The Tuberculosis testing and treatment program is off the ground. Within the next week or two, I hope to have all of the children who test positive receiving INH treatment. Dr. Cynthia, a nephrologist from Maine and the Medical Director of the clinic along with Dr. Jerry, a pediatrician from Alaska helped me to plan out and execute the first part of the TB program during their 8-day visit from the states. I’ve been spending a few hours each morning giving out PPDs to test for TB, reading results and listening to the chests of every child/adult that tests positive. If the patient is breathing clearly and has no complaint of coughing, I move them on to INH prophylactic treatment to help prevent them from developing active TB later on down the road. If their exam doesn’t come back clear, then that’s my cue to send off for a chest x-ray and move carefully from there.
The medical group that came along with Dr. Cynthia and Dr. Jerry included two other nurses, Hervè and Claudette who helped to distribute tetanus shots and oraquick tests (oral HIV/AIDS testing) and Dr. Drew, a dermatologist from Virginia. Everyone from this group except for Dr. Jerry was a part of the first medical team that I participated in on my first visit to Haiti in January. It was great to see everyone again. Dr Drew let me assist on a big cyst removal and gave me several pointers on how to better my suturing and helped teach me to identify and treat several of the skin problems that come into the clinic on a daily basis.
While Dr. Cynthia was here, I went over the new design for the public health clinic that I put together with her. She liked my ideas and gave me the ok to push forward and get going on fundraising and development. The kitchen hygiene and sanitation project that I initiated a few weeks back is now at phase II until I can secure the remaining funds to begin constructing the new building.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Running Update
My new running partner is Fritzner Phanor. He's 22 years-old and has been living at the orphanage since he was 13. He was one of the first boys I befriended when I moved down to Haiti and we've been inseparable ever since. Throughout these last four months, I've worked with Fritz every morning Mon-Fri, doing public health training and teaching him about various testing, treatment and preventative methods regarding several diseases endemic to the area. Now that he is comfortable with the material, we've started a public health team of five older boys from the orphanage who we are teaching to become public health workers that will go out into the villages and do outreach. I do the lesson plans and Fritz teaches the class. He's great with the guys and gets them excited about the material. He's committed and passionate about his work and the difference he's making. Sponsored by a hospital in Maine, he's been granted the opportunity to attend a lab tech school where he can get the medical training he's been longing for. All of the children at the orphanage see him as a role model, a great soccer player and an overall good guy. It was obvious that he was the perfect person to run this marathon with me.
Training is going great! Last Sunday, we did our first 18-mile run. We started at 5am to avoid the midmorning sun and were amazed at how much faster and comfortable we were. However, by 6am, we were already running in 80 degrees. The course I took us on included 2 miles of rocky road, 1 mile of dirt path, 12 miles of paved road and 3 miles up a mountain road. We finished in just under three hours. I assured Fritz that there are no mountains at the marathon, nor will we be running in the same 90-95 degree weather that we're used to running in here. "We're working extra hard so that the real run won't be nearly as intimidating as it seems," I would tell him. We're running about 45 miles/week with Mon & Fridays off for cross training.
I've got running trails mapped out all over the area so that depending on the day and mileage, we take a different course. Some are muddy and rocky while others are nearly all paved. I like to save the paved road for our long runs on Sundays, mainly because it is the same surface we'll be running on for the marathon but also because it is not easily accessible and requires us to run 2 miles down a rocky road with tons of potholes and difficult terrain before we can reach it. It's not worth the trouble if we're running just 6-8 miles on a regular day.
Training is going great! Last Sunday, we did our first 18-mile run. We started at 5am to avoid the midmorning sun and were amazed at how much faster and comfortable we were. However, by 6am, we were already running in 80 degrees. The course I took us on included 2 miles of rocky road, 1 mile of dirt path, 12 miles of paved road and 3 miles up a mountain road. We finished in just under three hours. I assured Fritz that there are no mountains at the marathon, nor will we be running in the same 90-95 degree weather that we're used to running in here. "We're working extra hard so that the real run won't be nearly as intimidating as it seems," I would tell him. We're running about 45 miles/week with Mon & Fridays off for cross training.
I've got running trails mapped out all over the area so that depending on the day and mileage, we take a different course. Some are muddy and rocky while others are nearly all paved. I like to save the paved road for our long runs on Sundays, mainly because it is the same surface we'll be running on for the marathon but also because it is not easily accessible and requires us to run 2 miles down a rocky road with tons of potholes and difficult terrain before we can reach it. It's not worth the trouble if we're running just 6-8 miles on a regular day.
New Email Address
Hi Everyone!
My Brown email address has been canceled because I am deferring a year. Please use my new email willinhaiti@gmail.com
Thanks!
My Brown email address has been canceled because I am deferring a year. Please use my new email willinhaiti@gmail.com
Thanks!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Searching for a dentist
Fr. Marc (founder of Pwoje Espwa orphanage) came to me with a problem. Several of the children in the village are suffering from horrible toothaches and we have no way of easing their pain besides giving them some ibuprofen. He asked me to go into town to find someone who can help. The next morning, I hopped on the dirt bike with my right-hand man, Fritzner (the boy who’ll be running the marathon with me) and headed into town to search out any and every dentist I could find. We visited six dentists in under two hours, not including the three dentists we met at the General Hospital where they only pull teeth and nothing else. They all gave me their prices and worked to convince me why I should choose them to be our “go to dentist” for our 640 children. Their prices ran the gamut, as did the services the dentists able to provide. At the end of the day, I found the perfect dentist. She even agreed to come to the orphanage for consultations, tooth pullings and training sessions on good mouth hygiene.
They were all very nice and took time out of their day to talk to me with no advanced notice. Two dentists, left their patients in the middle of a procedure to sit down and speak with me. It’s amazing how the color of my skin seems to command immediate attention in this country.
They were all very nice and took time out of their day to talk to me with no advanced notice. Two dentists, left their patients in the middle of a procedure to sit down and speak with me. It’s amazing how the color of my skin seems to command immediate attention in this country.
A Shooting Star
It’s 3am. I woke up from the sound of my fan going on and off which means that our batteries are wearing out and soon there will be no electricity at all. When this happens, it’s best to turn everything off and save what little battery we have left for when we really need it. I’ll post this message as soon as the internet is back up
Once awake, there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep. I turned off my fan, put on some sandals and left my room for the cool night breeze. I climbed the little ladder outside my door and ended up on my roof, looking up at the brightest stars I have ever seen. The skies are so clear down here. You can see every star. In fact, there are so many stars that stretch so far, that it’s difficult to look up at them while standing. The vastness of the night sky is dizzying. I sat down on the cement roof and looked out to the East where earlier tonight, you could‘ve seen the lightning from the thunderstorm just beyond the mountains. And that’s when I saw it. It was a shooting star, brilliant and unmistakable. I’d never seen a shooting star before and I’m sure that if I had, it couldn’t have been brighter than the one I saw tonight. I sat there mesmerized, anticipating a storm of falling stars. As I write this, I realize that I failed to do the single most important thing when you witness a star shoot across the sky—make a wish. I’m sure it’s not too late to make it up.
Once awake, there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep. I turned off my fan, put on some sandals and left my room for the cool night breeze. I climbed the little ladder outside my door and ended up on my roof, looking up at the brightest stars I have ever seen. The skies are so clear down here. You can see every star. In fact, there are so many stars that stretch so far, that it’s difficult to look up at them while standing. The vastness of the night sky is dizzying. I sat down on the cement roof and looked out to the East where earlier tonight, you could‘ve seen the lightning from the thunderstorm just beyond the mountains. And that’s when I saw it. It was a shooting star, brilliant and unmistakable. I’d never seen a shooting star before and I’m sure that if I had, it couldn’t have been brighter than the one I saw tonight. I sat there mesmerized, anticipating a storm of falling stars. As I write this, I realize that I failed to do the single most important thing when you witness a star shoot across the sky—make a wish. I’m sure it’s not too late to make it up.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
What is it?
I’m awake again. It’s about 1:30am. There is no electricity, so I’m just running on the remainder of my computer battery. By the time I post this message, it will be a day late.
I can’t remember a time in my life when I have fought so hard to sleep. I always considered myself one of the lucky ones—someone who could fall asleep under any circumstances, be it loud noise, extreme heat and even on an empty stomach. In school, this would often prove to be more of a curse than a blessing, seeing as how it took little more than the sound of my teacher’s voice to send me off to dreamland. But now, now I wish for that ease. I’ve tried putting a movie into my computer, listening to music, reading a dull book, but each attempt to tire myself fails. I wind up not watching the movie, not listening to the music and staring blankly at the page in front of me. I don’t know what it is. There is something on my mind, something unsettling or at the very least, distracting. I’ve tried to pinpoint it by writing in my journal but the task of free writing proves to be overwhelming.
I miss my family terribly. I think about my friends all of the time. I find myself retracing my entire life over and over, reliving the greatest and worst moments, until I find myself back here, in Haiti, surrounded by four walls of dirt, alone, laying on this hard mattress, looking up at the dark ceiling, to the loud hum of my fan.
Then I think about what it’s like when I wake up in the morning. The rising sun that fills my room with bright light, the cool morning breeze that has forced me under my sheets and of course, the sound of roosters crowing, cows mooing and children laughing. I look forward to the moment I first step outside of my room, for I will surely hear my name called by at least a half dozen smiling children.
It’s no secret, the emotional strain that comes with leaving those you love behind and moving to a place like Haiti. Faced daily with sickness, disease, hunger and suffering, I would have surely believed that after several months, my heart would have hardened into a rock, impenetrable by the injustices one becomes accustomed to seeing here. However, that was not the case. If anything, I find myself ever the more sensitive. I’ve been here 3 ½ months. I’ve learned the language, traveled the country, met with some of Haiti’s elite and treated some of its poorest. I don’t claim to have seen everything, but I’ve seen a lot and I’ve grown immeasurably over these last few months. I’ve been changed by this country.
I can’t remember a time in my life when I have fought so hard to sleep. I always considered myself one of the lucky ones—someone who could fall asleep under any circumstances, be it loud noise, extreme heat and even on an empty stomach. In school, this would often prove to be more of a curse than a blessing, seeing as how it took little more than the sound of my teacher’s voice to send me off to dreamland. But now, now I wish for that ease. I’ve tried putting a movie into my computer, listening to music, reading a dull book, but each attempt to tire myself fails. I wind up not watching the movie, not listening to the music and staring blankly at the page in front of me. I don’t know what it is. There is something on my mind, something unsettling or at the very least, distracting. I’ve tried to pinpoint it by writing in my journal but the task of free writing proves to be overwhelming.
I miss my family terribly. I think about my friends all of the time. I find myself retracing my entire life over and over, reliving the greatest and worst moments, until I find myself back here, in Haiti, surrounded by four walls of dirt, alone, laying on this hard mattress, looking up at the dark ceiling, to the loud hum of my fan.
Then I think about what it’s like when I wake up in the morning. The rising sun that fills my room with bright light, the cool morning breeze that has forced me under my sheets and of course, the sound of roosters crowing, cows mooing and children laughing. I look forward to the moment I first step outside of my room, for I will surely hear my name called by at least a half dozen smiling children.
It’s no secret, the emotional strain that comes with leaving those you love behind and moving to a place like Haiti. Faced daily with sickness, disease, hunger and suffering, I would have surely believed that after several months, my heart would have hardened into a rock, impenetrable by the injustices one becomes accustomed to seeing here. However, that was not the case. If anything, I find myself ever the more sensitive. I’ve been here 3 ½ months. I’ve learned the language, traveled the country, met with some of Haiti’s elite and treated some of its poorest. I don’t claim to have seen everything, but I’ve seen a lot and I’ve grown immeasurably over these last few months. I’ve been changed by this country.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
It was a long day
I can't sleep. I woke up with the fan on me this morning which is always a great start to the day because it means we have electricity. At 5am, I was at my computer typing up the day's lesson plan for my public health group. The lesson topic this morning was "Prevention vs. Treatment." Every weekday morning, from 8-11am, I teach 5 of the older boys at the orphanage about various diseases, testing and treatment methods and preventative measures. Depending on the complexity of the topic, we may spend an entire week learning about a single disease. After each topic, I give them a written and oral exam to ensure their grasp of the material. It's important that they are comfortable with the material, because at the end of the three month training program, they will be the ones who'll be entering classrooms in the local primary and secondary schools to teach others what they've learned.
My goal is to spread as much knowledge relating to public health as possible, in hope that through education I can empower those most vulnerable in rural Haiti--the children. To understand what those itchy bumps are all over your body and how to get rid of them and avoid getting them again is priceless for a child covered in scabies. To learn about parasites and why it is smart to avoid drinking dirty water may help prevent a child from getting worms, diarrhea and dying from dehydration. If this all sounds a bit dramatic, I assure you that it's no exageration. I've seen things that have made my skin crawl and it bothers me horribly that I can't be there every time to stop these easily preventable sicknesses from happening in the first place.
On another note, marathon training is going well. I've recently recruited one of the older boys from the orphanage to do the marathon with me. His name is Michel and he's one of our best soccer players and loves to run. He's been training with me for about a week now and he absolutely loves it. He's in great shape and has his heart set on winning first place. I must say, his drive to succeed is inspiring. I believe he's got enough heart to do anything. Fr. Marc bought him a pair of running shoes and some shorts. I've started him on a runner's diet, chock full of carbs, electrolytes and vitamins. It's great to have someone to run with. In the next week or so, we'll be getting him his passport and booking his very first flight for his very first time leaving the country. We're both through the roof excited and are counting down the 87 days until the race!
My goal is to spread as much knowledge relating to public health as possible, in hope that through education I can empower those most vulnerable in rural Haiti--the children. To understand what those itchy bumps are all over your body and how to get rid of them and avoid getting them again is priceless for a child covered in scabies. To learn about parasites and why it is smart to avoid drinking dirty water may help prevent a child from getting worms, diarrhea and dying from dehydration. If this all sounds a bit dramatic, I assure you that it's no exageration. I've seen things that have made my skin crawl and it bothers me horribly that I can't be there every time to stop these easily preventable sicknesses from happening in the first place.
On another note, marathon training is going well. I've recently recruited one of the older boys from the orphanage to do the marathon with me. His name is Michel and he's one of our best soccer players and loves to run. He's been training with me for about a week now and he absolutely loves it. He's in great shape and has his heart set on winning first place. I must say, his drive to succeed is inspiring. I believe he's got enough heart to do anything. Fr. Marc bought him a pair of running shoes and some shorts. I've started him on a runner's diet, chock full of carbs, electrolytes and vitamins. It's great to have someone to run with. In the next week or so, we'll be getting him his passport and booking his very first flight for his very first time leaving the country. We're both through the roof excited and are counting down the 87 days until the race!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
