Carnel Medicine In Haiti

CNN Article on a volunteer physician’s experience in Haiti 

Most people I know have been very emotionally affected by the disaster in Haiti and feel compelled to help.  At the same time we feel useless.  Often when you help some one or some thing you receive an immediate reward.  If someone tells you they are hungry you can immediately help them.  You buy a sandwich satisfy their need for food.  They will likely smile and give you thanks.  You know you have helped that person.  You can see it and you can feel it.  It is a complete and tangible transaction.  You can see what you have changed and it can drive you to continue to good things in the world.  Unfortunately, where Haiti is concerned most of us do not have the skills or the resources to help in this concrete “I’ve made a difference” sort of way. 

For us who lack these skills and resources the only outlet for our desire to help is through money.  We all know money is important and any aid effort needs capital to mobilize, but unless you have a gymnasium named after you it is hard to really see that your contribution made a difference. 

According to articles that I’ve read there are enough bodies in Haiti right now and they need money more than anything.  Even with this knowledge only donating funds doesn’t seem like enough to me.  I feel I have to get dirty.  In my heart it is the only honest way to help.  It is to easy to give money. 

I think this is what gives me the desire to be a doctor.  I want to be able to help at all costs and most fundamental way that I can see to help is by healing or at the very least by comforting.  In Haiti those who are there volunteering are getting dirty.  They are stripped down. 

The article linked to above talks about having to face the gritty and unashamed reality of the situation with one’s brute humanity.  There is no CT contrast dye in Haiti.  No modern equipment at hand.  The physicians are forced to lay down their technology and use their hands.  They are forced to create their own surgical areas.  They are not being provided for and must create everything they need. 

I admire these people covered in blood and intimate with the women, children and men they treat.  I admire how they fight against pain and fear with touch and knowledge.  I admire how they face their humility. 

Perhaps I’ll be able to join them someday on the front of primary care?

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