shut tight, her teeth clenched, her little brother said she did this regularly, although I didn´t know how long this had been going on. This episode (of what I think was epilepsy) had lasted for about an hour and a half, off and on. This is a VERY long time to be having seizures and is called status epilepticus and we have no medications and no way to help with that at the clinic. Leo recommended she get sent to the hospital as soon as possible for medication and then be sent home once she stabilized. I will ask later if she´s alright.

Another girl at the clinic I referred to Hospital Saint Damian because I think she has bilateral femoral hernias. She´s only 8 or 9 and she needs surgery to correct this. I don´t know how or if she or her family can pay for it (it may be free-of-charge, but i´m not sure), I can only hope. It´s difficult to just send people on their way. We don´t have a lot of medication here and we have to refer people to hospitals to see specialists. It can get disheartening when you see patients like that and can´t help them.

Tuesday, I gave a number to a girl who was being carried by her father, a handkerchief wrapped around her foot. When I finally saw her, I unwrapped her foot, the most awful smell wafted out and she had a gaping wound on her foot, a huge infection that had burrowed into her muscle. She was trembling, but had no temperature, although I am almost positive she was septic. We had nothing to give her, but I put a clean and fresh bandage on her and sent her to the hospital who does emergency care for children. Again, I have no way of knowing if she went or how she fared, I can only hope.

On the bright side, the last patient of the day was a little baby, 7 months old, who was having a hard time breastfeeding. He was the happiest little baby, with a gummy smile, and I was able to give his mother some vitamins and powdered milk so she would be nourished enough to feed her baby. She was very grateful, which makes me all the happier. Sometimes, all the people want are medications and, when we run out of things like Tylenol for kids or Paracetamol (both for fever and pain relief), we can only say to give the kids lots of water and milk and bathe them and let them rest. This is often the best treatment for kids, instead of medication. It´s frustrating since I can´t speak the language well yet (I´m studying every day and trying my best, but with so many abbreviations and speaking so fast, it´s very difficult) and the culture is such that they are relentless in their search. It´s getting better and I´m developing a firmer skin and a better eye for real illnesses and needs. And most days I get to work with smiling children, which makes every day so much better.