Admirable endurance
Endurance, (n.) the ability to withstand or be hopeful in apparent impossible situations, during long-suffering
Today allotted more time for me to spend with Dr. Penina Edmond. Days like these make me feel like a curious child, as I stumble through questions pertaining to medicine and the Haitian culture. Dr. Penina is not only a strong woman in her faith, role model, teacher and friend; If I had ever had an older sister, I think she would be ideal. At times she is stern in teaching or ensuring I am protecting myself, and others I find myself laughing with her, as a busy day at the clinic ends in slap-happy conversation.
Our last patient of the day, Marie-Carmen, who I have referred to before as “Maumie/Mommie” strolled her petite little 80 pound self in the door with a smile and a warm greeting. Somewhere around 76 years-old, she pops in the clinic to follow up with her Diabetes and Hypertension. Although, I don’t know if she comes more so because the medications have improved her quality of life or she likes to visit. She sat talking to Dr. Penina and I about her children– all but one of whom had passed away. One baby only after 22 days, one at a year and a half, another at two years… and the rest I couldn’t keep up with translating in my head. Marie-Carmen’s mother had 15 children. She lost 12 of them. And Dr. Penina asked questions.. the babies did not have diarrhea, no vomiting. Marie-Carmen had taken many of them to the doctor with no clear understanding of what sickness ultimately led to their deaths. Whether this is a result of poor patient teaching, or just the difficulty of obtaining health care and medications, I have not a single clue. The possibilities are endless. It takes more time and effort to go to a pharmacy, and then another and another, in search of a medication, than one raised in the Western world could imagine.
Aubree and Shelli entered the room toward the end of the conversation, Marie-Carmen had started to doze. We eagerly asked Dr. Penina about “move san” or “bad blood,” because over the weekend in her absence an emergency case was brought to the clinic. The young man in his thirties, unable to walk or speak, was carried in by his family members. They said he had been normal that day, but had become angry with a co-worker 3 days prior which caused ‘move san.’ As we watched him experience periods of hyperventilation and muscle rigidity, he remained unresponsive to any interventions. The family was upfront, and imminent in refusing any injections or IV, as everyone knew this would kill their loved one with ‘move san.’ You never give a shot or IV to one
The room was running over with intensity as the young man’s muscles tensed up again. Medically, his behavior implied some kind of brain injury. But the history was unclear, as the family was set on the diagnosis of ‘move san.’ And we knew, ‘move san’ was a myth. So we sent him to a hospital where tests could be performed and a Haitian doctor could help this family to understand the gravity of the situation.
The next day when we inquired about the young man, his family said he was home and normal again; he did not have a “doctor’s sickness.”
Well, as we sat there telling Dr. Penina the story, I finally asked, “Is ‘move san’ real?” I expected her to find this question absurd, and then explain where the myth originated.
She instead answered with a simple, “yes.”
After a long conversation (which Marie-Carmen slept through) it comes down to a few factors. ‘Move san’ is a common experience for Haitians… one that is real because they believe it to be so. It is not caused by a veritable problem with one’s blood. It is caused by the physical and psychological endurance required for a person to get from day-to-day living in Haiti; it’s a place where the attitude toward loss or emotional upheaval is to bury the emotions and move on. In reality, the attitude is functional and necessary for a population consistently experiencing instability and emotional anguish. But we all know that emotional distress can lead to physical manifestations if not dealt with… in some cases, anxiety attacks, esophageal spasms, headaches, pseudo-seizures, loss of appetite, or a big zit smack dab in the middle of your nose. Some people even become hysterical.
Now, the man with a fungal-type rash covering his body who got in a fight last November claiming to have ‘move san,’ are the stories I’ve heard which lead me to believe ‘move san’ has no validity.
Without Dr. Penina, I would never have been able to differentiate or understand the scenario this family found themselves in. At the time, a doctor and two nurses with a Western background were completely useless to this man and his family. Not having a cultural understanding ourselves, or the presence of someone to act as a liaison that understood both culture and medical worlds, we were and would continue to find ourselves unable to connect and form sustainable aid with the Haitians.
Enter, Dr. Penina.
I’ve realized, as Dr. Penina shows me great patience each day while maintaining her composure after hearing heartbreaking stories every day, how invaluable she has been in every and any success our clinic has had. Not once have I seen the woman loose composure when composure is needed.
She, like Marie-Carmen and countless Haitians, have shown me an endurance like I have never seen before.
Like many other healthcare workers, my strength is empathy, mercy. I am being shown how this gift could also be classified as my vice. Empathy is not a strong enough to yield life-enriching or sustainable changes; nor is an American or Western world solution going to be sustainable. This revelation is extremely humbling, but also provides a powerful direction to how I hope to continue serving. I would consider myself honored to work alongside doctors like Penina to rebuild a community in Haiti’s healthcare options.
No comments:
Post a Comment