Day II: Derac and Milot

Day Three.

Second DeRac Clinic a success. Saw some 240 patients according to the census.

When we started out from Living Hope Mission, a young man approached the van asking to have a doctor look at a mouth issue he had for quite some time. We told he we would be happy too, but had to get the team to Derac. He agreed to return later.

Out at DeRac, we ran well ahead of schedule and things we more coordinated. Our pharmacy team had taken control if the meds by now and were running the process with great efficiency, All the teams were humming along and we even got in a little surgery.

The most interesting surgical case was a 2year old boy. Now as this is a family blog, I will spare the gory details and tell you only that the child required a procedure related to a circumcision to relieve what is called a phimosis.

The surgeon did not have a scissors small enough to do the delicate job. Many of you have heard me brag about the leatherman being the ultimate bush tool, even superior to the Swiss army knife with the leatherman's pliers, multiple blades and tiny tiny scissors.

Maybe I should skip the details of what happened next, but suffice to say, after extensive sterilization, the that Leatherman once again proved it’s worth.

Back in Cap, we finally got to see the patient with the mouth issue and sad to say there was nothing we could do for him. The growth in his mouth was making it harder to eat and swallow and without intervention, it would end very badly,

Then I remembered bumping into some doctors who were going to the hospital in Milot who gave me a card and said if I needed anything to call. Well I needed something.

We jumped in a truck and were off to Milot.

It was a different experience than last time I was there. Three years ago it was a hair raising ride through what felt like some sketchy territory. This time, it was a drive to Milot, no more exciting than a ride to the mall. We were able to walk the streets between the hospital and the living compound and basically be ignored. The most action we saw on that street was a Cardiothoracic surgeon scoring a good deal on some Haitian paintings.

The hospital in Milot has been transformed from a small outpost into a tent city with uncounted numbers of Americans working away. One of the nurses walked into a ward there and the charge nurse looked up and said “I’m not going to remember your name so don’t bother. Just tell me what your capable of.”

There were five larger tents housing maybe 40 patients each. Many amputations and external fixaters on. Surgrons were working in an OR smaller than most restrooms I’ve been in. They are however getting the job done.

We found “Dr. Tony” who we met in the airport on the way over and he enthusiastically agrees to help us. He brings us to meet the coordinator of the hospital who comes across like a character from a Clive Clussler novel or perhaps Lt. Col. Kilgore from Apocalypse Now depending on your reading/movie preferences.

His name is Tom Traynor and he has a large gray beard and a shock of unkempt gray hair running off in every direction. We find him seated chomping a cigar with a Haitian gentleman and they seem to be watching Mr. Traynor’s pet goat. I introduce myself and he too agrees to help. I give him a card with my email on it. I am told they copy the info into the computer, then feed the card to the goat.

Either an incoming team of facial surgeons will help here locally or perhaps he’ll be brought back to the states for surgery. It’s a fascinating case that any OMFS service would kill for.

Mission accomplished, we break for home, but again, this is not the Milot of 3 years ago and honestly, it was just a nice ride home. The dogs kept me up all night again, but so it goes. I am wondering how long till the sleep deprivation causes a psychotic break.

Am I really in Haiti, or is this the Third floor(Psych) of the hospital at home?

More later.