Last Wednesday I started going out with the truck. Meaning, going out with the truck to the different tent cities and either doing people's dressings/wound care where they are or bringing them in for whatever help they need. I could write a lot about the difference experiences out there but for now I will write about today.

I worked the night shift last night at the hospital last night and the plan was to go out with the truck after we finished report and be back by Noon or so to catch some sleep before I work tonight at 7 PM. Because of the three day “fast and pray for Haiti” events that have been going on, we've been down on dressings, which meant we were way up on dressings today. Waaaaay up. As in, if there is anyone left in Port au Prince who needs a dressing change, it ain't for lack of trying on our parts. I don't remember how many places we stopped or how many dressings we changed. The hour kept getting later, but every stop was taking two and three times longer than it normally does.

At one stop where we normally do dressing changes actually on the truck, our new ortho PA took stitches out of a pre-teen boy's recent below knee amputation surgical site. He cried when he saw the instruments. Man how these kids are learning to hate health care providers! The kid's grandma (his mom is still in the hospital with injuries sustained in the quake) gently held one hand, the friend (partner maybe? I keep hoping) of one of regular dressing change patients gently held the kid's other hand. “You don't have to look if you're not ready” I reminded him. I dunno. What else do you say? 

As the day continued we loaded up more and more folks onto the truck, including a baby who had allegedly been having diarrhea for five days. When I picked up the baby to do an assessment, he immediately demnstrated said diarrhrea on my shorts saving me the trouble of asking questions about its color and consistency.

One of the other team members said tonight "I never need to hear the words 'li fe mal' (it hurts, or literally 'it makes bad'") again." It's hard to be present in this much pain, or at least to stay present. I want to think of how this person is different from me, how they are somehow more equipped for this time of misery.

Anyway, at least no gunshot wounds like last Wednesday. But still, a long day.



The truck, inside view. Getting ready to go out.