He is a cute little guy isn't he? He and his mama are very sick. You have already met his mama. Her name is Rosie, his name keeps changing. My day with Rosie and baby started at 6 a.m. when they showed up at the gate for an appointment at the AIDS clinic. Yes, she and baby are both positive. She didn't need to be here until 7 a.m. with a family member that she seemed to forget. I sent her back home to get some one to go with her to answer questions since she isn't able to provide them with the information they need to treat her and baby. Finally, she and baby would leave with an escort for their appointment. They returned about one o'clock and there would be no denying baby was very sick. He has been very sick for days and I have been holding my breath every time she comes to the gate. I keep hoping she is suddenly going to connect the fact that he isn't doing well, but it isn't happening.
So, Jes (with one s) and I spent her last day in Haiti trying to get him to eat one milliliter at a time from a dropper. It wasn't staying down and his fever was 103.3. I called Dr. Jen, she told me what I had known since 6 a.m., he needed to go to the hospital. John came down, looked at him and said, he is going to die. Within minutes we got in Juniors car and headed out. We would come up with a plan as we drove. The first hospital wouldn't take him because he was too young. Off we went, downtown to General Hospital. I have been there before and didn't have a good experience, so I didn't really want to go again with little man. But, we have very limited options with the cost of medical care and no budget for these kinds of things. General Hospital is a large complex of many white buildings with forest green trim. It kind of reminds me of an old church camp with a blue and white Catholic church off to the side and people praying at the locked gates. There is one main street inside the complex littered with trash, people waiting, eating and sleeping. While you are there you are responsible to have someone stay with the patient at all times, empty the bedpans and bring in food and water. When you get an actual visit from a doctor and medication is needed you must leave the compound, walk down the street outside filled with pharmacy after pharmacy looking for the meds that you need. There is no a/c, no padded chairs, no clean towels or sheets, you get what you can carry in with you and that is it. So, while you are out it is good to get a bite to eat from the street vendors and a bottle of water and prepare for the long wait.
I will just say that this visit wasn't going well either because as we walked in the front door my foot landed in a pool of diarrhea and I almost fell. If you have ever been to Haiti you can now join me in saying - sick. You understand that the diarrhea was now dripping in my shoe and on my foot since no one wears closed toe shoes here. I wanted to pour water on my foot and erase what was happening, but I couldn't bring myself to waste clean, cold drinking water in front of anyone who would see me. It would have to wait and I would try not to think about it.
After sitting for a while Junior would go and find an official type looking person in a white lab coat to do a quick exam, finally he would agree to move us up in our number assignment. I was so thankful, but felt it was unfair. It didn't seem right to move ahead when so many needed help. To be honest, after the third time little man stopped breathing the feeling of unfair was quickly gone and I was pretty sure the guy in the white lab coat was a friend of God. The next time I saw him he was clocking out for the day, he waved good-bye leaving us sitting inside where we would get a bed and not be in the waiting room any longer.
Time moves so slowly when you are watching a sick child take every breath, not sure if that will be the last one. The room was small, filled with too many beds and people but I was happy to be in the same room with a doctor and a nurse. I was happy Rosie finally connected long enough with what was happening to give us the blanket she was holding to lie on the black plastic mattress. The room was filled with other mothers begging for help. To say we stuck out like a sore thumb would be a gross understatement, we were screaming for attention by now. We only added to the chaos of what was already happening and everyone wanting to know what the two white women are doing with that baby as the mother with a blank stare stood in the hallway watching. I held back the feelings of wanting to run from what was happening remembering my first trip to Haiti when another little boy died on the boat with us and I prayed this would be different.
After a few hours, we still had not been seen, but our house girl, Nedage, was now on her way to help Rosie and take our place for the evening. We would leave money for the meds needed and some baby Tylenol for little man. Rosie was now finally willing to come in and care for her baby. We prayed over him for the last time leaving him in the Lord's capable hands. My stomach was sick, I could not cry if I wanted to. We had just seen a mother with a tear stained face carry her dead baby in and out of the room looking for some one to help her, while another family would carry their dead baby out of the room on it's tiny bed almost rolling the baby off on to Jes' lap by tipping it too much in order to make it out with out hitting anyone. I wanted out, I wanted to run again, but I had to give this sweet little guy a few more kisses and we would go. Go back to our lives that seemed so rich and full of everything we needed while Rosie and all these families sat and waited. The sweat would run down their back and face all night long as I slept in clean sheets with a fan keeping me comfortable. How good God was to me and I knew it.
We met up with Junior in the parking lot. I would make one last call to John so I could double check myself. Should we leave or should we stay. We should leave. With little to say, I was happy to have the a/c on and to be headed home. Well, sort of headed home, because the story doesn't end yet. Several blocks away as we rounded the corner the engine would stop! Just stop with no warning. Just stop in the middle of the turn leaving us blocking traffic. Junior, who says, he is always in his office and travels with envelops and a stapler in his bag, said, why did it do that? This time, however, he didn't have something in his messenger bag to fix this one. We would have to try and push the car out of the intersection and wait. As we sat and waited, I told Junior, no one will believe me if I wrote a blog about this one. We laughed about the stuff that is a part of our everyday life here that no one would really think is funny in the States. But, because things like this happen everyday here, it has become normal. Soon John and several of Junior's friends came so we could pull his car back to get a new timing belt put back on, only breaking the strap once leaving Junior behind us in the middle of Delma, again blocking traffic.
It is a new day! Jes, with one s, went back home to Michigan and little man has made it one more day.....
