Slow and Steady Wins the Race

Good evening,

Let me begin by saying that today was a grueling, challenging day for the team. We started early this AM with breakfast prepared by our gracious hosts. The time keeper woke us up some 1.5 hrs before we were supposed to move out!! Killing me but we laughed about it. Our journey here was brutal, leaving us drained and in need of rest.

Good News!!!! The remainder of our team arrived today along with all of our equipment and meds!!!! They survived the night in Cabo Rojo by being treated nicely by the bus service employees that drove us from Santo Domingo.

Several hundred pounds of instruments, food, water and medications were loaded onto trucks and brought to our so-called "command post" in town. The three native individuals who are part of our mission skillfully negotiated each day in their French and Creole languages. Creole has a remarkably melodic sound and makes me want to learn more about its origins from the French occupation of many African nations (during the slave trade). Even more, many of the patients encourage me to learn the language as I respond to them in English and very poor French.

I find the Haitian people to be extraordinarily resilient and spiritual. Catholicism and voodoo are practiced here and this is what is getting them through their times of dire straits. They sing daily with determination and an ardent desire TO LIVE.

Let me see. First, we went to the only public hospital in Jacmel. Dr. Brebbia, Dr. Agard, and myself met with the medical director today. In all honesty, I felt like he was shaking his head without understanding us. More accurately he was filled with a tremendous amount of bureaucracy and he cares a lot about how he is perceived. But who are we to criticize? We are visitors to his country. With much negotiating, however, we were able to be granted permission to practice at the hospital.

Next hurdle was trying to join forces with the Cuban and Haitian physicians already practicing. Despite initial resentment and stare downs from "El Jefe"- a rather heavy set man who refused initially to talk to us in Spanish or English, quickly warmed up to us. I thought quickly of talking about baseball and his pitching ability. Our rapport and bond despite living worlds apart has grown incredibly strong. Medicine is the universal language right now. In fact, I feel like we are trusted even more because I kept a promise to Rolando, a proud Cuban anesthesiologist who is running out of anesthetic agents. And I quote, "your people" show up and DO NOTHING".

Later on I found out that 2 American teams showed up a few days before and did not provide any support. In stark contrast our team showed up with so many supplies and medications, along with food and water that Roland, Daniel and all of the 23 Cubans are now handing out hugs every time we see them (well not all of them). Instead, I offer up hand shakes. Especially in light of the fact that Roland sweats a lot. LOL!!

Putting all political differences aside and recognizing the strength of joint collaboration is paramount to our success and sustainment in this region. We are on a mission to save lives.

Next, was the biggest struggle of the day. The picture that Antar Johnson posted on the blog page has a caption that talks about a home being destroyed. That pic is actually a major section of the hospital right next to the OR(operating room). The OR has been abandoned because the actual OR room sways during the aftershocks that have occurred. The natives REFUSE to go in there and the Cuban surgeons strongly feel it is an unsafe place to be while operating. You don't have to tell me once. I can see that the building has structural damage and the potential for collapse. I would NEVER sacrifice anyone's safety or my own safety in this situation (I contemplated it for 30 seconds). We would clearly be trapped if collapse occurred...for good in most cases. I admit that I was stupid today as I walked in with a Canadian engineer to assess the operating room table and lights. The anesthesia machine unfortunately does not work.

Setting up a portable OR outside (where there are unsteady structures) was a challenge. Today we found a site and we had to problem solve. How can you make the operating room functional? My answer along with the other team members was to find a tent and move all of the equipment (OR table, anesthesia machine, lights, medicines). Not your ordinary tent by the way. Instead, a mod unit that looks very similar to those used in Korea and Vietnam to establish "field hospitals".

We were resourceful today. We spoke with UN forces from Sri Lanka and they gave us transportation to the docks. There stood Major Bouchard, the commanding officer of the Canadian military medical corps. She was not only a strong female role model, but she was sharper than a Ginsu knife with a sprinkle of compassion like Mother Teresa. She understood our resentment of all the "red tape" and helped us to get a much needed win for the day. She granted us the field tent, had her engineers survey the land and the surrounding buildings (inclusive of a damaged water tower) to ensure our safety, and is providing diesel fuel for a generator tomorrow. Furthermore, Canadian forces went into the dilapidated building and pulled out ALL the OR equipment putting it under the tent.

Starting tomorrow AM I hope to be doing some operating room cases to clean up wounds and address soft tissue injuries.

A little girl some 9 years of age was screaming at the top of her lungs because two of her fingers had been amputated during the initial quake. Doctors from Fairfax, VA were doing dressing changes. Needless to say, it was a blood kurdling experience for everyone. Her cries are representive of all of Haiti right now.

We have made calls home for an anesthesiologist and an orthopedic surgeon as many fractured bones need fixation.

What a whirlwind!!!

In closing, there are dead bodies piling up, red tape in a third world country is paralyzing, there is no one taking the lead with coordination, crooked officials appear to care very little about their people and we are fighting against all odds. We plan on a full day tomorrow. God help us.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race- at least that's what I keep telling myself.


Respectfully,

Steven A. Johnson