The place where typical does not exist.

A lot of people have asked me what a typical day in Haiti is like. The answer always evades me. There’s nothing ordinary about this place. Some nights, it’s as quiet as a church. Other nights, you can hear a gun shot in the distance and you’re quickly reminded that this is not a vacation, no matter how much you love the heat versus the snow back home. This is Haiti. Anything typical was buried here long ago.

The team worked hard all day.  And after seeing over 60 patients yesterday, it was now time to operate. The OR staff saved two lives today…one from a gunshot wound with injuries to multiple veins. The whole team clicked into action… from Carlos in the ER to Lisa, our radiologist.  Then straight to the OR where it is like symphony, every one working as one. And today that concert was conducted by Dr. Pridham and Dr. Boone.

In the very room next door, separated by a window that opens, the resident team of Dr. Smith and Dr. Decker were amputating an arm of a 16 year-old boy with cancer. The procedure saved his life.

Emily, our physiotherapist, was busy in the spinal care unit working with para and quadriplegics. And then there’s the real fuel of the machine. The nurses.  I have always said they can do a lot without us. But we can’t do anything with out them. Here and at home, I have so much respect for them. So much to thank them for.

The flow of patients never stops. And it’s heartbreaking to see the faces on the ones that are turned away at the gate because the hospital is at capacity.

A typical day in Haiti.

I hope some day that will exist.