Lead - it's not just for paint anymore

I'm not going to kid myself and think there are a ton of you who've missed us, but in case you're one of the few who really have nothing better to do on a Friday night than read our insipid ramblings, there's a good reason we haven't posted since Monday night... We've been busy! Tuesday and Wednesday we did 20 cases, and the power went out Wednesday night anyway so we couldn't post even if we wanted to. In fact, the we've been running around so much getting cases ready, turning rooms over, doing surgeries, and seeing patients that the past few days have been a blur. Unfortunately, it's turned us into such eating, drinking, working, and sleeping (OK well maybe not so much sleeping) automatons that we've had left little time until now for reflection. The days have blurred together a little bit, but these are the salient points I remember...

The power goes out here a lot. The hospital does have a generator which gets turned off every day. When this happens, there is battery backup power which now runs the OR lights (no more operating in pitch black like last time) and vital equipment like the ventilator (breathes for you while you're asleep in surgery) and the C-arm (yes, we can now take xrays in surgery!). What we can't run on invertor power is the air conditioning. Which leads us to ...

It's really hot here. Maybe not so much outside, which is just plain hot, but specifically the OR, which is really hot.. They do have one steam autoclave to sterilize our operating room equipment, and when they open it up to retrieve our instruments it gets the entire area hot. The employees can't open windows to let the heat out because of the problem we've had with flies and mosquitoes buzzing aorund the OR. There is an air conditioning unit in two of the three OR's, but it goes down of course for hours at a time when the power goes out. Somehow this always seems to be during the hardest case of the day when you're wearing your lead apron and already sweating your brains out. Spekaing of mosquitoes and flies ...

We've learned to be flexible. I know we've posted this in previous Haiti trip blogs, and I've mentioned this in talks about our trips to Haiti, but it's grown every time. No more freaking out when a mosquito or fly buzzes around and lands on the sterile field. Just try and make a note of everywhere it hits, and cover that area up or change it if it happens to be on your person. Sometimes this all happens in such quick succession that it's hard to remember it all. Yesterday it started to feel like a game of Twister - OK, Matt's left sleeve, my right glove, the patient's right foot, and the corner of the table here! The flypaper above the OR table has been replaced with a handheld fly zapper that zaps the animal into oblivion. I suppose that when you have an air conditioning unit that is blowing air, dust, and germs, onto tthe OR "sterile" back table, you have to have an understanding about some things.

Haitians are some of the happiest people on earth. Despite everything they've been through, from colonialism, a revolutionary war, abject poverty, violent transfers of power, earthquakes, hurricanes, and cholera outbreaks, they still retain a lot of optimism and believe that the future will be better. The patient who doesn't smile back with just the awesomest smille when you offer one is very, very, rare. We went to an orphanage today and saw the same kids we saw there on our last trip in November. We brought them toys (including a boatload of soccer balls donated by Nancy Wallentine from ortho clinic at HCMC) and they were in aboslute heaven as they happily played their new toys. No fighting, no whining about what they could have gotten, and no steaing toys they want from other kids. These were some of the politest kids I've ever seen. And somehow a cheap piece of plastic manufactured in China just made their day.

We are now finally done. Earlier tonight, about three hours ago, we finished our last case of the week, sat down, aired out our sweaty scrubs, and breathed a huge sigh of relief and satisfaction. Somehow, with all the stress of 15-hour days, physical demands of trying to operate on difficult cases while wearing lead and drenched in sweat while dodging mosquitoes and flies, we've all managed to get through the week - all 8 of us - without any major confrontations, no fighting, no whining (OK well maybe just a little), and no personality clashes (at least not that I'm aware of ...). I'm really proud of the team, each and every one of them, for the great job they did this week. Beth, Amy, Heather, Jessica, Paige, Tom, Adam, and I survived another week down in Haiti doing 10-surgery days in 90+ degree heat while wearing lead radiation gowns and when power would be down for hours at a time. And yet I feel like it's a small price to pay for the incredible opportunity to learn from these incredible people here... who paid reparations to France for the "privilege" of winning their independence... who sustained an earthquake that killed 300,000 people... who have had almost every transfer of government power marred by violence... and who somehow manage to always come to the doctor meticulously dressed, wearing the world's biggest smile on their faces, and who are simply thankful that you're there trying to help them.