He’s Dying, Why Can’t You Help Us?

Day 1-It was a week ago today when the founder of Pwoje Espwa came to me and asked that I help a 3-month old baby boy with hydroencephalitis get to the United States for emergency surgery. His name is Lixier and his head is three times the normal size. The pressure building up on his brain forces blue veins to pop out all over his head. His eyes are permanently fixed downwards and his cries are nothing more than whimpers. The slightest bit of sunlight or heat causes him great pain. His mother, a primary school teacher and major bread winner for the family, spends nearly every waking moment with him. An organization called the International Humanitarian Aid Foundation had arranged for the surgery at St. Joseph’s Hospital in New Jersey and found a host family for Lixier and his mother.
Day 2-I wasted no time in contacting the American Embassy in Haiti to schedule an appointment for an emergency medical visa. When I received no response the first time, I resent the same email in capital letters and with “URGENT” in the subject line. The Embassy responded within an hour of the second email. We were scheduled for the following morning at 11am in Port-au-Prince.
Day 3-Dan, the logistics coordinator, myself and Lixier and his mother boarded the 7am flight to PaP. The moment we stepped foot off the plane in Haiti’s capital city, the race began.
Several important documents that were needed for the visa had been sent to a hotel on the other side of the city for us to pick up before our appointment. When we arrived at the embassy, the guards at first refused to let anyone but myself and the baby into the embassy. Because I had made the appointment and the baby was the candidate for the visa, we were apparently the only ones approved to enter. After explaining the urgency of the case and showing him the baby, his eyes widened and he rushed us in without another word. Sure that we had all necessary documents, the Visa officer informed us that the infant would need a passport before a Visa could be issued. The mother had been told earlier that month that her baby didn’t need a passport. We’ve since learned that even a 1-day old child needs a passport to leave the country. At this point, it was a setback and nothing more. We had the child’s passport photo taken by a vendor on the side of the street, and hurried to the other end of town to the Haitian Immigration office to apply for a passport. Our driver, Garry, was with us the entire day, clearing the way, bargaining for lower prices and convincing officials that this baby would die if they didn’t give us what we needed asap. The immigration office turned us away. We had two more stops before we could even apply for a passport. We spent the day in the blazing sun walking through the slums of Port-au-Prince.
After a long and seemingly unbearbable day, we were approved for the passport and were told that it would be ready for us the next morning. The four of us stayed at a guest house in the city and had no problem sleeping through the night.
Day 4- We waited about an hour at immigration for the passport and once again set off for the American Embassy only to find out that they were unsatisfied with our documents and needed a few more before we could proceed with the application process. Now, four days into the process and still no visa, we began to get anxious. Lixier is worse off everyday and his mother is tiring quickly. Dan and I tried to stay positive, assuring the mother that we things will work out and that we needed just a few more documents. We left the embassy and made several calls to people in the states to have the missing documents sent over to the embassy via fax and email. By the time the documents arrived at the embassy, they were already closed. We would have to spend another night.
Day 5-We woke up early to be at the embassy when the doors opened. The necessary letters were in! The letter from the host family where Lixier and his mother would be staying pre and post surgery and the letter from the hospital stating that all costs will be covered by the hospital and that taxpayer money will not be used. I was elated. I looked to Lixier's mom and smiled. However, the smile didn't last long. Apparently, the hospital letter was signed by the Director of Physician and Hospital Affairs and not by the Chief Financial Officer of the hospital, which is what the visa application requires. At this point, I could not hold in my anger. I told the visa officer that this child will die if we don't get him to the states asap. I couldn't believe how picky they were being. "It's procedure," he replied. We snatched the papers back and left before I would say something I might regret.
While Dan was on the phone with the hospital in the states to try and get them to fax another letter asap from the CFO, I stayed with Lixier and his mom. We sat there in silence. I was afraid that if I said something to her, that she'd be able to hear the worry in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was take away her hope. Sitting in front of us was an 8-year-old girl. The mother of the girl turned around and told us that her daughter had the same thing when she was born and that surgery saved her life. You should've seen Lixier's mom's eyes light up! "Isn't she pretty? Look how beautiful she is," she kept saying. I must admit, even I regained a bit of hope.
2 hours later, Dan walked back in with an expression on his face that gave me goosebumps. He had just been on the phone with the Director of Physician and Hospital Affairs to find out that the Director never wrote any letter for Lixier. It had been forged. The hospital had never officially approved the surgery! Here we were, sent out blindfolded with a mother and dying child, spending day after day trying to get a visa, when in reality there would be no surgery. The hospital has since called to session an emergency meeting to consider the case of Lixier and the forged documents. Now we won't know until this week, whether or not the hospital will do the operation.
The man who forged the letter is someone I know, a pastor, and the founder of the organization that was responsible for getting Lixier surgery. I don't know what was going through his mind when he forged that letter. Perhaps, he felt the pressure to get us the necessary documents asap and thought he would do no harm and that no one would ever know. The reality, however, is that Lixier is going to die without surgery and now the little bit of hope that was given to his mother and father has been ripped away. What this man did was not only illegal and unethical but immoral.
I haven't given up hope yet. I will see this man today and I have a few choice words for him. But in the mean time, please keep Lixier and his family in your thoughts and prayers.