“Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in deed and truth.” (I John 3:18)
A mission trip is an expression of Christian love. On June 7, a group made up of St. Mark's parishioners, the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine, and St. Joseph's Hospital will set out to do medical mission work in a rural community outside Santa Barbara, Honduras. We have a comprehensive team - medical, lay, and clerical - and we have gathered as much medical supplies as we can. While we have been given some insights as to what medical problems we may face, we have tried to prepare as comprehensively as possible.
In Honduras, according to the UN, 23.8% of the population lives on less than $1 a day. Another 44.4% lives on less than $2 a day - this is extreme poverty. 30.1% of the population receives no regular health care; 83% are un-insured (World Health Organization). The poplation of Honduras accounts for 60% of those in Central America who are living or dying with HIV/AIDS or tuberclulosis (W.H.O.)
There's Plan A, and then there's Team Honduras
One thing we knew coming into this trip was that we’d have to be flexible. As of this morning, three of our eight boxes were still tied up in customs. We had already performed minor procedures without some of our equipment – we had to use steri-strips (fancy tape) in place of sutures, and topical anesthetic instead of injectable (which is not nearly as effective) – but now we were running short on medications. So we simply got creative.
We substituted as much as we could yesterday - Christie even gave her own asthma medicines to an elderly lady because we had nothing else for her - but eventually we got to the point where we were flat running out of supplies. Part of that was because we have seen larger quantities of conditions we did not except: huge numbers of hypertensives, diabetics, and patients with gastritis have come our way. So this morning we made a run to the pharmacy (good thing we had extra money in our budget!) and stocked up with what we could. They didn’t have as much as we wanted, but we still came away with a lot of stuff. And a good thing too, because this morning we saw more of the same: gastritis, hypertension, aches and pains, and infections of all sorts. And of course parasitic worm infections and malnutrition are more common than not.
By mid morning we were again at a critical level with many of our staple medicines, and then…our three boxes arrived. Just like that we were again well-stocked with what we needed. Our level of success, if we are to have any, will directly related to our ability to stay flexible, make adjustments, and have faith that, if we do our best, we will make a positive difference down here.
Medical Team Scores!
Day two- with the bare necessities, our well assembled volunteers have seen some pretty interesting things, such as: Divine intervention of a 7 month child with phimosis that escaped the scalpel, to cronic reflux and diabeties.
Our day filled with one unique challenge after another. All the while we are making friends and changing lives, it's all good!
The team I'm sure will all share stories of their own, however we for this sites purpose provide you with this snap shot, so enjoy and stay tuned formore in the coming days. Team Honduras-
Open for Business
Today started off with high hopes of our first full day at the clinic. The only catch was that our boxes of supplies were due to arrive this morning – so we awaited their arrival…hour by hour. Eventually we decided just to go with what we had, and rest in faith that we would still be able to make a difference while the supplies caught up to us. So we set off for Trinidad. The bus ride was full of anxiety: what would be waiting for us, and what would we be able to do about it? When we arrived, shortly after noon, we were met by a line of about 40 or so patients. None of the patients were angry because we were late, and none seemed disappointed by our lack of supplies. They stood there patiently as we did a few final adjustments to our set up. And then the supplies arrived. Five of the eight boxes came by van, so we promptly began setting up our pharmacy with drugs, supplies, and equipment. Finally, just after one, we opened up for business. We had three folks working triage, five practitioners diagnosing and treating, three or four in the pharmacy, and two translating and otherwise helping. Our doctors, PAs, and nurses did what they do best, and the rest of us were called upon to do things above what we typically do.
With the help of Doris and Kelli, Liz was able to triage patients. Under the guidance of Michelle, our practitioners – Matt, Amy, Mary Cate, and Christie – treated and diagnosed a vast array of ailments. Parasitic worm infections, scabies, urinary tract infections, cerebral palsy, chronic cancers…it was quite the mixed bag. With P.J. helping in the pharmacy, Nick, Aron, and Paul were able to sift through the bottles of medications we have and distribute them appropriately. Sara floated around and made sure everything was going smoothly, and, along with Aron, probably spoke more Spanish today than she has anytime recently. We were provided with three translators today, along with other local volunteers from Trinidad – they made the day possible.
We saw patients until shortly after 4, and that was about as long as we could have handled today. The total count was somewhere in the mid-50s: not bad for three hours work. I confess it felt like many more – it just goes to show how exhausting this work is. We made it back to San Pedro Sula in time for dinner, ready to do it all again tomorrow.
Trinidad
Today we went and visited the site of our clinic: the village of Trinidad. It is just this side of Santa Barbara, which is about and hour and twenty minutes by bus. It is a nice village: cobble stone streets give way to quaint house and a few odd shops. Most of its inhabitants work in the nearby coffee fields. We arrived this morning for a special mass that they were holding in our honor - they usually hold their services in the evening. The church is small with maybe seven rows of small pews on each side, and shows serious sings of weathering. But it is gorgeous. We were greeted with smiles and open arms, and we participated in a traditional Episcopal Eucharist, presided over by their rector, Father Hector. Though everything was in Spanish, it was hard not to understand the sentiment of everything that was said and sung – the welcoming sincerity and love could not be mistaken. The exchange of peace, in the middle of the service, was a long one, as we greeted, hugged, and kissed nearly every member of the congregation. After the mass we worked with Fr. Hector and members of the congregation to transform the parish into a clinic. When we left this morning we did not know exactly where we would be setting up shop, but it turns out we will be doing so in the church. Using pews, tables, and even the alter, we set up stations to triage, areas to treat, a pharmacy, and unloaded what supplies we had. There is a small glitch (our first of many, I'm sure) – our 8 boxes of medications have not yet cleared customs, despite all the appropriate paperwork we provided. We are told that everything will be available first thing in the morning for us to collect and drive to Trinidad. Tomorrow morning we will stock our pharmacy and start seeing patients…