A Life or Death Mission of Mercy…

The day was just breaking with a squall building in the east, the clouds dark and ominous, over the sea we would soon be crossing as we made ready the little sprit rigged sailboat we had built for a mission of mercy just such as this. With the gear stowed and all aboard we shoved off, set the jib, and hoisted the mainsail, reefed at the masthead, for with the sprit up the sail would catch another eight feet aloft and with the weather threatening, we would risk a blow knocking her down. We must hurry to reach the far shore, eleven miles off, for a young life was in the balance.

The day before was much like any other day, with the work going on in the shop, visiting with friends and neighbors, mending what I can for them here and there, and the coming and going of the people with cuts and colds and head aches and back aches, making me a little insensitive to all the calls and cries for bandages, bandaids, antibiotics, and such. So when the lady came by in the afternoon to tell me her daughter was ill and could I give her something to help her, I’m afraid I began the inquiry into her condition a little unsympathetically.

“What seems to be her problem?” I asked.  All the usual responses. Stomach ache. Head ache. Doesn’t want to eat.  I told her I wouldn’t give her anything without seeing her. She seemed pretty distressed and said that her daughter couldn’t come. “Ok, ok, I will come over later this afternoon and see her.” After receiving  directions, that evening a walk of 15 minutes or so brought me to a very marshy area surrounded by mangroves, and a little cluster of huts that could hardly be called houses.

I sat on a rock for a few minutes and visited with folks as they gathered around, but I was on a mission and the bugs here were particularly vicious. I found the family, was invited in, and as I passed through the door, I was introduced to Christela, a young lady 19 years old, so emaciated she could barely stand. I knew we were in trouble as I sat by her side on the bed and held her hand, trembling and shaking with what was, I feared, the last of her strength.

What to do! I’m no doctor! No doctor on the island! and this girl needed attention right away. Ok… First, pray for her. So with my hand on her head I called for her the Great Physician.

She had been throwing up everything she ate for many days and I knew she needed rehydrated. I rushed back to basecamp and searched high and low for the ORS I knew we had. No luck. Nowhere to be found. So potassium chloride and sugar water would have to do. 30 minutes later I was back at her side instructing her to drink it all and drink, drink, drink.

I called Janet looking for the number for the hospital in Bon Fin. Got it. Called Rick Aberly, the director there. Great guy and so helpful. I relayed the situation, after which he put me in touch with the chief of staff, Dr.Lee, another Brother so willing to help. As it was nearly dark, we decided the quickest course of action was to meet Dr. Gito, a pediatrician, in Les Cayes in the morning at General Hospital. He was coming from Bon Fin and would assess Christela’s condition.

“Meet me at daybreak,” I told Christela and her mother, “and we will go to the hospital to meet the doctor.” I left her with her mother, afraid she wouldn’t make it through the night. They came, however, early in the morning and she was visibly better. Not trembling so much. The Great Healer and ORS were at work.

We got her and her mother on board and set sail. We could see walls of rain in the distance but we sailed between the curtains of clouds and rain and were only a little wet when we arrived.

Now, arriving at Les Cayes is quite indescribable. I heard an Englishman say once upon returning from the experience, “It’s beyond the ken of man!”  That just about says it.

We anchor our boat. Out comes a small wooden Haitian boat. “Off you go!” Jump off our boat on to it with the surf tossing both around. They pole over close to the “shore”. (You really need to see for yourself.) “Off you go” onto a man’s shoulders. You ride on his back to where he deposits you onto a rubbish heap on the shore into a milling mass of people. “Beyond the ken of man!” No, really!

We arrived in this mess with a very sick girl who was some the worse for the experience to find that four police and two bad boys had been shot and killed in a gun battle the night before. Schools and all the businesses were closed and the roads were all blocked but we managed to get motos (motorcycle taxis) to take us to the hospital.

Let me just say that with all the carnage that night, it was another crazy maze to navigate. A story in itself. After a winding way to the hospital, we finally arrived and got to see Dr. Gito. Lovely man! He sent her on to the hospital in Bon Fin.

I gave them some money to tide them over. Sons of God at Bon Fin will take care of the medical. Now I must make my way home with a prayer in my heart and the wind in the sails.

Last I heard, she wasn’t doing well. We are waiting for an update.

Sometimes I don’t know but I trust I’m guided.  Knowing the privilege of what we do gives us strength to carry on.

Blaise Pascal said “The heart has reasons reason knows not of.”

Help us, oh God, to listen as you speak to our hearts. To believe the unimaginable, to see the invisible, to hold close the intangible, and dare to lose our life that we might find it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(The following pictures show some of the medical needs we deal with, from cuts to malnutrition.  First aid and pain relief is a constant part of what we do in Haiti. Thank you for your continued prayers for JUST MERCY as we seek to serve “the least of these”.)