I almost didn't go to the hospital today, because I'm feeling a little blue over my last visit—I felt so unneeded. I want to be here to learn and help, not just to learn. At times I feel like we're imposing our presence for our benefit, not Haiti's.
Despite my funk, I walked to the hospital. I planned to go to the AIDs clinic (where the doctor has a reputation for doing a great job teaching visiting care providers).
On the way to the clinic, I poked my head into the consultation room and saw Neyvi, the Cuban-trained Mexican doctor, and her assistant Jean-Remy. They invited me in and shooed away the other students and interpreter (sorry, folks). I had a wonderful day treating patients.
Here is my patient log. Although most of these entries are a bit boring unless you're in the medical field, the last patient is worthy of a read.
Neyvi had been telling me all morning that since there were two women getting ready to give birth, she was going to deliver one baby and I was going to deliver the other. Um, okay, doc.
I'm not ambitious enough to write out this entire experience, but here is the abbreviated version.
The baby wasn't coming out. After examining the patient, Neyvi checked her gloved fingers and saw brown discharge, probably from a bowel movement from the baby. Then Cathy (a midwife in our group) came and offered to deliver the baby. Neyvi said that'd be fine and she left. (I hope she didn't feel pushed out.)
A Hatian nurse eventually got pissed because there were too many people in the room (all Blancs), so I left. I came back about 45 minutes later and the baby had just been born. She wasn't breathing, was gray, and wasn't moving. (Medical pals, she was somewhere around a 1 to 3 on the APGAR.)
Cathy asked me, "Can you resuscitate babies?" Being ridiculously unqualified and over confident, I said yes and asked for a CPR mask. Several people replied, "There isn't one." [Now, as I type this, I realize I had one in my book bag!]
Krista, a nurse from Park City, Utah, who had been in the room for the delivery, began two-finger compressions on the baby.
The nurse rubbed the baby with alcohol, vigorously, slapped her feet, and she began to move. She pinked up over several minutes. Damn, I wish I'd remembered that I had a CPR mask! Oh well, the baby lived.