Yesterday we were anticipating a quiet, stay-at-home day due to the presidential elections here in Haiti and our great desire to keep out of the way. (Praise the Lord, the election process turned out to be overwhelmingly peaceful and orderly! We had nothing to worry about.)
But while we were sleeping in (after a fun day of celebrating Melissa's birthday), Johnny arrived on our porch, exhausted and in tears. The story came clear over the next several hours in bits and pieces: His mother had come home from her work at the meat market in Cap Haitien Saturday evening not feeling well.
(If you are picturing an airy butcher's shop with fluorescent lighting and large freezer cases, you're off by several miles.)
By ten o'clock Saturday night, she was nearly unconscious and Johnny and his twin brother John took turns carrying their mother on their backs down the mountainside in the rain to the closest medical clinic with 24 hour care, a full mile from their house. (A neighbor with a motorcycle refused to give them transport because he didn't want to get wet.)
The medical staff gave Therese very little attention, but when the vomiting and diarrhea started, an attendant started her on an IV.
Unfortunately, there was no power in the clinic and, in operating by the light of a solar-powered lantern, the attendant had MISSED the vein. The family was unaware that the IV was doing nothing to re-hydrate Therese, but they were acutely aware of her worsening condition. Her skin was becoming deeply wrinkled and her feet and hands were curling inward.
With early morning coming, they decided to hail a taxi to take her to another clinic - this one closer to Cap Haitien. Doctors there were able to fix the IV problem but Therese was no longer talking and the diagnosis - cholera - had the staff wanting to send her on to the general hospital downtown.
Johnny's family knew they didn't have the $20 to take an ambulance, not to mention all the additional charges that were bound to mount hour by hour at the hospital. (Here, typically a patient pays for supplies as they are needed. So, for instance, each new bag of fluid for the IV only comes with cash up front.)
That's when Johnny made the trip to our front door to see if our Bethesda Medical Clinic might be able to help. Our neighbor, Brett Bundy, made arrangements for Dr. Rodney to meet us at the clinic while Johnny and I took the pickup to retrieve Therese and the other family members.
Honestly, I would not have recognized her if I didn't know it was her. She seemed to have aged 15 years and she couldn't hold her head up and she couldn't speak. Her sons struggled to get her out of a wheelchair and onto a blanket in the bed of the truck.
By this point she had an IV in each arm and once we arrived at Bethesda, Dr. Rodney got her into a bed, checked her over and stepped up the drip rate. He was there with the family and keeping a watchful eye on her throughout most of the day. The hours crawled by, punctuated by occasional fits of vomiting and feverish shivering.
Therese is a widow with six children of her own - three boys and three girls. All but the youngest daughter (and another little girl the family had recently taken in) kept watch at the clinic throughout the day, along with grandma and grandpa and a close cousin (Mikenn's dad). After several hours, Therese started opening her eyes and responding with nods to questioning and the family seemed quite relieved to finally witness a turn for the better in her physical condition. Soon they were discussing the possible outcomes of the election and telling politician jokes and having a laugh at Grandma's expense. (They were cracking that Grandma was born just shortly before Christopher Columbus first landed in Haiti.)
Around noon, Melissa brought down some sandwiches and pizza slices and a pitcher of water to share and the family was very appreciative and everyone's mood was lifted a bit more.
And I started to feel like it was OK to take a few pictures. ;-)
Johnny waiting patiently and prayerfully inside Bethesda Clinic. |
Now and then a chicken would wander inside, peck around a bit and then leave. Not much more than that for entertainment through the day. |
The lack of sleep eventually started to catch up with people. |
The clinic after dark is a quiet and solemn place. |
The night watchman's shirt was a reminder to us that Johnny's family is not the only one suffering from cholera: "Remember: Cholera is always there. It is not finished." |
Milot's Sacred Heart Hospital has a well-deserved reputation for the best medical care in the North of Haiti and we were glad when they quickly received Therese as a patient and gave her the attention she needed.
Co-worker and friend, Coach David made the trip out mid-morning to visit and to pray over Therese. |
We don't know how long Therese may be in the hospital. We are praising God for preserving her life through this trial thus far and it seems the worst is behind her. And, as always, we thank God for placing Dr. Rodney in our midst and for the servant heart He has gifted him with.
Our prayers are now for complete healing with no lasting ill-effects from her extreme dehydration. (The Milot doctor was concerned about Therese's slow heart rate, for example.) Also, we pray that the cholera would be halted from spreading any further through the family - it can be highly contagious.
Speaking on behalf of Johnny and his family, we would be thrilled if you would join us in these prayers. We have recently seen God's miraculous healing power at work in the lives of friends back in Indiana and we know He can work miracles here in Haiti as well.
It's not finished - but the Lord is in control.