Day 5 -- Buenos Aires:  Ah, the Good Air

    Was feeling a bit sick this morning (hmmmm, Pupusa's the night before. . .), seriously debating whether to stay at the Guest House or go on with the group -- didn't want to be a burden on people trying to get important work done.  The good doctors in the group put me on Cipro, and Daysi (a Salvadoran who had just passed her physician exams the week before our arrival) bought me some anti-nausea medicine at a local Pharmacy.  Sister Eleanor led our morning reflection before we departed, and reminded us that the local people from the Citizens Roundtable were getting up at 4:00 a.m. and walking long distances to the villages each day, as volunteers with no pay.  Message received, I bucked up and went along.  

And so glad I did -- Buenas Aires, the good air.  And holy cow, we were introduced to the El Salvador version of Richard Simmons!  There was an elaborate welcoming ceremony, girls dressed in bright colored dresses, little hombres also dressed in snazzy white clothes.  The kids danced and sang for us before we began work, and were then entertained by a clown.  I gave him four of my donated hacky-sacks, which he used for juggling.  


Ninas and Ninos dance to welcome PazSalud in Buenos Aires


Ricardo Simmons in Buenos Aires

Clowning around in El Salvador
Seemed like the picture to take at the time!

The organization and work flow was the best we had all week on this day, such a contrast to the day before.  The volunteers manning the doors and lines kept everything orderly, and the mass of people waited outside a gated fence, separate from the school grounds.  


A young beauty takes the microphone to sing a song


Typical controlled chaos:  Physicians Pflug and Thuraisamy consult while Iverson performs minor surgery with Nurse Practitioner Chastain looking on.  Translator Gonzalez works with a patient in the foreground -- all in a room roughly 12 feet square!

 I picked up an interesting comment from Simone today, the Canadian who traveled with our group all week.  I asked if this is the type of delegation she's worked with before, and her answer was telling:  no, not really.  The other delegations that come to El Salvador mostly travel to listen to presentations and educational sessions, to learn or teach, but not to act.  She said this is the first one she's worked with that was actually working.  I just grinned and thought to myself:  well, that's Sister Eleanor.  She doesn't preach, she leads.  I think all of us can learn from that.  She inspires individual people by breathing life into them.  Her example does the same for PeaceHealth--the mission back home not only survives but thrives because of the people who breathe life into it each day.
I've witnessed, first hand, that fulfilling our mission doesn't mean we're always happy, chipper, motivated, or at our best.  There's no point in denying that it's a struggle at times.  Could be physically draining, emotionally stressful, or simple frustration with things not going as you think they should.  But we struggle through, we push on.  And make no mistake, my job was the easiest in this brigade.  But it was a struggle for me to come on this day, but I'm so glad I did.  My sickness was gone the moment we arrived.  The good air.  The mission continues.  


Children volunteer for the next round
of Simon Says


Sister Grace & Forrest greet customers while Tisch fills another script in our brand new Pharmacy building

 I did do some actual work beyond photography and note taking from time to time (OK, not much, but I tried J), mostly in the Pharmacy (staffed primarily by Tisch Lynch and Sister Grace).  I have a newfound respect for our Pharmacists!  Customers everywhere, several scripts being filled at once, simultaneous questions galore about medications, can't find what you're looking for, searching for equivalent drugs.  Enough said?  Man, what a job.  And just to add to the excitement, we were working out of a newly constructed Pharmacy -- the school had punched some holes in the hillside and placed bamboo sticks that were holding up some palm branches for shade, just for us.  I was just hoping we didn't have one of those famous earthquakes today!

 
A few patient stories from today:  Kalpna saw an elderly woman with a dislocated toe, shoeless, who had walked in for her visit.  I was so struck by the sight I asked permission to photograph her feet, which I felt told about as much of the story of her life as there needs to be.  As she departed, she handed Kalpna a small bag of peppers from her garden, as a thank you gift.  May have been one of the few possessions she owned.  Tears can come quickly in El Salvador.


Elizabeth Gonzalez bids adios to the thankful patient who walked to her appointment and left behind a thank-you gift

    


A picture is sometimes worth 1,000 words
Ken and his crew saw a family that all suffered from Marfan's Syndrome, a hereditary disease that causes blindness (dislocated lenses) and is accompanied by long fingers.  There was no hope for the mother to recover her sight, and only slight hope for the kids if they could make it to Hospital Rosales and afford surgery.  It struck me during this family's visit that it was often the job of the interpreters and translators (Charo, Elizabeth, Grace) to deliver bad news from the doctors -- the gift of communication often carries a weight.  The mother was caring for 4 children alone, as her husband had died.  Her story speaks of the tragedy (with access to resources, their eyesight could have been maintained), and resiliency of the Salvadoran people.


Mie Curtis assists a mother and 2 children all with Marfan's Syndrome


David Lynch goes in after 84 years of earwax!

 David Lynch treated a man complaining of poor hearing -- upon examination, he had about 84 years worth of earwax to go after.  And dive in he did -- donning his headlight for the first time all week and jumping in with the tools of the trade.  After removing about an inch worth of material and using some ear drops, voila!, the man could hear again!  Miracles of modern medicine.  

And, as Forrest Gump would say, for no particular reason, I'd like to include a few photographs that have slipped by so far:

Ken never really stopped -- had to take a quick snap-shot whenever you could
A frequent sight (pun intended!):  Jodi Pilkey and Sister Grace deliver a pair of glasses to a very thankful patient (this woman said:  "I thank God for bringing you to our country")

Salvadoran eyes are about as pretty as they come

    Everyone was exhausted at the end of this sizzling hot day, quite literally drenched in sweat from head to toe.  But also energized by the people and the embrace we saw today.  Recovering from feeling quite awful in the morning, I was just so happy to be feeling well that I hadn't felt quite so alive in a long time.  Another snippet from a U2 song (you'd think I own stock in their record company):

I'm not afraid to die
I'm not afraid to live
And when I'm flat on my back
I hope to feel like I did

    I felt like I did today. . . . .