Golf Courses and Margaritas

An older woman sat patiently beside her husband and gently wiped a cold cloth across his forehead. He sighed deeply and smiled at her as though there wasn’t a single other person in the room. For a brief moment it seemed as though he had forgotten about the pins protruding from his left leg and the cast that held his right. This is the Baptist Mission Hospital. Twelve or more beds are crammed into each of the three tiny rooms that hold only earthquake survivors. Some are seriously injured, while others are on the road to recovery, most are missing limbs and all are suffering from extreme pain. It is a harsh and painful reality that is difficult to comprehend and even harder to stand by and watch.
Long pew-like benches line the halls of the hospital where people who are waiting admission anxiously sit. Volunteer doctors and nurses scurry between rooms, grabbing meds, taking temperatures, changing dressings, prepping for surgery and cleaning the odd accident. It is a constant flurry of activity.
I had gone to the hospital with the intention of being an extra set of hands and not just an extra body in the way. Timidly I sat back for probably the first hour, doing my best to give a smile to a suffering patient or stumble my way through Creole with a family member. I was shy, timid and completely out of my element.
In the process of running prescriptions, getting blankets and doing any other kind of errand that needed to be done I received so much encouragement from the medical staff. I readily admitted to not having any medical background in which they replied, “that’s wonderful, we need people like you!” Definitely not the response I expected.
Before long patients were starting to call me by name. Some just wanted to hold my hand or play with my hair. There were many times throughout the day where I just thanked God that he had saved these people physically and prayed that they would be saved spiritually.
Samaritans Purse plays a big part in the Baptist Mission Hospital. Volunteers from that organization are often found in the halls and by the bedsides of patients. I was doing my best to comfort a young woman while her pain medication kicked in when a couple stopped at the bed beside me. An older woman spoke softly to the Haitian pastor that stood next to her, both clutching their bibles looking intently down at the man in bed. It was obvious that his leg was a casualty of the quake, being that it was removed just above the knee. He was a smaller, quiet man who I hadn’t really noticed up to this point. He had been sleeping most of the morning and had no visitors that I could recall. When I had taken his temperature earlier in the day, he sat with his eyes closed, almost as if to block out the reality that was going on around him. Now the older woman asked in English if she could speak to him for a little bit. The Haitian Pastor at her side translated and they were both invited to sit down. I was doing my best to not eavesdrop but my curiosity kept getting the best of me. Every so often I would look over to see what it was they were talking about. It took me a while to figure out that the older woman was quietly telling this man about Jesus Christ. I wasn’t certain as to whether or not this man was a believer but could tell that the words this woman spoke were ones of comfort and hope. After about a half an hour I heard her ask him if he wanted to ask Jesus in his heart. Before the Haitian Pastor even finished translating, this man who had been bed ridden for weeks emphatically said in English “Yes!” It was there in the room that held 11 other patients and a slew of other strangers that this man gave his life over to Christ. As he followed along in prayer my eyes started to fill up with tears. As I looked around the room, patients nearby closed their eyes and lifted their hands saying quietly “Mesi Jezi”, Thank you Jesus! Even in their own pain and sorrow they knew they were witness to another life saved. Mesi Jezi!
I have to tell you about a woman at the hospital named Mimi. She is an 87 year old woman who shows up to work as a nurses aid every day. She truly is an inspiration and a real witness to what love and sacrifice really are. I would be surprised if Mimi stood over 5 feet tall and weighed more than 110 pounds. Throughout the entire day she stayed busy changing bedding, pushing wheelchairs, and feeding anyone that was unable to do it themselves. She would catch my eye and give me a grin that literally stretched from ear to ear. If she spoke English she didn’t let me know but instead would whisper words of encouragement in Creole to me or a nearby patient. By the age of 87 most people feel that they have served their time and that it is their turn to be waited on. Not this Haitian lady. I caught her lifting an older gentleman clear out of his wheelchair and into his bed. This man was almost twice her size, had both of his legs in casts and was completely unable to assist her in anyway. I would never have even asked this frail, grey haired woman to hold a gallon of water for me, let alone pick up and place this crippled man into bed. Before I could get over to where she was, she had set him down and was proceeding to change the gentlemans soiled underpants. At this point she was attempting to lift him with one arm and shimmy his clothing on with the other. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Had I not been there I have no doubt in my mind that she would have completed the entire task successfully and without complaint. Even with my help she insisted that she lift the man while I dealt with his clothes. I smile just thinking about her and marvel at her unending energy. I hope that my retirement looks a little more like Mimis and a little less like golf courses and margaritas.
When I left the hospital I felt like I was leaving behind family and friends. There wasn’t a single nurse, doctor or patient who hadn’t embraced me, whether it was physically or emotionally. Everyone there was so focused and willing to work together for a common cause. Most had come as strangers from all over the world but ended up leaving as family. They are all in the business of saving lives and were willing to work around the clock to do so. It was an incredible experience that I will hold in my heart forever.