margo polo

Haiti stories

2011-01-16T16:50:00.001-08:00

I'm thinking that this blog has been a bit of a Debbie-Downer and I would like to resuscitate it into a more cheery and enjoyable thing. I hope everyone (that is, my family and the three friends who read this) appreciates this new set-up.

It's now been just over a year since the earthquake and I was hearing a bit about the status of the country on the news and on the radio, friends are returning, friends I've made remain there, friends from Haiti want to come here...I'm finding it's more and more difficult to pull away from the country I spent a good chunk of my time helping. Reminiscing about all the things I experienced there makes me pensive and a little sad that I had to leave the island. Here's a few of my stories from the island (mostly Haiti):

1. Taking a tap-tap as a form of public transportation. If you really want to feel like an outsider and have some good conversations with puzzled locals, this is the way to go. All at the low price of 5 gourdes (=roughly 20 cents). It's a cheap thrill and I love it.

2. Motos. Another form of transportation, this is just a motorcycle that is driven by a chauffer (shofe in Creole), the passenger sits behind the driver and holds onto whatever is attached to the bike. Usually I put on my sunglasses, held onto the rack on the back, clenched my fists, and tried to keep my bottom on the seat. Knowing that I was weaving through traffic at high speeds will really scare my family. But I loved this also and would again recommend this to anyone who likes skydiving, bungee jumping, roller skating backwards, climbing trees, and generally being reckless. I like skydiving.

3. Meeting people from foreign countries. There is a market called Bom Bagay near BraBat (Brazil Battalion) in Port-au-Prince, open only on Saturdays until 2pm or so. I liked to go because I knew some of the women and kids who worked there and got to sit and chat with them or occasionally I would run into some acquaintances. The Haitians working at Bom Bagay (this means "good thing", and the vendors would constantly be repeating this as a selling tool) could speak French (the bast of Haitian Creole), Spanish, English, and occasionally other languages. I met people from Brazil, Nepal, Japan, China, France, Chile, Bolivia, Colombia, Canada, India, the United States, and I'm sure there were other countries that I have not named. It was a veritable mixing pot, the likes of which have probably not been seen since Ellis Island.

3.5. On the same thread of the Bom Bagay market, I knew a little boy who worked at this market, maybe 9 or 10 years old, who spoke Creole, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Mandarin. If that doesn't blow your socks off and make you feel slightly inadequate and like an underachiever, I don't know what will. He worked at the Brazil hospital while it was functioning, as a translator and the main breadwinner of the family. Now he is looking for work as a

translator elsewhere. I'm telling you, if I had my dream (which at this moment is to either a) adopt all the Haitian children who have talents such as these, bring them here to the States to get further education in the area they're interested in, and make them into successful people; or b) get funding so I can move to Haiti, adopt all the Haitian children who have talents such as these, educate them in Haiti or send them to colleges who can educate them in the area they are interested in, and make them successful people. I know this is sort of a run-on sentence, but I don't care, I'm trying to get the point across. I want to help them out.

4. Guillot Fevil. Ah, Guillot. Our gardener. Smile and Heart personified. Every morning I was living at the clinic, I would wake up, leave my room, and Guillot would be outside, watering plants or pruning or laying out grass or hauling bags to and fro. He would always greet me with a "Ma-gooooo", not pronouncing the "r", as is typical with Haitians. It comes from the French way of pronouncing the "r" deep in the throat, sometimes making it unnoticeable. Anyway, this greeting always cheered me up and made me glad that Guillot was the gardener. I got to talking with him one day and, man-oh-man, is he smart. He was talking about American politics and education and foreign policies and religion, he just never stopped. I interviewed him in a futile attempt to write an article for my University newspaper (p.s.: Brian, if you're reading this, I still need to write it up and finish it and convince you to publish it. I've slacked on it, but I really really do want to finish it) and learned during the interview that he is the ONLY male in his family. Please understand this: the only man in his family, no father, no uncles, no grandfather, no male cousins, just a mother, multiple aunts and their female children, and a grandmother, if I remember correctly. And he lives in Cite Soleil, once voted the most dangerous city in the world. Worse than Compton (Crips and Bloods. I'm saying this like I know what they are or how awful Compton is). Worse than the projects in New York City (again, I don't know how awful it is, only what I have heard). You don't go into Cite Soleil without a bodyguard or the police or a nun. Not joking.

Okay, back to Guillot. I remember him pleading with me to look for schools for him to study at. French-speaking, since he never learned English. He loves agronomy (like agriculture, studying plants and soil and such) and he wants to study this, earn some money while in school that he can send back to his family in Haiti, then after he has his degree, return to Haiti and teach what he has learned. Reforest the country (a lofty goal, but I won't be one to say he can't do it). He is an amazing guy and I am fortunate enough to be his friend. I only hope that I can help him in his higher education, this is my goal for him.

5. How could I not have listed this first, I don't know. But it certainly is, far and above, my number one favorite thing about Haiti: my America Solidaria family. From the very first time I ever traveled to Haiti (March 8-13, 2009), I have worked with America Solidaria and their volunteers. All have been from Chile and I don't believe there are enough compliments in four languages to explain just how highly I value their friendships, their dispositions, their personalities, their ability to be a doctor in the clinic and a regular 20-something at home, to separate the despair at the clinic from the social life at home, that they can laugh with and cry with and love their patients as much as my family does when they get together on Thanksgiving (and that's a lot of laughing and crying and loving, let me tell you). They are the ones who kept me sane after I treated a boy at the clinic whose mother locked him in the house with her boyfriend, who beat him with with a extension cord...all because the boy wanted to wash his clothes every day for school. When we had to treat babies with abscesses, they stood with me and walked me through the whole thing, while still making the mothers or the patients laugh. When six of us traveled 5 hours by various forms of transportation and stumbled our way through the Haitian jungle, if you will, to sleep like sardines in a stuffy one-room house with three other people; and still smile about it in the morning! I just don't know if it's the latin culture, or maybe it's that they're volunteers, or maybe it's the Haitians that soften you up and make you realize you are truly helping them. Whatever it is, I want more of it and I want to feel that wonderful forever. If you can, volunteer in far-away lands and make friends with other volunteers. You will never regret it.

6. Haitian children. Curious. Mischievous. Genuine. Curious. Open. Playful. Adorable. Mischievous. Lovely. I know I listed a few twice, that's because thos are the characteristics that stood out the most for me. The children in Haiti just don't know how not to stare at a white person. To touch their skin or their hair. To gawk and point and, if they're babies, cry. Their parents probably have the same curiosity, "what happened to their skin? their eyes? their hair?" Televisions are not as prevalent there as they are in Westernized countries, so most Haitians in suburban settings or rural areas have not been close to a white person. There were a set of twins at the clinic who I would adopt, if they did not have a loving mother, though haggard at times. Twin boys who I treated once upon a time for skin lesions and since then, run up to me, each grab a leg, and wait for tickling and hugs and kisses and smiles. It's twice the fun and I wish I could bottle that feeling up and sell it. It would be bigger than Microsoft, by golly. And the boys, maybe 6 years old, are missing front teeth. I just don't believe they could be cuter.

There are other children in Haiti, I know that, and those boys are not the only ones who won over my heart in 0.27 seconds. There was a man who brought in his baby after the mother had left, due to health reasons, we believe. This is EXTREMELY rare for a man to stay with his kids after the mother has left. Men rarely stick around even if the mother stays with the kids. Lots of men have three and four lady friends and think nothing of it. It hurts my heart to think of it. So, back to this one out-of-this-world father, he brought in his baby girl who was underweight and sickly, and I helped sometimes in the consultations. He was so attentive and followed directions so well, each month when he came back for his appointment, his baby was getting fatter and healthier and progressing in her development just like she should be. The father was smiling more and proud of his progress as well as his daughter's development. I think she started walking a few months after she was started on the nutritional program.

I have oh-so-many stories from my year in Haiti and I will work slowly and elaborate on the adventures I had. I sincerely hope they inspire you to do the same, go play with children, build houses, and ride motorcycles.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-24T18:25:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Dia de Gracias as my Spanish-speaking friends call it. It's probably the holiday that I celebrate the most, more than Christmas, even. Every year, my family gets together a week or two before the real Thanksgiving and we celebrate it then, with all the aunts and uncles and grandparents and anybody else who wants to drop by, really. That way, when the real Thanksgiving arrives, we can all relax, eat whatever we want, go to another Thanksgiving in another location, and basically do whatever we want without the stress of Turkey Day and all the preparation and food and travel and closed shops and crazy last-second shoppers and such.

This year, for example, I am celebrating three Thanksgivings. One with my mother's family (we celebrated last Monday, I believe), one in Portland with friends (Veggie Thanksgiving, which doesn't necessarily mean Tofurkey...instead, squash lasagna, sweet potato mashed potatoes, saffron rice, homemade ice cream, pecan pies, etc.), and one on the traditional day with my father's family (the finale and one where I get to see all my relatives I have not seen for months). This is definitely my favorite holiday, even though I'm likely going to outgrow some of my clothes over the two-week-long eat-a-thon.

Hurricane Thomas

2010-11-06T09:52:00.000-07:00

(written Friday, November 5th, 2010)

I'm writing this to make sure everyone who may read this knows that we are okay, the Mattenley's are okay, nobody was hurt and nothing was damaged, except the tent cities, who most likely were waterlogged to a certain extent.

Yesterday, Thursday, the hurricane was thought to hit the island and devastate an already tired country. Switching constantly from tropical storm to class-1 hurricane, this post-season storm was acting strangely, and everyone was hunkering down, expecting the worst. I had gone to Delmas, higher up in the hills of Port-au-Prince, to visit a group from Springfield who had arrived earlier that day to see the progress from various Mercy League projects. I knew Lonnie, Emily, Lloyd, Tyler, and the family staying in Haiti, the Mattenley's, so I stayed at the house and relaxed for a few days, also waiting out the storm.

Thomas didn't hit the island yesterday, but this morning at 8am was the projection. Most of us woke up at 7, expecting to batten down the hatches for the hurricane-force winds and heavy downpour that usually comes with a hurricane. 8am came with clouds and a drizzle and as the hour wore on, the winds and rains got heavier, but nothing close to what everyone was expecting.

I decided to chance it and call a motorcycle to take me back home, since the storm seemed to have passed and without signs of it getting worse. A trip that usually takes at least 1 and possibly two hours to make (from Delmas 75 to Santo 19) only took 45 minutes. Nobody was in the road except a few wary tap-taps and some UN troops in their tanks and heavy-duty trucks. When crossing the bridge on the way to Santo 19, we saw the river. I have lived here for nearly a year, and in both rainy and dry seasons, and I have never seen this river so high. It looked to me like it was directly out of a movie, raging water carrying more of Haiti's topsoil down to the ocean.

The driver stopped so I could take some photos, and we joined the throng of bystanders in their ponchos and plastic bags covering their hair. Down on a bit of flat ground near the rough waters was a white journalist with a video camera (this being much more exciting to the Haitians than the high waters). We all agreed that he was fou, creole for “crazy” or “stupid”, and I got back on the motorcycle with the driver and we returned back to the house. Nothing else exciting happened on the trip, and I am glad to be back in the house, although it's bittersweet, as I am packing up my things to leave on Tuesday morning.

Tonight will be my going-away party, and I'm already tearing up. I don't know if or when I will return and I have many friends I will leave here, Haitians and Chileans and Colombians and Americans. I will return to my home to see my friends and family and apply for jobs in Oregon, and keep searching for international nursing jobs, as this has become my passion, my exciting life. I hope to return to Haiti someday, and soon, and hopefully not during hurricane season.

another country (or two)

2010-11-03T08:01:00.000-07:00

In six days, I will return to my home in Oregon, along with the cold, the rain, the trees, the familiarity of my home. I will take a moment to reflect on the last year plus a little and say that it has been completely splendid. I came to Haiti to work in the clinic in Santo 19 on September 11th, stayed until December 7th, then returned to my Oregon. I returned to Haiti on February 12th, a month after the January 12th earthquake and I stayed until June 23rd. During this time, I was working at the clinic again, but as the director of the physical rehabilitation center for people injured in the earthquake (I am also happy to report that it is still up and running and functioning MUCH better than I had hoped for, thanks to incredible nurses and therapists like Suzanne and Erica). June 23rd until July 27th, I was at home, trying to find work in Haiti again so I could return to the country I had grown so comfortable in. Without any luck, but with many very good friends at the clinic, I returned. August 10th, my friends left for Chile, leaving me at the house and feeling very sad and unsure about what to do next. I stayed for a few weeks after they left, until August 25th. After my month in Haiti, continuing the job search, I bought a flight to Chile to visit my friends.

This is where my next trek begins. While I was in Chile, I saw almost all of the country, from Puerto Montt in the furthest South to Tacna, in Peru, and many cities in between. I ate seafood in Puerto Montt, bought yarn to make a hat in Angelmo, watched a pig be slaughtered in La Union (something I think I was always remember with sorrow...not something a city girl is used to seeing, nor completely appreciates), saw the Tatio geysers, Moon Valley, and lagoons in the middle of the driest desert on earth in San Pedro de Atacama, visited the oldest church in Chile in Chiu Chiu, saw the Morro of Arica where the Pacific war was fought and Chile gained land from Bolivia and Peru, and in the meantime, saw all my friends and got to meet truly fascinating people. Not to mention really practicing my Spanish.

My time in Chile came to an end October 24th, when I returned to Haiti. I had left most of my things there, so as not to lug them all up and down Chile. This is where I am in my travels so far, at the house in Haiti, with new doctors and new stories. Trying to make contact with all my friends before I leave next Tuesday to return back home to Oregon for the holidays and to find a job.

I'm sure there were some wondering just how I supported myself in all these travels and what I am planning to do next. The next direction in my life has many paths to choose from and I am currently deciding between: finding a job in Oregon, validating my nursing license to work in Chile, returning to Haiti with a non-governmental organization (NGO), or working in a new country. I have sent out myriad applications and am just waiting for one to say "we want you to work in such-and-such country, what do you say?" My preference would be to do international nursing with NGOs, but the problem is that almost all positions require masters degrees and years of experience, neither of which I have. I have experience in other, less quantitative skills, but that are not as appreciated by employers, I think. Thus, my current choice to find a job in Oregon. However, just as a bit of a head's-up, if I get a job in another country, I will beheading out. This seems to be my passion and what I'm good at, and I love the idea to travel, work, enjoy other cultures, other countries, other climates, but to always return to Oregon as my home base.

This is as far as I am in my life right now. 23 years old, looking for international work, practicing my languages, learning new things all the time.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack!

2010-08-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

I wrote this in the airport on the way back to Haiti:

Current status: in Houston airport, trying to pass the time as I wait for my delayed flight. I'm anticipating my arrival into Miami at 12:30am, and I'll try to figure out a productive way to spend my time while waiting in Miami. Sleeping sounds like a splendid idea.

I believe that in every post, I apologize for not writing more frequently, and I think I will stop the apologies and the feeling guilty. For the past five weeks, I have been visiting people in Oregon. At this moment, I am traveling back to Haiti, to work in another clinic.

Being in the airport or any vehicle associated with the airport, it's difficult not to keep a stone-faced, angry-looking expression on your face, when in fact you're simply trying to take in all there is to see and experience. Being overwhelmed with the movement of people is one thing. Then there are the languages. Then there's the anxiety of getting to your assigned gate that seems always to be assigned to the other end of the airport, as a twisted sort of test, with 20 minutes alotted for running time.

Nowhere else can boast the international diversity of an airport, except maybe the vicinity of Port-au-Prince. This is mainly due to the response after the earthquake, with the UN troops and charity organizations infesting the area surrounding Port-au-Prince (smartly, they are not inhabiting Port-au-Prince proper...it is not yet safe enough to be home to strangers who don't know the country very well). I personally know a handful of UN troops, from Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Nepal, but there are also troops from Canada, France, Bolivia, Honduras, Hong Kong, Japan, India, the United States, and more whom I have forgotten but am not any less grateful for.

Continental just called for Miami passengers to prepare for boarding, and this makes only an hour delay! I am only 13 hours from arriving in Haiti! It's so close, I can practically taste it. Feeling the blazing sun (that always seems to be closer and hotter and crueler than the hottest summer days in Oregon) as soon as I step off the plane. The insatiable desire to find a pool or any for of cooling off. Becoming reaccustomed to the stares and strange but distinguishable language. I am looking forward to it.

Addendum, 29 July: I am at this moment in Haiti, at the house of the America Solidaria volunteers, getting ready to make pancakes for dinner. Breakfast for dinner is my favorite, and we also have some homemade strawberry jam that I made and some manjar (like caramel or dulce de leche) from Chile that we will use in place of syrup. I have been in search of other NGOs, applying for positions with hospitals in the area, and asking anyone I can think of in order to secure a long-term nursing position in Haiti. I spent all morning out riding around to give out resumes and talk with directors and such, and I have quite a sunburn to show for it.

When I do make a final and definite decision about what will happen in the upcoming few weeks, I will post another entry. For now, be sure that all is well, besides the heat, and it just started raining. Thank God for that.

2010-05-17T19:15:00.000-07:00

Driving through the Dominican Republic

View from my room in Barcelo Puerto Plata

Sitting by the pool

On the beach in Puerto Plata

2010-05-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

A delicate balance between my work and my personal life. Working with sisters, acting as administrator for a rehabilitation center, trying to keep up my nursing skills, and trying to see all my friends here...all this makes for an incredibly busy life here. Today is just about the only day I've had in the last month or so just to myself. It's glorious and it's been going very well so far.

There is a man working here who I have become friends with. I can't remember in previous posts if I have ever mentioned him, but he is an incredibly intelligent man and we talked for an hour and a half this morning, about his life, his hopes and dreams, and what I will be doing about it. Thanks to Brian Doyle for agreeing to help me in this aspect; I'll be writing an article about him for Mr. Doyle to distribute to whomever he sees fit. After hearing about his life, I am surprised to see him so positive, rational, and objective of his situation. When I finish the article, I will post it here.

The main objective of the article is to advertise, in a way, for his education. He received his baccalaureate last year (which is like the SATs, but covers much more and is infinitely more difficult, or so I hear), and he is looking to study agriculture. His views on Haiti, humanity, and the environment, among other topics, are enlightening and inspirational and I hope I can do him justice in my article. In a perfect world, a college professor or dean (fingers crossed) would see the article, become interested, delve further into the story, and accept him to a university. This man is impassioned and vibrant and would be a blessing to Haiti. But that's just my opinion.

In a less upbeat note, but nonetheless a cheery one, the rehabilitation center is continuing, slowly. Meetings yesterday clarified many things and we all feel we can continue with the project, as long as communication stays very open. Eventually, we plan to have 30-40 patients rotating pretty frequently, and probably stay open until October, longer if the need is there.

To continue decreasing in the happy factor, living with the sisters is getting more and more impossible. I am looking for other places to live, but still keep working with the clinic and the rehab center. I love this place and I would like to stay here for a year, or maybe two, but I cannot live with these suppressive sisters much longer, I need a social life, a place to relax, without feeling guilty about everything. And I'd like to live with some people who actually talked to me and appreciated me. Is that asking too much? I think not. Anyway, I'm working on that.

Things are looking up, I have had a few rough days the last week or two, but my few friends here have been looking out for me and keeping me encouraged, as well as my family and buddies in the states. I miss you all more than you could possibly know, and I hope things get organized around here well enough that you can all come and visit and see what it's really like here! I would love to share it with you.

multinational appreciation

2010-04-05T21:20:00.000-07:00

Punctuality is not my strong point here in Haiti, so please bear with me. Thank you for your patience.

One of my favorite things here in Haiti is meeting so many people from so many different backgrounds, from just about every country able to send troops to other countries. Besides UN troops, there are NGOs all trying to help in their own little spheres and religious groups doing the same. This past week, a group from the States came to help out at the clinic, with doctors, dentists, therapists, and jacks-of-all-trades. They stunned me with how hard they worked for the week they were at the clinic, they organized everything that had been sent from the States and distributed it to just about any reputable organization that asked.

The two therapists also did a great job with the rehab center, with suggestions and ideas with how to make it function better. Without much experience under my belt, it's difficult for me to know what sorts of things a rehab center needs, so it's been a tough job trying to anticipate and plan for problems. It's working better now, but we're collecting ideas and will probably make some big changes. Just a few days ago, a group from Handicap International came to the rehab center and were impressed with how we work, and they said they could fill up our 30 bed center in about a week, there were so many patients at different hospitals needing rehab. I think we would go a bit mad if we had that many patient so fast. Not to mention there is not enough food or personnel to look after that many people. We're making progress, in the right direction, I think, I hope.

On another topic besides work, a more amusing subject, I was able to take a few days off and go with my Chilean coworkers to Aquin, a coast town about a 5-hour trip from Croix-des-Bouquets. I left Wednesday after lunch, arrived just at sundown, and spent the next four days at the beach, in the city plaza, listening to sensational Haitian musicians, practicing my ever-improving Spanish, and relaxing. Most important was the relaxing. It's difficult to relax when you're an obvious minority (I have absolutely a greater appreciation for minorities), but just sitting on the patio at the house, reading a book, looking at the palm trees and the rain, and listening to the silence that you never really have in Port-au-Prince is so refreshing.

There was a great story that came out of this trip as well. One of the musicians who performed in Aquin on Friday and Saturday was named Beethova Obas. He is not terribly well known, although this makes me quite sad, since I know just how outstanding his music is. It's very Caribbean, calypso, relaxed music. Anyway, the chileans and I, about 8 or 9 of us in total, were on the beach in Aquin enjoying our time, and one of them was looking for a lighter or matches or something like it. A Haitian man offered his car lighter and spoke in awfully good Spanish, from what I understood. I could be mistaken, since Spanish is definitely not my strong point. He then started speaking in nearly impeccable English, with almost no accent, either. We didn't have much of a conversation, and we went back to playing at the beach and he left shortly thereafter, not before telling us he was performing in the carnaval that evening. None of us really registered this, nor did we fully acknowledge the magnitude of this statement. Later, we saw him up on stage performing with his brother, Beethova. We waved at each other and we were just as surprised to see him on stage as he seemed to be to see us in the crowd; quite possibly the only white faces in the entire crowd. Tremendous music, with a neat story to go along with it.

music and gratitude

2010-03-15T15:17:00.000-07:00

I love my family. I am currently sitting in my room near the clinic trying to get away a bit from my work today. Each day is so difficult, especially since we're going to start getting patients for the rehab center TOMORROW!!! So, in order to kind of escape, I opened my door to get some wonderful wind into my room, and put in a CD I hadn't listened to before. The day before I left for Haiti, I got to stop by my dad's house and he gave me a CD of songs he had written, from 1975 to 2010...35 years of music, that's amazing. Today was the first day I had enough common sense to know that I needed a break and I needed to hear the voice of some family member. The first song on the CD was my absolute favorite, one that my dad wrote and performed back in the Cat Stevens era. Margo's Music Box. And with the distortion from the record-to-CD transfer, it makes me imagine sitting in a field, dancing around barefoot. Completely brought me back to Oregon, something which I really needed, to get re-centered. Thank you dad.

I had a frustrating last few days, the doctors are getting worried about me and my stress level, but it will subside once patients start coming for rehabilitation and there will be more personnel to take over a lot of the work that I'm doing now. But they look out for me, they're my family here now, my protectors and saviors from time to time. If not for them, I think I would have abandoned this project and returned to the States a few weeks ago. Thank you Julio, Natalia, Paloma, and Alejandro.

Looking over the past blog posts, I noticed there were some comments I hadn't seen yet. One from my mom that was a fantastic pick-me-up. Two from my brother, who I miss terribly and that reminded me that I have the best and kookiest brother. My step-mom has also been writing to me with lots of encouraging words which have not gone unnoticed, they are appreciated and taken to heart. My dad sent me an email today with pictures form my nephew's birthday party...my stupendous brother made him a skateboard. It's true that I miss my family...I don't know if I will be able to last for the next 6 months without seeing them, but I'll do my best. For now, I appreciate all they are doing for me and for not forgetting about me. Thank you family!

And I know there are so many more people who have kept up on praying for me and sending me messages and such...Grandma and Grandpa Butler, the entire Fultz tribe, all the Butler girls and progeny, Allison, Erin, Charlie, Dan, Anali, Jojo, Dominique, Jennie, Gennie, Gracie...I love you all and I appreciate you more than you know.

Such a sappy blog post. I apologize for neglecting the tragic Haitian life, but maybe in the next entry, I will tone down the mushy stuff.

Photos from Port-au-Prince, 28 Feb 2010

2010-02-28T08:43:00.000-08:00

A building in downtown Port-au-Prince. About half the buildings in the center of town look like this.

Another building in downtown.

"Preval, tell Haitians what you are going to do with the country"

"He believes in a better tomorrow. We do too!"

Julio and I on a moto ride! They're my favorite mode of transportation, although dangerous.

A collapsed building, I believe it used to be four stories tall.

A building on the main road, minor damage.

third time's a charm

2010-02-28T08:11:00.001-08:00

It's been far too long since my last blog post, but it's not my fault, I tell you! Here at the clinic, with the new doctors trying to get settled and learning Creole, and discovering how the radiography machine functions, and working with sisters in the clinic who don't speak any other language besides Spanish, means there is very little, if any, time for me to just relax and take some time to write my thoughts down. Or type them. Whichever, it's the same thing.

In the past two weeks (wow, it's been two weeks already!!!!!), I have done about 4 or 5 radiographies, two of which were failures and I had to redo. I will be redoing one tomorrow, on a 9- or 10- year old boy who may or may not have broken his pelvis in the earthquake. He's the son of one of the women who works in the kitchen and we don't know how badly injured he was, but he was put in a full pelvic and leg cast, so he must have been in bad shape for a doctor to take such drastic measures. I took three shots today of his pelvis and leg, then as I was developing them, each one I took out was completely black. I had to refer to the on-call x-ray tech, Charlie, back in Tennessee, and find out the problem. Still, I am not sure about exactly what is causing the x-rays to fail, but I will be working on it tonight and hopefully taking some lovely x-rays tomorrow morning. I'll post some photos of my previous, and successful attempts, with a woman with tuberculosis, a boy with an unlabeled and unrecorded forearm cast (the mother didn't know anything about it; where he had gotten it, when, how long he'd had it, nothing), and another girl who goes to school on the compound and thought she broke her writs earlier that day (she had only sprained it, so just a sling and pain meds for her). I'm getting better at it, but just yesterday, the red light bulb burned out and we can't find another one to replace it. After some collaboration with Charlie, I decided to do it mostly by feel, or with the light from my phone, if needed. The biggest part of the problem is that the room is only kept dark by cardboard duct-taped over the door. There is a lot of light that can still enter, and does. Still looking for better options for that.

The new group of doctors (Natalia, a dentist; Paloma, an obstetrician; and Alejandro, a general physician) has started working this week, only working with the previous doctors (Carolina and Gonzalo) for one day. They are doing a wonderful job and I think it'll be a wonderful six months. It sounds so cheesy, mucho queso en verdad, but I really think so. The biggest problem for us is language, but they speak enough English and I can understand and speak enough Spanish that we somehow seem to slog our way through a conversation.

There are an incredible amount of donated medications at the clinic, and we are lucky enough to be able to give lots of the extras to other organizations, like Heart to Heart International. There is also the Red Cross of Colombia staying here at the compound and they are going into the community to do health care for people who can't go elsewhere. Visiting nuns from other countries are also helping around the compound, and that makes for a very international group of people living here (international, yes, but mostly unilingual...I don't know if that's really a word, but let's just pretend it is for my sake. Most people speak Spanish, that's what I mean). A group with Pharmaceuticos Sin Fronteras just left a few days ago, and they will be continuing to help with the clinic in future weeks. They helped to organize all the donations and will be continuing to do so, which will be a HUGE help for the clinic. I am really excited to see so much focus on the clinic and so much assistance for the people around here.

I can't think of much else to write about the clinic, other than it is going really well and I am really enjoying it. It's super hard work and everyone is still trying to figure out how to function, since everything has changed so drastically, but it's still going quite well. I'm excited to be here for the next 6 months. Still haven't made up my mind about one year, it's possible, but I'm only dedicating myself to the clinic for the next 6 months, then I'll make up my mind after that whether or not I want to stay for another 6 months. One thing I must do before I stay for another 6 months is go to South America and visit all my friends there. Chile and Colombia at the least. Maybe make my way up through Peru then Central America, we will see. Before I commit to anything, I have to develop my Spanish. It's severely lacking now. However, I am proud to say I had a bit of foresight and I brought a novel in Spanish (El Leon, La Bruja, y El Ropero). I think I'll start on that tonight, see just how well I do.

Alright, after reading all that boring stuff, I'll sign off. It's about 80 degrees here, I'm at the Cruz Roja Colombiana and I think they'll be starting a movie later (yesterday, it was Casino Royale in English. Excellent.), and it's about time for my dinner, so I'll be heading across the soccer field in a few moments. For everyone in the states (and, actually, around the world), enjoy the Olympics for me and email me if anything exciting happens: margogoboots@gmail.com. I'm glad I'm not being bombarded with the tele and commercials and everything, that's for sure. But living like a nun is just about as much fun as it sounds, so I think I would probably appreciate a little distraction. Thank you Brian and Scott for setting me up with movies and shows and music, it's not going unnoticed.

I'm back!!!!!

2010-02-17T09:12:00.001-08:00

(Written 12 Feb 2010)

I'm writing this after only being at the clinic for a few hours. Once we got off the plane, or luxury jet, shall we say, we were picked up by security guards the previous group of doctors had hired. We said our goodbyes to the previous team, a brief picture on the tarmac, ogling Air Force One, having just landed, then into the cars to get to the clinic. Greeted by surprised sisters (Gordon only told Father Joe, who didn't relay the info to the correct or pertinent party), we were given rooms (Liza, I have your old room, by the way), then were off to say hello to Fr. Joe. On the way, I met up with a little girl, Daniella, I had made friends with the last time. She's nine years old and likes to play with my hair and give me earring advice and we trade off practicing French and Creole, both of which she excels at. I was greeted with a kiss and a huge smile, which was the best icing on the cake that is today.

A little later, I met up with Tatan and Beatrice, two women who work in the kitchens, and was greeted with a surprised look, but hugs and kisses nonetheless. I asked after their families, everyone was alright after the quake, and they are keeping busy cooking for about 60 people each day. Actually, more on weekdays, when the clinic is open, since we feed the patients as well. It may be their only meal all day, so we want them to stay as healthy as possible.

This afternoon, there was a ceremony to celebrate the archbishop and bishop in Haiti who were killed in the quake, and to remember the Haitian people; today was the one month anniversary of the quake. After the procession to the bishops' grave site, which is here on the compound, there was a mass. Daniella clung onto me during the mass and borrowed my watch overnight, trying to figure out how to tell time with the watch upside down on her little wrist.

Charlie, a technician here who is working to get the x-ray machine in full working order, was sarcastically disappointed that there was no dancing and no party last night. We all went to bed around 9 last night, though, so we would have been the buzzkills if there had been dancing last night.

So, a recap: I'm thoroughly enjoying my first day here, excited for the next few months, hoping I can do what I have been assigned, help organize the rehabilitation clinic, and improve my Spanish (which shouldn't be hard, since I'm starting at zero. It can only get better from here).

p.s.: I'll be using Skype instead of the phone; it's a work phone and I'm trying to keep personal calls to a very minimum. Emails are also a very good way to reach me:

margogoboots@gmail.com

p.p.s.: Haiti does NOT observe daylight savings time, so we will be only two hours ahead of PST once daylight savings time begins. Don't ask me to explain it, I hardly know how it works.

one week to prepare

2010-02-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh. I got a message from Gordon on Sunday saying that there may be another spot for me on a FedEx plane that is leaving on SATURDAY! That's right, folks, Saturday, February 13th. That leaves me with all of five days now to visit my grandparents, get my butt back up to Portland, pack my bags, fly to Memphis, and be ready for the flight leaving on Saturday morning. I cannot even begin to express just how ecstatic I am about this. American Airlines keeps postponing their opening of flights from Miami to Port-au-Prince. They just have no idea of when flights will be open now, it's been postponed until further notice. I'm praying and crossing my fingers that there will be an open spot for me on that plane.

I was reading Le Bonheur blog (http://www.lebonheur.org/blogs/lebonheurresponds/?) and looking at pictures, recognized Carolina, a doctor with America Solidaria working at Klinik Sentespri, and almost started crying reading about people I've worked with. Not crying because they're hurt, they're all just fine, but just because I miss Haiti so much and I feel so useless here and, frankly, jealous that they have already made it back to Haiti and are working again. I don't know if it's because USA is such a large country and we have to go through so much bureaucracy, but things are just moving so slowly here! It's incredibly frustrating. So the blog was a much-needed lifeline back to my friends and my other life in Haiti.

The best thing, I think, about going back, is to finally see my friends and colleagues and see that they're alright. I have heard from many people that they were not hurt in the earthquake, but to see them with my own eyes will mean so, so much more to me. To hug them and know, absolutely, that they're healthy and safe will mean more to me than just about anything. Starting work at the clinic again will be refreshing, I will be put to use where I can do the most good. Speaking Creole and French again will also be a joy, improving my communication and becoming more self-sufficient is wonderful in that environment.

Basically, I am over the moon to think that I may be leaving for Haiti on Saturday. A month after the earthquake, I am finally heading back to my other family to see just what can be done to help this country. I'm finally being put to use, doing my part for a country I have come to respect and love and am proud of. I don't know of anything else that can give you this kind of high, this joy, this sense of partnership with the rest of humanity.

Gordon's in Haiti!

2010-02-02T09:30:00.000-08:00

I just received an email from Susie, Dr. Gordon's wife, yesterday, then a follow-up today:

Feb. 1, 2010:
"Gordon FINALLY got to Haiti on Saturday. He went with a group of doctors from the pediatric hospital here and they were flown down via FedEx. I've only talked with him once after he got there and he was supposed to be meeting up with a director of America Solidaria to discuss the appropriate time to get everyone back in place. We really didn't know what was going on and he wanted to sum up the situation. He specifically wanted to make sure that there were living quarters available since so many relief workers...mostly clergy...from other places are living on the compound now. So...it shouldn't be long until a plan is in place for everything to be back up and running with you there working. It sounds like they were working on the clinic yesterday to get it organized and functional. Apparently the covered waiting area outside was a disaster with all the crumbled debris from the perimeter wall. Also, the posts holding up the cover were bent and cracked and the entire roof was tilted and not safe."

Feb. 2, 2010:
" I just talked to Gordon and he did say that you would be a tremendous asset down there right not. He is thinking of the right time to have you come...just thought I'd tell you... It sounds rather unbelievable at the compound. The pediatric group from Memphis is working in the clinic along with translators from Louverture Cleary (a school that Haiti Medical Missions used to partner with and hold clinics at before they had their own building)... They have completely made the operating room functional...they have an anesthesiologist with them and all equipment and they are doing surgery...they have done 3 surgeries so far. Gordon has met with America Solidaria and two of their doctors have just arrived that have been before...more later."

I so appreciate knowing that things are going well, although slowly for me. I would like to be in Haiti right now so I could do my part and help, but I will get there soon. For now, I'm glad to know that the clinic is up and functional at the moment and that things are happening there.

It sounds like I'll be heading out soon, I'd like to be there before the end of February. Don't know how much longer I can just sit here, packing up my things, waiting to hear about my plane ticket. Fund-raising and collecting donations is keeping me occupied and right now, I'm at the beach, relaxing, looking for agates, meeting dogs. This is a much-needed break.

I'm going...just waiting for the date to be set.

2010-01-30T00:11:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well. Things seem to finally be happening! I just got home after another fund-raiser for Haiti, one last night and one tonight. Altogether, I probably collected about 75 lbs of supplies for Haiti, including clothes, medical supplies, and crayons, among other useful items. I am inspired by the support from my friends and even complete strangers. When I go back to Haiti, I know I have a marvelous group of friends here looking out for me and praying for me.

So, enough with the mushy gobbledygook, on to the stats. Still am not sure about what is going on with the clinic. Gordon is flying to Haiti tomorrow with a team of doctors and mechanics and such, and he will be assessing the situation at the clinic to see just what should be expected. If there are still problems structurally with the clinic, those will probably be addressed first, meaning a group of workers will be sent to rebuild. If, in the best of circumstances, the clinic is ship-shape, we can send doctors and nurses who have volunteered to work in Haiti. Either way, I have been told that I will be the coordinator of the second group of volunteers to the clinic.

In an ideal situation, this is what would happen with the clinic: organize with Medical Teams International and Mercy Corps and set them up on the compound, use the soccer field as consultation rooms or operating rooms if necessary, keep the flow of volunteers constant or have some semi-permanent doctors there so that we can keep the gates open to the public every day, and be a base for medical teams to send out mobile units into the community or to the more rural areas to help those who aren't able to reach the clinic. My ultimate goal is to make the clinic into more than what it is now, make it into something like a hub for other organizations to work from. There is plenty of space, beds, medical equipment (or ability to acquire said equipment), and support to make this happen. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and praying that this will come to fruition.

In the last post, I don't remember if I had updated about the situation with my friends in Haiti. I had been wondering about my friend and fellow classmate, Molly Hightower, who was living in Port-au-Prince at the time. A few days after the earthquake, her body was found in the remains of her apartment building. A man I worked with briefly during my first visit to Haiti in March of 2009 was also a casualty of the earthquake, leaving a wife and daughter. There are more whom I was not particularly close to, but I am as concerned for them as for any other friends I have there. I am not yet sure about what happened to Daniel and Nubia or Jorje and his wife. The Haitian doctors who I worked with at the clinic are still unaccounted for, and I am most concerned for Dr. Hermione, perhaps one of the most gifted and compassionate and strong women I have ever been fortunate to cross paths with. I sincerely hope Dr. Gordon can give me some good news about her, her husband, and a French journalist, Amelie, who was living with them. These are the last I am waiting to hear about, the rest are safe and physically unharmed. My friends from the Colombian UN are all doing well, emotionally drained and exhausted, but physically, none are injured. I have not heard anything about the Peruvian UN battalion, and I am taking this as good news. Nothing on the news about it, so I am assuming the battalion is still in working order.

Overall, I am in a very good state of mind. I am uneasy about not knowing the fate of my friends, but I will be in Haiti soon enough and can be my own investigator and find out just what happened to them. Once Gordon returns from Haiti, most likely he will be in the States on Feb. 6th and I hope to get the word from him on what is the next step for the clinic and a set date as to when I will be shipping out. This time, my goal is one year. I may need to return to the States for recuperation at some point, but I hope to stay and help to make the clinic function better and get medical care to more people. I'll do my best. And before I sign off, I have to put in a huge thank you to every last person who has donated money or time or supplies for this mission. Haiti needs so much aid and love and prayer and I have seen such an outpouring of this, it renews my gratitude to the human race, reminds me that we have not forgot what it's like to reach out to your fellow humans. I tried to veer away from the mushy sentiments, but I can't. At this moment, I'm proud to say I'm human.

2010-01-19T22:46:00.000-08:00

Today, I got more information on the clinic. Talking with Dr. Gordon, I learned the Chilean doctors had been evacuated and two want to come back to continue working at the clinic. Currently there are no medical personnel at the clinic and all injured people at the clinic had been taken to the hospital by the MINUSTAH troops. Sister Luz Marina, the nun at the clinic who was also working as a nurse, was taken to the Dominican Republic after having chest pains. She is being tested now for heart problems, but it's very unlikely that she will return. It sounds like there will be another sister taking her place, Sr. Patricia, who is an administrator and will be organizing the clinic very well. I have heard wonderful things about her and cannot wait to start working with her.

There is a group going to Haiti this Sunday, flying into the Port-au-Prince airport, which should be open on Thursday to commercial flights. I'll be working with Dr. Gordon to organize another group shortly after he returns on the 31st.

The clinic is still standing, some minor damage, but we're unsure of exactly how bad. Everyone's safe and no one was injured in the earthquake. A crate was sent from the states full of medical supplies and food and has made it to the compound, so they are distributing it to the Haitians.

This is all the news I have for now, and I'll update it again when I know more.

how to help

2010-01-15T15:48:00.000-08:00

Another update from the clinic: the doctors have been evacuated and the sisters and father Joe are the only ones caring for the people there. The Haitian doctors there have yet to be located, so keep them in their prayers. I am still planning on going back to Haiti, whenever Doctor Kraus can get a flight lined up. This may not be for a while, though, we just don't know.

The clinic has been damaged, one of the walls surrounding the compound has fallen down and it was ransacked by people looking for food or water. The nuns and a Swiss nurse there had to lock themselves in their rooms for the night, but they are alright now. Food is the biggest problem right now, there are only so many goats and rice on the compound. The compound has connections with various UN battalions, but they are all stretched so thin right now, it is difficult contacting them. When I go back, I hope to get in constant contact with them so we can turn to them for assistance and protection.

I am going to Haiti as soon as I get word from Dr. Kraus and I will be there for a year, probably coming back after a few months for a vacation. I am working with Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis and if you would like to give donations, send mail to:

Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis
1779 Kirby Parkway Box 319
Memphis, TN 38138

Donations are marvelous, and I am trying to collect supplies to take there. A sea crate has been filled and will be shipped to Haiti soon, but getting supplies from the port to the compound is another story altogether. So bringing stuff in my carry-on is my plan. I am turning to my family, friends, and church to help me with this, so if you can, monetary donations would be the greatest help. Things can be bought and shipped depending on what is needed, especially later on when things have somewhat calmed down.

The Haitians are an incredibly resilient people, but this tragedy will test their faith and their strength like nothing else. Please give what you can and keep communications open with family and friends; don't let Haiti fall by the wayside, keep up the support and the donations, this will take years to rectify.

earthquake in Haiti

2010-01-13T18:03:00.000-08:00

I know most of you know what's going on in Haiti, but here's a quick rundown: Yesterday, January 12th, there was a magnitude 7.0 earthquake with the epicenter just south of Port-au-Prince. There were aftershocks for the following twenty-four hours, I think they are still happening now. The clinic I just returned from was due east from Port-au-Prince and I have heard from most people I worked with. The doctors (Fernando, Pia, and Leo) are all okay, the sisters (Luz Marina, Bertha, and Rosemithe) are also okay although I heard one had a head injury or something, the UN troops (Santiago, Ancizar, Omar, Frank, etc) are also okay.

The doctors are very busy, when I last heard, and working on triage. I think the clinic is still in good condition, there seems to be no major structural damage. I talked with Santiago, a colonel with the Colombian UN and he said he was in the UN headquarters when it collapsed, but he managed to escape with only a small injury to his hand. All my friends with the Colombian UN are doing well, there were no injuries other than Santiago's.

There is one person I am waiting to hear from: Molly Hightower. I contacted her family and they are still waiting to hear from her. She was a fellow student at UP with me, we took French classes together and she was working for an organization called Friends of Orphans. Please keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

As of now, I am planning on returning on February 11th to stay for a year. I would love to have some help for the clinic, although I don't know what is needed for right now. I think a good idea would be sheets from the Goodwill or old used sheets if any of you have them. These can be used as slings or as bandages or as bedding or housing or even to make clothing. I cannot think of many other things at the moment, but in the coming days, I will think of more and will post and ask for more assistance as needed. Please keep everyone in your prayers, especially Molly and her family. Encourage friends and family to remember Haiti and donate what you can to Mercy Corps or Medical Teams International or the organization I worked with, Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis.

If you would like to contact me, my phone number is 1(541)914-3958.

2009-12-20T22:58:00.000-08:00

The kitchen at the CAFOJ (Centre d'Animation et Formation des Jeunes). Tata is one of the cooks and one of the happiest people there.

The president's palace. Yes, that's where the president lives. There are people dying because there is no clean water and this is how the president lives. I don't want to talk about it.

Joelle, a nurse from Switzerland who came to work at the clinic for two weeks. She's fantastic!

Liza, another nurse from Switzerland, originally from Memphis, so I had someone to speak English with! Hooray for her! I think everyone needs a Liza to carry around in their pockets.

One of the smiliest babies I ever met at the clinic. This is what a healthy baby looks like, it made me so incredibly happy. I want this for Haiti...fat and happy babies.

2009-12-20T22:44:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I said that I had to choose between buying a house (which was a completely unrealistic idea, by the way, but it would have been an adventure in every sense of the word, that's for sure) or going back to Haiti to continue working in the clinic. The house thing didn't work out, so that is for the best, but that leaves the Haiti option. When talking with Doc Gordon, he agreed that we needed someone to stay at the clinic for long-term and he would like me to be there. I am ecstatic about it, it is just about my dream job, I think it is a perfect place for me right now in my life. But now another obstacle, the health insurance. Will figure all that out tomorrow, the next business day. I would love to just get this figure out so I know which adventure path to take. If Haiti isn't fated for me, I will be looking for a nursing job here in Portland, or New Mexico, or Alaska, or on the East Coast, maybe. Research is required, of course, before decisions are made. But that is where my adventures have led me.

And now about my Haiti experience, a few thoughts and words: I loved it, it was the hardest thing I have ever done, I learned more in those three months than I think I ever have before, never ever will I forget the clinic, nor will I neglect to continue to be involved. Yep, I think that about covers the main ideas. There's so much more to the clinic than I can verbalize...I am still rediscovering English prose after speaking it very little or very poorly for such a long time. I would be overjoyed if I got to go back, although I don't know how I would make it one year without my friends and family. Three months were hard. I think Skype would be my best, best friend. My lifeline, if you will. But I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Not much else to write here, I'm getting re-accustomed to the States, mostly staying out of shopping malls, admiring my favorite city and all its quirks, and cleaning up my crap-ola. Who knew that I had so much superfluous stuff? That is a topic for a psychologist, not for my blog, I suspect.

which adventure do I choose?

2009-12-02T18:41:00.000-08:00

When you don't check your email for a week, it really piles up on you. And all at the same time. And when the rest of your life is just as hectic, it can become a bit overwhelming.

At the clinic, I am packing up my things, cooking Thanksgiving/birthday feast on Friday, getting ready to say goodbye to Carlos on Saturday, another goodbye party Sunday, leaving early Monday morning to head back to Memphis for a week. There is a possibility that I could come back here to the clinic as a head nurse, help to organize the clinic so there is not the threat of the doctors leaving, donations could be used better, personnel need to be managed, etc. Lots to do, I feel like I could do this with a bit of guidance and preparation. And I love the doctors who I have been working with for the past three months and I would love to come back and see them and work with them and help them and the clinic.

Then I learn that a house owned by a neighbor is up for sale, in Portland, and I could move back to Portland and find a great job and get a dog and start living a normal life. It is exactly what I wanted before I came to Haiti. Now, everything has changed and I just don't know what exactly I want anymore.

I'm trying to find a way to have both, the house in Portland and somehow help the clinic here in Haiti, but I think that is not possible. Next week, I will be talking with the director of the clinic, he lives in Memphis, and we will figure out exactly what ought to be done. Do I want to come back to Haiti, live here for probably another year, fix some of the problems in the clinic, work with the doctors and try to get a permanent nursing position here and get the clinic running optimally? Or do I want to return to my home, buy a wonderful house near wonderful people, get a job, and start living a normal life? One adventure or another?

p.s.: For those of you waiting for a really long post, I apologize. For those of you who want words of wisdom, here they are: read Basket Case by Carl Hiaasen.

p.s.s.: I will be coming back! Hooray! December 15th, my plane is coming in from Memphis to Chicago to Portland at 6:45pm! I cannot wait to see everyone! Just 13 days until I see your smiling faces!

2009-11-17T12:45:00.000-08:00

This trip just gets better and better. Last Friday, two nurses from Switzerland came here to work, one for two weeks, the other for one month. I thought it would be a good thing to have some people to work with in the clinic, but they are so much more helpful and productive than that. One is the daughter of the man who founded the clinic twelve years ago and she and I are working with the other nurse to try to make the clinic here more efficient and better equipped. Some of our ideas are to reorganize triage, establish a small laboratory here, fix the xray machine (we have one, but it's broken. in Haiti, this could truly save lives. it's very difficult for people to get a consultation at one clinic, xrays at another hospital, take them to the first clinic, all while paying for transportation, xrays, and consultations. we could avoid all that by just fixing the xray machine.), write protocols, etc. for the clinic. Almost all our ideas are the same, and when talking with sister Luz Marina, we are on the same page with her as well.

I am still waiting for a final word on whether or not I will be returning in January. I want to, since I don't feel like I am done with my work here, there is still so much that I can do and I don't want to abandon this project right now. But I am getting really homesick right now, talking with Liza reminds me of home and my family and just how much I miss them. It is Christmas time right now (not that you would know it. Right now, I think it is 85 or 90 degrees outside and blindingly sunny.) and I have always enjoyed this time of year, it is the time I most appreciate and enjoy. I am so glad I will be returning for Christmas, to spend the holidays in Oregon!

This is not the most interesting blog post, I understand that. I have talked about the clinic enough and there are not many new stories to post. I am getting more and more independent, especially since Leo and Pia are on vacation for two weeks. I can diagnose and treat impetigo, lance abscesses, clean wounds, and do consultations and write medications for hypertension. Now when I return to the states, I want to find a job that will allow me to come back here on a regular basis, maybe to continue doing this type of work...public health studies or something of the sort. One of these days, I would like to visit the general hospital; I have heard horrible stories and I would like to see for myself. Maybe on the next trip that will be possible.

Otherwise, everything is going well, nothing else to report. I will be returning to the states on December 7th, staying in Memphis until the 15th, I believe, then flying back home to Portland in the evening. I am happy to tell stories and show pictures. Just ask.

more evidence

2009-11-02T07:33:00.000-08:00

Another Haitian Sunset

The road to the clinic in Santo 19

At the beach

Carl and Carlitos, two wonderful guys, will be two wonderful priests.

Haitian situation

2009-11-02T05:49:00.000-08:00

The doctors are back! This sounds like a title for a really dumb faux-scary movie, but it´s the truth here. The doctors are back from a required two-week sabbatical and are now back to seeing patients, diagnosing illnesses, and generally being superhumans. It´s so great to have them back and not turn away patients. That was absolutely the hardest part, seeing patients with Impetigo or abscesses and having to turn them away, solely because the licensed person was not at the clinic. It breaks your heart to see people in need and not be able to do anything. To everyone´s relief, that lasted only for two weeks and now we are back to nearly working perfectly.

I feel like all I talk about is the clinic, so I will try to talk about something else now, to keep all you readers out there (I´m assuming there are readers out there?) interested. I don´t believe I have really talked about the situation here in Haiti, so I will do my best to illustrate it.

When I first came here, in March of this year, I really didn´t know much about Haiti. I knew of the situation, but I didn´t do much research into the politics, economy, government, etc. All of this is extremely fascinating, humbling, infuriating information, by the way. When I got here, I saw the people working on the sidewalks, selling mangoes or grapefruits on laid out sheets, squatting since they have no chairs. Drinking water from small plastic bags, then discarding onto the street when empty, joining the various other pieces of trash. Never did I seen a trash can or garbage truck. Kids running up to the windows begging for money, speaking a few words in Créole, French, English to appeal to as many of the passengers as possible. It´s hard to describe how contradictory Haiti is.

Haiti is a post-industrialized nation, meaning it had been industrialized, but has since collapsed, with the economy and government mostly to blame. In 1957, a president was democratically elected, then named himself president for life. While he was president, he morphed into an autocrat and a terrorist of his own people, and managed to scare away a large portion of the educated in Haiti. This caused further desolation of the Haitian people, since a majority could not read or write (even now, about 50% are illiterate). Doctors, teachers, and other highly trained professionals left in droves for kinder and safer countries, leaving Haiti without people to care for it. Papa Doc remained all-powerful until he died in 1971, then his airhead of a son becamse president and further messed up the country. In 1986, Baby Doc fled the country, like the coward without cojones that he was. The uprising of the people was enough to scare him off. This left Haiti without a government, without an economy, and with hardly any allies, thanks to the Duvalier devils.

Anyway, after that short history lessons, Haiti is now getting back on it´s feet, thanks to enormous help from the UN. The new president was elected democratically in 2006 and has been in power longer than most of the presidents here. The Haitian police are being trained by the UN as well, to make Haiti as self-sufficient as possible. Things here are slowly improving, and now the main objective is to teach the country how to manage itself. Haitians are wary of power, understandably so, of course, so suggestions have to be made carefully so relations do not become strained. The UN here are doing a fantastic job and I have had the provilege to talk to quite a few people in the UN and they seem very hopeful about Haiti´s progress, however slow it may be. Programs are being put in place to lower the rates of kidnapping, rape, murders, etc. and the Haitian police are slowly taking charge of these programs.

The streets of Port-au-Prince look the same as they did when I was here in March; I would have been incredibly surprised otherwise. Working in the clinic now, I see these people in the mornings, have consultations with them, clean wounds, sometimes give out food or milk, and pray for them. The people do not seem to be any better off, but you can see signs of progress...men driving motorcycles, taxiing people from here to there, making meager money, but any income is something here; women selling clothes; about a third of the population sells telephone cards to the rest; others set up small stands and sell soaps and medicines and napkins and a strange hodgepodge of various household supplies. There are yet other stores, proper buildings, for car parts, tailoring clothing, photocopying, and at least every five stores you see a Lesly Center, where you can get your gambling fix by buying a lotto ticket and playing the numbers from New York. Haiti seems so close to getting back on it´s feet, but it´s this last shove that is the hardest. Keep praying for this country.

photographic evidence

2009-10-31T16:12:00.000-07:00

The waterfall at Saut d´eau. It´s a welcome sight after working at the clinic in the country and sweating for 40 hours straight.

Bonny and his sister trying to get the donkey out of the mud. On the way from their house to the main road so we coulod catch a tap-tap back to Croix-des-Bouquets.
Loading up the donkey with avocados and sugar cane to sell in Croix-des-Bouquets.

The whole clan at the rural clinic: Jorge, Leo, me, Bonny´s sister and brother, Bonny in the front row, and Fernando next to him.

Leo and me doing consultations. That you see on the desk behind the patient is the pharmacy for the day. These people are so far away from any medicine or doctors, this is all they can get.

another story

2009-10-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

I don´t want to tell the whole story of what happened here last Tuesday, since I don´t know how much of this story I am permitted to recount. But I will give the basics and the occurrences after the event.

Eight days ago, during triage, we let a woman into the clinic and, while we were finishing triage, (which typically takes 45 minutes to an hour to do a brief once-over of all the children and adults) someone came outside and said one of the patients died inside. The doctors and I, of course, ran inside and found that, indeed, a woman had died. We all agree that she most likely had some serious health problems already; she was 26, but could have passed for 14, which is a major indicator of a long-standing illness. She may have had AIDS, she may have had a congenital problem, she may have had developmental delays. Whatever the problem, she died inside the walls of the clinic, without a doctor present. This is where the problems started for us.

The doctors are here with America Solidaria and this organization wanted to take this opportunity to readjust how it was operating at the clinic, so they pulled the doctors out of the clinic for the rest of the week, and so far all of this week. Last week, I also had two days off, since I find it very difficult to do my job without the doctors around. Friday, I let in patients for wound cleaning and blood pressure checks, since I can do that, for the vast majority, without the necessity of doctors or medications. This week, only one day with patients, and yesterday and today, we did inventory (which, I feel compelled to say, is probably the best thing we could have done with this obligatory ´free time´. We are finding medications that expired two, three, four years ago and I laughed when I found SteriStrips that had an expiration date of 1983. Where they came from, we can only imagine. The clinic opened in 1998, FYI). Tomorrow, if all goes as planned, the doctors will be back and can do consultations with patients again.

I don´t want this to be the only story for this post, since it seems so dreary to me. Last weekend was a welcome break, with the clinic being re-shuffled. I was invited by Carlos, one of the seminarians living here, to go to the beach with Father Edison and the rest of the students here on the compound. It is a public beach very near Port-au-Prince, only about an hour drive away (it´s probably only two or three miles, but the roads are indescribable, except to say that you never want to go more than 30 or 40 miles an hour, the potholes are sometimes hard to see. Once we got up to 65 and I felt like I was in a stowaway in a NASCAR race). It was a beautiful beach, with the expected palm trees and salty water (something which stupidly surprised me, since all oceans are salty. But in Oregon, I don´t often get wet above my knees, thus forget the taste of salty seas.), but also scrawny chickens, empty bottles floating from the beach, Bob Marley blaring from pathetic speakers, and gawking passers-by. Not many blans visit this beach, I assume. And here´s Carlos, Father Edison, and me in our swimsuits. We kind of stand out. We swim for a while, eat the rice, chicken, sandwiches, coleslaw-sort-of-thing, and King Cola, I play a very poor game of checkers with Telo, read a few pages of our chosen books, try to nap in the shade (although it´s tough, there isn´t sand, just big smooth rocks, and the sun still finds its way through the pam fronds), and generally relax and enjoy the beautiful holiday at the beach. After a few hours, we drive home, with all of us trying to sleep without bashing our heads on the ceiling or the windows when we go over the massive bumps in the road. When I get back to my room, I discover I have managed to get another sunburn (on my legs this time, not as bad as the shoulders and face like last weekend), and I take a much-needed nap.

I ended with a happy story and I am satisfied. I will write again when something else happens. Or when I manage to make fried plantains.

Always an adventure in Haiti

2009-10-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

Well, I´ll start from Friday.

Another day at the clinic, crying children, infected wounds, etc. but it was better, because I was going, after work, to the house of the doctors I work with. We were going to eat pizza (Leo-style) and relax before heading out to one of their friend´s house, out in the country. Now, when I say out in the country, I mean it in every sense of the word.

Saturday morning, we woke up with the sun (which means about 5am here), ate a meager breakfast, got all our stuff packed for hiking and a day at a rural clinic, and walked toward Route Tabarre, the main road near the doctors´ house. We waited for a tap-tap to take all six of us: me, Dr. Leo, Dr. Jorge, Dr. Fernando, Natella (a Haitian wmoan who lives with the Chilean doctors and has been the cook and tour guide for the house for the last four years...she is marvelous), and Bonny, whose house we were going to stay at and who ran the rural clinic. He is not yet a doctor, but will be starting medical school in the Dominican Repubic in January.

We waited for a tap-tap to take all six of us, which didn´t happen, but the doctors saw a friend driving his moving van down the street, he stopped, and drove us to the tap-tap depot on the other side of town. We were bombarded with tap-tap drivers who all wanted the "blans" to take their tap-tap, because they all think that they can trick us into paying more than the fair share for a tap-tap ride. We´re blan, that´s true, but we´re not stupid.

One of the tap-tap drivers took one of our bags and threw it into his tap-tap, which was already mostly full and could maybe fit all six of us into the covered bed of the pick-up. Stuffed in, we made our way up into the hills above Port-au-Prince. I don´t know how we got up those hills, with about twenty people in the back of the unkempt car, but we made it somehow. Probably just with prayers and not much gasoline. Being jostled around for two or three hours is not much fun, but with beautiful scenery, such as the mountains in a tropical country, it is easy to forget how miserable the cities are.

Stopped finally at a widening of the road, which was the start of our trek into the jungle, as it were. At the trailhead were children dragging donkeys with spindly legs, heavy-laden with bags of charcoal or sugar cane, as well as women trying to sell mangoes and coconuts from their small farms. All six of us started walking, only Bonny knowing which way to go to reach his house. If I ever complained about hiking in the States (which I know I have...), I was getting serious pay-back for it. The roads got narrower and narrower the further we got from the road, and since it is a tropical country, there is plenty of rain and more than the fair share of mud. Leo slipped crossing one of the half-dozen swollen creek beds and his shoe was then covered with the clay-mud mixture. Natella and myself were fortunate to get a piggy-back ride from one of the men from the village (God bless him), and we continued on until we finally reached Bonny´s house, maybe a two hour hike from the road. A gorgeous hike, full of friendly people who are quick to smile and children who have never before seen a white person. It´s an eerie feeling to be gawked at by children, but they are like their parents, polite and curious and all smiles.

Bonny´s house is a small shack, made of concrete walls (quite sophisticated compared with the neighboring huts) and 2x6´s bolted together and hinged for a door. Thank goodness none of us are gaining weight, we couldn´t have fit through the door. Inside was a table with a lace cloth and bread and coffee and cheese. In his neighborhood, we were eating like royalty. We rested just long enough to eat something, then headed out again for the clinic. The clinic was just about the size of a decent size living room, with benches for the patients. We were on one side of the room, separated from the patients with a bedsheet hung from one of the cross beams, and that rectangular room separated into two rooms by another sheet. This made two exam rooms that were private enough for the patients to feel comfortable. (As a sidenote, most Haitians are not the least bit modest...they aren´t rich enough to be. When you hardly have enough money to buy materials to build a shack, let alone a place to go to the bathroom, and you have to pee in the same place as all your neighbors and bathe in the same stream as the rest of the village, you come to be very comfortable with the human body. Comfortable or indifferent.) I worked with Leo in one room and Jorge and Fernando worked in the next room. We saw patients with the flu, parasites, back pain (probably from osteoporosis or herniated discs or other preventable illnesses), consultations for birth control, and one man who I will never forget who came to see us because he had high blood pressure. I noticed he had a bulge in his mouth, like he had chew stuffed into the pocket of his gums. But he obviously did not have access to that sort of thing, so I asked him what it was, He opened his mouth and a tumor the size of his tongue engulfed the rest of his mouth. Leo told him he had to go to the hospital right away, since it may be a benign tumor or it may be cancer, we didn´t know. He seemed more concerned with the blood pressure, maybe because that was more uncomfortable than the golfball in his mouth, and he knew what would happen at the hospital...he would have to pay to get there, pay to see a doctor, pay for x-rays, pay for lab tests, and pay to come back home, without ever receiving treatment.

This is the most infuriating thing for me to see. People who have treatble diseases whose only obstacle is payment. Their lives could be saved if they could get to a hospital who would do x-rays, sonograms, consultations, diagnoses, and treatments for free. It seems like a lot, and it is, but that is for a major case. At the clinic, jsut today I saw a man who sliced open the bottom of his foot as well as the top of his big toe. It had swollen to about twice it´s normal size. He said it had been like this since September 7th, and he went to the hospital and got x-rays and medications, but he couldn´t go again because it cost too much. I don´t know if he had an infection or if he had broken any bones, and since the doctors aren´t at the clinic today, I can do very little. I can clean and bandage and say "come back on Monday to talk with a doctor". Most likely, he will have this wound on his foot for a very long time. It´s incredible the lack of medical treatment here.

But I digress. I was talking about the clinic... At around 2pm, we finished our work at the clinic. Went back to Bonny´s house, changed into our swmsuits, and took a very short walk to a stream where we swam and cooled off and enjoyed cleaning ourselves in the not-so-clean-but-oh-so-delightful water. Went back to the house for dinner and to listen to the small radio to the Colombia v. Chile soccer game. I could not understand anyof it, but by Jorge and Fernando´s reaction, I knew Chile was winning. I think the neighbors probably thought they were crazy (which they are, when it comes to Chile being in the world cup playoffs). Then to sleep on the concrete floor, all five of us side by side in a room maybe 8´wide and 10´long. Very cozy. And a bucket in the corner for a bathroom during the night.

The next morning, we headed out very early because Fernando had a fever all night and the next morning and he felt horrible. We hiked all the way back to the road, with less mud than the previous day, although we had a donkey carrying some coconuts and mangoes that Bonny´s sister was going to sell in Croix-des-Bouquets. That donkey almost didn´t make it all the way to the road, he got stuck in the mud up to his belly at one crossing, and had to be unpacked and pulled and pushed by Bonny and three assistants. Got to the road, took a moto to Sodo to play in the waterfall. On the way there, I managed to forget Leo´s advice about being careful about the exhaust pipe and I got second degree burn on my calf. Also, being stupid, I forgot to put on sunscreen and I got plenty burned, mostly on my forehead and shoulders. I look silly with a sunglasses tanline.

Enjoyed the waterfall, Fernando slpt and still felt terrible, so we took the motos to a nearby town to transfer to a tap-tap for 10 goudes (roughly 25 cents US). Then we began a new adventure. The tap-tap carried us about a mile up the winding road, the stopped because it had no water left in the engine. They can´t use radiator fluid, it´s to scarce, so they use water instead. When they opened the gasket, boiling water cam shooting in through the grate separating the cab from the bed of the moving truck. Nobody was hurt, just surprised and furious at the driver. And Fernando was trying to sleep and did not appreciate it as a wake-up call. This happened twice more as we were trying to get back to Croix-des-Bouquets, as well as a flat tire. So, three hours and 50 goudes later (they raised the price to pay for all the repairs the tap-tap needed), we were in Croix-des-Bouquets. Took another moto back to the doctor´s home, slept very well, although painfully due to the sunburn, and welt to work the next morning.

The week that followed will be in the next post, since I have already written a lot for this update. The next one will be just as interesting, I hope.

2009-09-30T15:21:00.000-07:00

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.

Haiti, part 2

2009-09-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

I said I was going to dedicate this post to the Creole food of Haiti, but after today at the clinic, I have to use this post to just vent for a bit. If you don't want to hear my rantings and complainings, skip this post.

Another warning, I mention a minor surgery during this post, so if you get queasy easily, you may want to skip that part.

Today started off as any other day at the clinic, I got there a little early, 7:30, and waited for Leo and Jorge to get there so we could go get started on triage. When we were all ready, we headed across the small lawn separating the clinic from the outer road. There were probably 300 people waiting outside and they formed two lines, one for "ti moun", children, and one for "gran moun", adults. Shortly after they were organized into lines and we starting triaging people, a fight broke out at the beginning of the lines, whic merge at the one entrance onto and away from the road. I don't know what exactly happened, but there were bags being flung at others and yelling and shoving, none of which helps the mob of people waiting their turn to see the doctors. Jorge got in the middle of it (Jorge is probably 6'4" or so and not a slight man, by any means. He's a great doctor, but he was almost scary when he tried to break up this right) and he managed to break it up, but we werew all pretty shaken up by it...I almost expected weapons to be drawn.

Back to the patients; we each have our own numbers we hand out to people, they are pieces of wood that have been painted a color (green, black, red, or yellow) and have a number on it. I have fifteen numbers, since that's usually sufficient, but today, I wrote an extra 18 numbers, so I had a total of 33 patients to see.

Triage starts like this: I start in the middle of a line and work backward and Jorge or Leo starts at the beginning and, if things go as planned, which they never, EVER do, we end at the same time. After I had seen about two children, people started to mob around me and shove their children at me and just yelled the kids' symptoms at me. People are grabbing you, wanting you to see their baby next. It's heart-breaking and absolutely infuriating at the same time, I couldn't decide if I felt like crying or screaming or just leaving them all out there.I tried to tell them to get back into line, but my Creole is so limited and they were so afraid they wouldn't be seen that they just continued with their mob.

It took about 30 minutes total, thankfully without another outburst, to finish the triage. By that time, Leo, Jorge, and I are ready to be done for the day. Emotionally drained and physically disgusting, Jorge and Leo take showers before seeing patients, but I had 33 to see and I got started right away.

In order to see patients at the clinic, you have everyone wait in a common room, outside, but covered and with plenty of seating. I go out to call my first numbers and nobody comes forward, so I think those people have left. I just allow the next person with my color of card to come see me and I get started with the day. I saw a man with a huge wound on his foot, he said he had had it for about 2 weeks, it was severely infected, and I got to wash it and bandage it (for all this griping, I will say I am getting MUCH better with wounds. They don't gross me out nearly as much as they did before coming here. And it's only been 7 days at the clinic) and he also spoke some French, which I am much more comfortable with and I also got some Creole words figured out with his help. I saw some babies which I examined for their 1 month checkup (at the clinic, we are keeping a record of some mothers who come to see us during their pregnancy and we follow them throughout their pregnancy and follow their baby for 1 month, checking in on them at 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, and 1 year). I also saw a little boy who has been to the clinic twice before due to a severe burn on the back of his hand (it's healing, but it's slow and it's still incredibly raw). The majority of the patients I see, however, are just babies who their mothers say have "mal a tet" or "mal o vent" or "pa manje". They all say their children have the flu, and indeed, we think the swine flu has hit Haiti pretty hard, but we just don't have the resources for giving medicine to everyone. If we gave medicine to each child who is reported to have the flu, we would be out of medicine in maybe two weeks.

(Just as a side note, if you are able to talk with your doctor or a hospital about providing medical supplies to this clinic, let me know and trust me, the medicines will be used well and will benefit many).

It was not all in all a terrible day, I did get to learn some more Creole and I also had some students follow me today, which is interesting. Although the group from today was not as well behaved as lasst weeks group. They didn't really help, they mostly sat around or meandered in the halls and just took up space. Maybe it's just because this is their first day. I guess we'll see. They did get to see a pretty interesting minor surgery, though, one which I will not soon forget.

Leo works across the room from me and he needed my help to lance an abscess on a baby's head, so I agreed to help. We help each other as much as is humanly possible, since we are all fresh out of school and figuring things out as we go. To lance an abscess, you usually numb it with some lidocaine or something, they you can make the incision. But lidocaine is used very sparingly, so we don't use it unless absolutely necessary. Leo made the incision and pus came out, which is absolutely normal. But the students were watching and I think some of them were ready to pass out. You have to also squeeze and flush out the abscess to make sure it is clean and there is no more infection left and the incision can heal correctly. (Warning: this may get graphic) Leo had to squeeze the abscess, the baby was screaming and wiggling all around, and the abscess must have popped or something and pus and blood flew onto the wall behind the baby's head. The students did not stay long after that. I don't blame them. But the abscess is gone and the baby is healling now.

The rest of the day, I gave out dried milk for babies who seemed under-fed or to mothers who had trouble breastfeeding because they didn't have enough nutrition for themselves and the baby. I also gave out Tylenol, Jr. almost like it was candy, which we also give out sparingly. I listened to so many hearts, lungs, and abdomens, I am hearing them in almost any quiet moment. It was an emotional day and a very, very long day (I was working from 7:30 to 3:15, with a 15 minute break for lunch. Not a typical day, either, since we usually only work from 7:30 to 1).

I promise to dedicate the next post to food, it will be a welcome change to this medically-themed entry. I hope tomorrow won't be so crazy.

Haiti, Part 1

2009-09-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

I decided to separate my posts about Haiti into a few different postings. There is altogether too much to include in just one post. In this post, I will be addressing the clinic.

The clinic is made up of 6 exam rooms and a pharmacy, plus a few rooms for storage of books and a few charts and things like that. I am actually working in my own room (it's not a room, really, just part of a larger room separated by the others by curtains which I don't always close) and I have a lot of autonomy when it comes to treating the patients. The doctors from Chile are wonderful and they speak very good English. The two practitioners are Jorge and Leonardo and the dentist is Pia. In the mornings, Jorge and Leo and I do triage for the 200 or so people who show up outside the doors to this compound. Both doctors have about 40 numbers they hand out to the most needy patients and I work with them to help treat problems that come up. I also work alongside a nun, one of whom is a nurse, and we see our own patients, mostly children with the flu or who are dehydrated or malnourished.

Some of the patients I saw: a young boy with partial-thickness burns over the entire back of his left hand, a woman with an asthma attack, helping Dr. Leo lance an abscess above a boy's eye, an infected wound on a girl's forehead. Not a lot of really serious cases, but there are so many people who cannot come to the doctor right away, they may live hours away (one woman traveled four hours to this clinic by tap tap - a sort of taxi/city bus - just to get her blood pressure taken). We are lucky at the clinic to be so close to the UN troops, they are stationed in Croix-des-Bouquets so they can remain close to the airport. They recently donated 7 tons of dry milk to the clinic and we are giving it away to children who are malnourished or have diarrhea.

I did triage this morning, only my second day at the clinic, and it was absolutely mad. The doctors asked everyone to line up according to their needs, one line for children and one line for adults. We then just went down the line to see what was the matter with each person. I need badly to learn Creole and I will be working on it and Spanish while I am here. I am so glad I can speak French, though, because it makes it easier for me to understand Creole. Anyway, triage lasts about 30 minutes, 7:30-8am, then the doctors start calling numbers. During triage, Sister LuzMarina also gives out numbers for nursing care, mostly for the kids and sometimes for adults who need their blood pressure taken.

The entire day at the clinic only lasts from 7:30a to 1:00p or so and then the afternoon is free for us to do what we like. That means there's about 6 hours of free time until dinner. I'm trying to figure out what to do with all that time and I'm usually reading or taking a nap. I am also thoroughly enjoying the meals here, so I'll probably dedicate the next post to the food. I have a lot to say about it.

My thoughts are a little scattered and not very linear, but that's because I'm a little exhausted and the heat is curdling my brains. Can't always think in a linear way. Will post more soon, hopefully with pictures!

I'm leaving on a jet plane

2009-09-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

Well, this is it. In two days, I'll be on a plane destined for Denver, then to Memphis. It's quite surreal that I'll be spending three months (or 12 weeks, as I like to see it) in a bloody hot country helping people with God-only-knows what illness, far, far away from anyone I know. That spells f-u-n for me. No, I really do think it'll be a fabulous opportunity and a chance for growth and learning, but it just seems so crazy for me to be doing this. Still hasn't hit me yet, I haven't had any breakdowns or crying fits (which I would usually have before such a trip). I'll bet once I get on the plane, surrounded by complete strangers in an enclosed space, I'll collapse into a puddle. Knowing my luck, this is the most probable outcome.

Trying to keep a record of what's going on and what I'm bringing (which, by the way, is WAY too much). Bringing: scrubs, skirts, jeans, a flannel shirt (it does get relatively chilly at night...into the mid-70's, even high 60's), a fleece blanket, a small inflatable mattress (like one for camping, very thin, packable, but in case I'm sleeping on a concrete slab with a wimpy foam mattress, I won't be miserable for three months), a webcam for skype (will get that working shortly), iPod and speakers, batteries, recharger, books (will list titles later...haven't yet decided), knitting projects (again, will list once they are decided), sandals, slip-on shoes, tennis shoes, cell phone and charger (in case of an emercency), and a ton of medicine (for malaria, intestinal upset, flare-ups, and a few others...odd to be carrying all that).

Books I'm paring down to bring:
The BFG, Roald Dahl
The Witches, Roald Dahl
Mountains Beyond Mountains, Tracy Kidder
Krik Krak, Edwidge Danticat
Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
Le Petit Nicolas, Sempe-Goscinny
L'Elegance du Herisson, Muriel Barbery

So, as you can see, I have to choose between all these...not an easy task. Now, knitting patterns:

Ene's Scarf with a nubby cotton fingering-weight yarn
Flower Basket Shawl with silk/wool blend lace-weight yarn
Hip in Hemp with Hempathy in a stunning red
Lacy Baktus scarf with Cascade Heritage sock yarn
bolero with Linares (I'll be making up that pattern based on Ash from Rowan 36)

So much to bring. I don't know if I'll have enough time to do all this, but I'd rather have too much and not finish it all than finish it all and be bored after two weeks. AND, who knows, I may be there for six months and then I'd be S.O.L. as far as keeping myself busy. (In all truth, I think I'll be plenty busy with working 7a-4p six days a week. We'll just see...)

I'll keep up the posting as things happen. 2 days now and I'll be posting soon after I get to the clinic.

heat and work

2009-07-28T23:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't know this sort of heat existed. 106 was the high temperature today, one degree shy of the all-time record for Portland. Not cool (no pun intended...okay, so maybe it was). And more hundreds for the rest of the week, too. At least I know that if I survive this, then I may survive Haiti weather.

I have been applying to jobs around Portland and Eugene and even some on the coast and in Eastern Oregon, but I think all the jobs for new grads are completely dried up, just like this desert of a summer we're having. So, after being rejected from everywhere I've applied and getting no good information from nurse recruiters, I decided to go to Haiti for a few months instead of sitting on my sweltering tooshie for the rest of the summer, throwing pathetic pity parties, and not getting a job. Granted it will be hotter than Hades over there, not to mention the hurricanes/tropical storms sure to hit as soon as I leave (Murphy's law, dontcha know). Anyway, I think this will be the best idea for me, to get some amazing experience, live with a whole new group of people (I think most will be Chilean, the rest Haitian, with the occasional American wandering through), and work and serve some of the most amazing people I've ever met. Currently, I'm working on learning Haitian Creole and Spanish (what was I thinking? I don't know. I rarely do.)

Other than Haiti and stubborn job markets, nothing new with me. Tomorrow, I think I'll spend the day trying to beat the heat by being a recluse in my basement, knitting, and making something for a friend's coming-home party, back from the "even-hotter-than-Portland" country of Mexico. Now off to bed to re-energize for tomorrows good times.

Margo, RN, BSN

2009-07-04T00:04:00.000-07:00

Well, I graduated. And I'm licensed. Can I get a high five? Anyone? Anyone? Now to find a job. I've had my license for about 2.5 weeks so far and I've applied to about 10 positions and no bites yet. I've also found out about an opportunity to go to Haiti to work in a hospital for six months to a year (which would be absolutely fantastic!). So I'm figuring out my priorities about where I want to go: Haiti for six months (away from friends and family), move back home to Springfield (I'd REALLY rather not. Too easy to fall back into old habits. But tons of friends back there), or stay in Portland and keep on the quest for a job (this is plan A. Praying it will work out!).

In the mean time, I'm enjoying my summer, working at the Naked Sheep Knit Shop (love it! spend hours around yarn!), and visiting friends back home in Springfield I haven't seen in a long time. And trying to get back into reading my Bible and reconnecting with a God I've put on pause for the past few years. Lots still to think about and far too much to write about at this moment. Midnight is not really the best time to talk about deep and meaningful things, since I'd probably read this in a few weeks and wonder what in the world I was thinking posting at this hour. Now that I'm essentially unemployed, I'll be keeping up with this blog a bit better (at least, I'll do my best. Give it the old Girl Scout try. Girl Scout until the end, it seems...)

last semester

2009-01-09T23:00:00.000-08:00

I am so incredibly bad at keeping up with this. I had a whole month off school, so I really have no excuse.

Starting school on Monday. Taking classes with titles like "Leadership" and "Personal Prep for Licensure". I can already feel myself getting drowsy. I am, however, starting clinicals back up and am continuing with my French minor. Graduating in four, yes FOUR, months! And after that... watch out.

After graduation, I'm going to Europe with two wonderful friends from nursing classes, Erin and Allison. I'm sure I'll be writing all about it and include delicious pictures. We'll be going in mid- to late-May and staying for a few weeks in France, then Ireland, then a stop by to England, Scotland, and anywhere else we want to go. I can hardly wait!

But before all that, I'm going to Haiti for a week, March 5-15, to go to a boarding school, teach a class on health, do eye exams for the kids, and do whatever else we feel we need to do. Just got my vaccinations today. Painful. Both for my arms and my wallet.

Now, on to knitting. Another subject at which my wallet winces. I started and finished a hat yesterday, from Modular Knits, the Flat-Top Hat, using Wisdom Yarns Poems. It is lovely and keeps my head very warm. I had to change the pattern in the book, since it was not written correctly. Minor changes, though.

Projects still on needles: Threepenny Pullover, in Elsbeth Lavold's Silky Wool (it's divine, but laborious to knit up. Have to refer to the pattern for each row. doesn't work well with watching a movie and knitting. oh well.); 1824 Blouson, from IK Summer 2007, in an unknown wool/cotton blend, but that will be ripped out and made into something else altogether at a later date; and Brambler scarf in a linen/cotton yarn (i'm too lazy to search for the label at the bottom of my yarn stash.) I think this is the fewest projects I have EVER had on needles at one point. Gasp!

Over the last month (i had four weeks off for school. mwa ha ha ha!), I made about four hats out of worsted weight yarn, a scarf for my brother, and i think three scarves for my mom. All were greatly appreciated and I am currently trying to resuscitate a project for my step-mom that I began as one thing, which were ghastly and thirteen sizes too large. Now, they are closer to her size, but I'm having to make up the pattern. Simple enough, just St st, but tough with the number of sts and the gauge. If anyone reading this is a knitter, you know what I mean. But seeing as how I think I'm the only one who reads this, I can say whatever I want and be completely comprehended. Yay me!

All for now. Ten-four, Gold Leader.

my idea of heaven.

2008-11-07T23:46:00.000-08:00

I am now officially getting my French minor. Reading French literature is difficult, especially when written in the Middle Ages (ou les Moyen Ages, pour les parlants de francais). Who knows what I was thinking. It still doesn't make sense to me, but I'm going for the minor, so I've just got to make it work.

Less than six months left of nursing school! Graduation day: May 3. Pinning ceremony: May 2. And after school, passing the NCLEX (the boards to pass in order to be a registered nurse). Then, going on an actual vacation, at least this is the plan: going to France for 3-4 weeks in May/June to get better at my conversation skills, celebrate being done with nursing school, have a break from life, etc. Basically have a break from everything before starting into the workforce. Blech. Hate that word. Before starting my life as a true adult. Not this semi-adult phase in college. This is not enjoyable. But being out in the world as a nurse, healing people, loving people, making their lives better...that is my idea of heaven.

Latest news: I am going to Haiti: March 5-15, 2009. I have agreed to it, but have no idea how I'll raise the money, what I'll have to do (health-wise) in order to get there, what I'll be allowed to do once I get there (just work in the clinic, or help rebuild houses?), etc. The group I'm planning on going with is Haiti Foundation of Hope. What is really terrible is that Haiti was hit incredibly hard by the latest hurricanes and, being the poorest country in the western hemisphere, is finding it near impossible to rebuild the country. And just today, I heard on the news that a school collapsed in Port-au-Prince, killing 30 of the children in the building. This was due to the poor rebuilding of the school after previous hurricanes. This sort of thing can be prevented, with some generosity from others. Eventually, I would like to organize a group of contractors and architects (or the necessary brainpower for this sort of project), and hire builders in Haiti to help rebuild the schools - work for the Haitians and a safe school. How wonderful would that be? Now that would be heaven.

What else? ah, yes, knitting. I've got so many projects on the needles, I'm tripping over them on the floor. Scarves, hats, sweaters... *sigh* And the worst part is that I'm dreaming up more patterns and I don't have the time or the yarn selection to complete them all! Aaaaargh! This Christmas (yes, I said it. Christmas. Brace yourselves.), I'm knitting all my presents since my bank funds are severely depleted. Mostly due to my need, no, my deepest desire for yarn. The stash of yarn is procreating, now migrating into backpacks, shoes, laundry room, so knitting them up is the only humane way to get rid of them. I can't bear to give them away. And the best ending to this story is that I'm applying for a job at a yarn store tomorrow. Yarn at work, yarn in my free time, and occasionally yarn when I'm studying. If that's not as close to heaven as possible.... Alright, now I'm of in la-la land, dreaming of a land of yarn and needles... Now that would be my heaven.

what was I thinking?

2008-09-04T15:54:00.000-07:00

I just agreed to take another class to work toward my minor in French. This poses a problem since I will be taking 16 credits with this class. I'm going through this with another student and she and I share similar feelings about all this, but we're trying our best to graduate in May WITH a French minor. This makes our workload next semester less, though, so we're going to do our best this semester. I would appreciate prayer for stamina and strength for this semester while I attempt the nursing school equivalent of climbing Everest.

pictures

2008-08-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

Matisyahu, Concert in the Zoo, Portland.

Kyler, scared as the T-Rex roars 10 feet from him, and Bion.

knitting and reggae

2008-08-29T12:14:00.000-07:00

I am officially DONE with my junior year! And have started senior year with three nursing classes and ceramics. Just for a change of pace. And any excuse to get messy is alright in my book. So, now there are only 2 semesters left. That's right. In eight short months, I will be a graduate. Soon thereafter, I will pass the NCLEX (the nursing equivalent of the boards) and then, officially, will be a nurse. Saving lives one bedpan at a time. We really do more than that. Really.

Now that this semester is done, I've got time off before fall semester starts on Aug. 25th. I spent a week at home and came back to Portland with Gracie, one of my favorite people. We had a great weekend that consisted of a Matisyahu concert (a reggae artist who happens to be Jewish), the Saturday Market, and shopping. And while on this escapade, we passed a yarn store. Close Knit on NE Alberta. And that, my friends, is a dangerous store. A swirling vortex, you might say. I get lost in the walls full of yarn, dressers full of needles, bookshelves of knitting patterns. And in this vortex, I bought two balls of yarn. There is a happy ending though (meaning that usually I buy yarns because they're pretty and I have grand plans for these balls, but their fate is often to lie at the bottom of my box of yarn. Forgotten. I apologize to them, any of whom I have offended or hurt.). The happy ending for the Taos yarn is a pair of fingerless gloves I saw at Close Knit and modified to suit this yarn. I started them Aug. 7 and finished them the next day! And the Rowan Felted Tweed will be made into a hat. Eventually. After I finish the other UFO’s (unfinished objects), one sweater and a blanket.

As far as finished patterns go, I have made humongous, mind-blowing progress on multiple items: Marika with Silky Wool, Taos fingerless mittens (pattern will be posted soon), Guinan hat with Brown Sheep Top of the Lamb, a crocheted Totoro for neighbor Maggie, 14 months old, and finally a basic hat formulated with Ann Budd’s Handy Book of Patterns. I simply cannot begin to say how thrilled I am that I spent my month off knitting and knitting and knitting. All the while watching smut on TV and innumerable movies. Since I have finished these lovely objects, I of course have to start on some other patterns and I have them all lined up:

Urchin hat by Ysolde Teague, will be made with Himalayas Queensland Collection yarn in color 11, Bubble Pullover by Norah Gaughan in Knitting Nature

As for the lack of posts in the last month, my only excuse is that I was lazy. And a procrastinator. And busy with knitting. Can you tell where my priorities are?

Another update on my step-sister: she had surgery July 29 and was in the hospital for a week and a half for an infection. She was sent home (without antibiotics. if anyone can explain this, please do), got another infection, came to Portland again for a few more days, then went back home. She is doing well, per the last report. Her husband and son have been with her through it all, but my stepmom and I thought they needed a break and managed to steal them away for a few hours to go to the zoo. Since my nephew is only 2 1/2, he wanted to go to the dinosaur exhibit and see the T-Rex. We went and saw the T-Rex (life-size, of course. And robotic. And completely real to a 2 1/2 year old) and it made for a great photo op. I am trying to figure out the layout of these posts, so I will post another entry with all these pictures, knitting FO’s, Matisyahu, and Kyler and Bion (nephew and stepbrother).

jumping

2008-06-30T22:38:00.000-07:00

The obligatory updates: Today was the last day of classes for this semester. Finally! Evidence-Based nursing: no problem. Advanced Medical Surgical nursing: probably bombed that one. But no matter. It is finished.

Update on the chickadees: we did see the family later on the next day, with the parents flitting in and out of the house. At one point, we think we saw the chicks learning how to fly. So, they've flown the coop and are now finding bugs on their own, building their own nests, and hopefully we'll have another family next spring.

And now for the real news: The first day of spring was a solstice to remember. Some neighbors invited me to go skydiving - yes, jumping from a perfectly good airplane. I, in a moment of 'what-the-heck-why-not' feeling, agreed. We head out early to get to Mollala and to Skydive Oregon early that day. Driving for an hour meant we resorted to talking about our impending loss of bladder control when faced with jumping out of a plane. This did not, in fact, happen. After mounds of paperwork (including clauses about personal responsibility for any consequences stating that everything has been done to ensure the chute opens, look this contract over with an attorney, have all your affairs in order in case something should happen, et cetera), we finally go to a brief class talking about what to do should there be an emergency in the plane and other information, but who remembers anything after there is a mention of an emergency? My group and I suit up and put on hats that would leave the Coneheads feeling inadequate.

We board the plane. Now, the adrenaline kicks in. We take off and climb up toward the clouds (it happened to be cloudy that day, but it was better with clouds), up to 12,000 feet. That's really high. That's Mt. Hood high. Imagine jumping straight down off the top of Mount Hood. That's what skydiving is like. Luckily, I'm strapped onto my instructor and he is the one in charge of actually throwing us out of the plane (I prefer 'throwing', since that's what it felt like. At that point, he had to make sure we made it out of the plane). At first, the air is blasting down your windpipe at breakneck speeds: nearing 130 mph. And the mist from the clouds stings your cheeks. About 10 seconds later, the air in not as thin, not as cold, and the mist fades into the most spectacular view I have ever beheld. It must be the same view God gets and I'm there, front-row.

I think we were free-falling for about 30 seconds, but it could have been a full minute. Anyway, it seemed like a long time to be falling toward a solid entity. My instructor opened the chute and we glided up into more of a sitting position. At that point, the view was even better, easier to see everything, slower (only 40 mph now), and quieter. I think we floated for about two or three minutes, the most beautiful, most hopeful view of Oregon. I could see Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens, and I think Mt. Jefferson. The only word I can think of to describe this view is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. If you ever have the chance to go skydiving, do it. I am planning on getting certified and being an instructor. I'll think more about that after I've graduated and have a steady job. Wouldn't that be a great summer job? Nurse for three seasons, then a Jumper for summer. Heck yes.

chickadee

2008-06-06T21:20:00.000-07:00

Damn cats. They have to ruin everything. And they like birds too much.

My aunt has birdhouses in the backyard, used just for decoration. Then we learned there was a family of chickadees living in one. Lots of chirping from both parents and babies. Just lovely. Then this evening, one of our dogs ran to the back door (usually a sign he has to go potty). We let him out and he chased a cat out of our yard. This horrid cat had knocked over the birdhouse and we heard no chirping from the babies, just a lot of yells from one of the parents. We put the birdhouse back up, brought the dog inside (kudos to you, Jock), and sat and listened for the parent to fly back into the house. No such luck. And no sounds from the babies. I went out a little later and heard something inside the house, but couldn't see it. Probably a baby getting hungry and trying to fly.

Okay, this is getting too sad. That's where I'm at right now. But, as my mom gently reminds me, "it's nature at work." So, we just hope you come back next year, chickadees, to raise a fresh batch of babies.

update

2008-05-16T21:46:00.001-07:00

Here's an update on the next-door-ers:
All dogs have been found, all intact and doing quite well. No word on the dogs. They were (or still are) indoor cats and may have just ran away and are now trying to fend for themselves. The dogs are all doing fine, but one of them has made multiple trips to the vet. Probably due to breathing smoke or just being completely freaked out by the fire. Either way, they're still alive.

The home owner has very good insurance and the future looks promising in rebuilding the home. The fire seems to be have been mostly in the walls. Both she and her son are in remarkably high spirits and I am absolutely impressed by how they are handling this. Everything in their front lawn is being sifted through (charred, salvageable, not-worth-saving) and the last I saw, the family was having a party and were cracking jokes about the fire. I hope that I can act this way if something like this happens to me.

Today, I got a bike for my 21st birthday. Very nice. And the temperature was in the lower 90's, so needless to say, I didn't do much riding, sadly.

I am working on making another dress. Last week, I made a dress from an old pattern from the 80's. So awesome. And the fabric came from a bed sheet. The BEST use of old sheets. Lots of yardage for a few bucks. No store has those kinds of sales.

fire

2008-05-15T03:15:00.000-07:00

This morning at 1:00, my family and I were woken up by our next-door neighbors house on fire. A mother, son, 3 dogs, and 2 cats were all presumed to be inside. We found out that the people were our of town, but the animals were still inside to our knowledge. While waiting on the sidewalk, one of the dogs got out and she was taken to a friend's house. We still don't know the status on the other two dogs and the cats, so please pray. It doesn't look good for them. It's been two hours and no sign of them. They could have gotten out and run away, since there was a dog door, so for now, I'm choosing to believe that.

blech

2008-05-13T16:46:00.000-07:00

Being in nursing school, one begins to appreciate the little things. This type of rigorous curriculum makes it difficult to do anything except go to classes and study. However, since I am not able to study for hours without a clear end in sight, I have my minor outlet: knitting.
I have mentioned this before and I swear that it is the only thing that has kept me from being admitted to the mental health ward.
In previous posts, I have mentioned that I am working on various projects. I cannot get the camera to work, so pictures will be up later. I'm currently working on:

-Drop Stitch Lace Tank from Fitted Knits (60% done)
-Bubble Pullover from Knitting Nature (20% done)
-Marika from an Elsbeth Lavold knitting booklet (50% done)

I also just finished a dress from an old See & Sew pattern. What a break this has been from school!
Summer classes for me start up again on May 19th, which also happens to be my 21st birthday. ya-hoo. That will be 10 weeks of classes and clinicals (practicum at various hospitals on various floors) that will suck up all my time. I must get in as much of this fun stuff as the next two and a half months will allow zero time for dilly-dallying. oh well. For the rest of this week, I'll be living on a steady diet of yarn, fabric, Led Zeppelin and little rays of sun bending into my basement windows.

homeless and impoverished

2008-04-20T20:02:00.000-07:00

Today, I helped out at Home PDX, a church/friendly community for the homeless. It was simply great. My church, Evergreen Community, made pounds and pounds of pasta, bowls of salad, nearly 15 loaves of bread, and dozens of cookies. This was all to feed about 150 people. We had plenty for everyone and got to spend some time chatting with everyone after serving them. I hope everyone can do this sometime. The people there were so happy to talk with new people and they had some funny, as well as heart-wrenching stories.

One woman had left her husband after he broke her leg. She had to leave her daughter behind and has been living on the streets for four years. Her daughter is very angry with her and refuses to talk with her. Needless to say, this is devastating to her. She does, however, have a partner who treats her very well and he looks out for her as best as he can. Pray that she can contact her daughter and they will grow to love and understand each other. Also that she will be able to leave the streets.

Another man was talking about his frustration with God: he prays constantly yet sees no results. He is growing increasingly frustrated that God knows his needs, but won't provide them. I don't know what God's planning any more than the next person, but I would so love to give him hope and a promise that God will protect him. Pray that he will be patient and continue to praise God even in the hardest of times.

These stories were just from two people so please pray for the rest of those whose lives are just as difficult.

At the church in my hometown, there are two men from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) who are building an orphanage for 80 children. They need continual funding and as much prayer as possible. Please pray for them, that the orphanage plans would continue without too many bumps in the road and the children would appreciate their love and dedication. I am planning on going there once I'm done with school and hopefully get all the children as healthy as possible. I'll be bringing toothbrushes, shoes, pots and pans hopefully, mosquito nets, and possibly medications for immunizations. This is still all in the planning phase, but I hope to get funds raised and supplies donated. Here is their website:

http://www.cityofrefugeinternational.org/about/about.htm

Please visit and see pictures and pray as much as possible for these children.

wow and rain

2008-04-09T00:35:00.000-07:00

I love God. In case you didn't realize that. It always seems to be when I'm the most exhausted that He gives me the most strength. Self-pity starts taking hold, I start to become fed-up with being so over-worked, I become bitter with the world and what it is becoming, then He shows me something that completely changes how I think about the world at the moment.

Usually these moment-changing experiences are people who pop into and out of my life just to redirect me, to show that I am not alone, that I am loved and wanted. Sometimes it's all I can do to contain my excitement about being in love with God.

Today was another dreary April day in Oregon, complete with the expected rain/sun/showers rotating through the area every hour. As I was walking back from watching some school presentations, I began thinking about my life: friends, acquaintances, school, the future. Then it began to rain (not unexpected). It was one of those rains that you know is meant just for your enjoyment, water that sinks deep into your pores and reaches your innermost person and changes the entire day for you. One of those types of rains. When I got home, I was tired from thinking about everything in my life, but felt strong from that rain. The rest of the day was hard and tiresome, but the little things (like studying until delirium sets in, exchanging goofy emails) were so much better because of the rain.

It's hard to describe how I felt today (well, yesterday really). Relieved, stressed, blessed, peaceful, content, uneasy. But it was one of the feelings that lasts all day and you can't help but glow from the inside out. God is spectacular.

prayer request

2008-04-04T23:07:00.000-07:00

I have a prayer request: my step-sister found out she has colon cancer and is now trying to decide if she should get chemo, radiation, surgery, or in what order. She and her husband are also trying to raise their three-year-old and can use any and all prayers you send their way. Also send some prayer for a different doctor since her doctor in her hometown treated her terribly and has harmed her in the past during childbirth, but the lack of physicians make it hard to leave this one.

My dad was remarried about three months ago and some more of the new family is having health troubles: thyroid cancer and atrial fibrillation (there are four heart chambers: two artia and two ventricles. Fibrillation is when some of the chambers start to quiver, cannot pump blood, and have no regular rhythm. This is when a 'defibrillator' is used.). My new stepmom also has some trouble with blood sugar and is pre-diabetic. Health problems all around.

Thank you all so very much. I will keep updating when new information comes up.

updated

2008-03-30T20:16:00.001-07:00

This weekend was a great improvement from the terrible, etc. day last week. I did some house-/dog-sitting and had a grand time. I also went home and to a beautiful wedding, seeing many, many friends and family I hadn't seen in months or years. A wedding is the best way to end an icky week. It has also been raining/snowing/hailing for the last few days and will continue...I love days like that. I guess it's a must when you're born and raised in the Willamette Valley. The best part is when the sun breaks out of the clouds when it's still raining and the rain lights up...it's like Christmas.

I finished some homework, slept in, and have been feeding my knitting addiction with my fantasy yarn: elsbeth lavold silky wool. yummm. Alright, enough with the textiles. I'm also supposed to be having a dinner date with my aunties and my dearest cousin...so how could this week be as cruel as last week? And, to top it off, tonight is another Jane Austen story on Masterpiece Theatre. Oh, goody!

the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

2008-03-27T18:25:00.000-07:00

I will be relieved when tomorrow finally happens.

0900: Wake up from a deep slumber. Refreshing, you might say. I would too, if it hadn't been on a day when I was supposed to be at work at 0830. My boss said it's alright since there's nothing for me to do anyway. So, that wasn't terrible, but definitely a bad start to the day.

1500: I plan on walking to school only to look outside and see nothing but threatening grey clouds, plotting against me, just waiting until I get halfway between home and school to start their torrential rains. So, I decide to drive and, of course, the entire ride is sunny, not a drop of rain the whole rest of the day (so far).

1530: Going to a wedding this weekend and planning on taking the train or bus since I detest driving the I-5 corridor...a straight, flat drive with nothing but stinky Albany (truly a stinky city...with industrial buildings gushing fumes into the air so everything smells of old gym room with a hint of musty basement) and the occasional lovely field of sheep or other livestock. Anyway, no trains or bus leaves in the morning and none return that night, so I'm done planning a train ride with the four hours of extra time traveling to do homework. All the while, I am getting progressively more agitated and can feel my blood pressure rise and I begin glaring at innocent passers-by. Saturday, I'll be driving for four hours, all to go to a wedding. This better be one heck of a ceremony.

1730: After being in class and learning ALL about the brain and diseases that can affect it (not exactly a cheery, uplifting type of subject), I get a paper back I wrote last week and felt pretty good about. I got a 62%. Another punch in the gut. Thanks, God. I can tell you're there and testing me, but is this necessary? This is just cruel.

1800: Driving, driving, driving to the pharmacy. More sour faces in this store. Everyone, including myself, just wants to go home and would rather not be dealing with disgruntled employees before dinner. It's a great way to ruin your appetite, though. I get TWO prescriptions that total $320.00. My health insurance "flat-out refused to pay" for one of the medicines, so says the seemingly bored teller behind the counter. So, instead of getting that useful medication, I decide to leave it behind and only get the other necessary one. I am now fuming mad. I'm surprised I didn't explode at said teller for the newest addition to my ever-growing list of unfortunate events. I get in my car, am ready to leave this stupid parking lot, and just start the car in reverse when a crazed little girl runs behind my car. Close to hitting her. Parents not doing their job and seemed not to notice their daughter's brush with death...then again, neither did she. I then drive home with very little tolerance of future mishaps which may occur before bedtime.

So, there you have it. Today wasn't very good. It was actually one of the worst I've had.

I am, however, knitting a lovely sweater and it's coming along quite well. About 40% done already. And I have chocolate at home that is beckoning to me...so all is not lost.

and so it begins...

2008-03-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

So, this is how it all starts. I get bored one day and, the next thing you know, there's a baby blog.

This weekend is the first after Spring Break and we have four days off due to Holy Week. I decided to use this time wisely. Yesterday I woke up earlier than any sane mammal ever should and hopped in a bus with a friend and 100 of my new best friends to trek up to Vancouver, Canada. All to yell and scream at the Chinese Embassy to free Tibet. After four hours on the bus, we stopped at the border to check passports and ID cards and, after a two hour wait, all 110 of us, Tibetans mostly, boarded the new bus and got to the Embassy a few hours late, but with more enthusiasm than most.

Being around 300-400 people fighting for their country was probably the most powerful I have ever felt. This protest was invigorating and spectacular. The people were awe-inspiring. I encourage everyone to attend a Free Tibet protest; just by being there, you are making a huge statement in support of their cause.