This is a story about how precious any and all material possessions are to Haitians. I noticed when I was in Madame Dossa's tent one day that she had not one, but two wheelchairs in her tent. She keeps them tied together. When we do therapy she refuses to be out of sight distance from her tent. She does not trust that things will not be taken from her.
We have a 13 year old girl, Kevelyne, in the hospital. She has crush injuries to both her legs. Her right leg is in a long leg cast and she has an external fixator on her right leg. An external fixator is a device used mostly by Europeans to stabilize a fracture. It consists of external screws that go through the bone and they protrode from the skin and are attached to metal halos to maintain the screws positions. It's actually pretty cumbersome and can make mobility difficult. But I am told that they are the quickest way to fixate a serious fracture with decreased risk for infection. Well anyway, Kevelyne, is non-weight bearing on both of her legs and we have started getting her out of bed and into a wheelchair. She has been here in bed for a while and will be here for at least 5 more weeks receiving IV antibiotics. She is unable to bend her knees and when she is in a wheelchair, her legs need to be elevated. Wheelchairs are a high commodity here. The wheelchair she has right now does not have any leg rests, so we are supporting her legs with a crutch under her cushion on one side and a piece of wood under the other. Not very comfortable I would imagine.
I notice that one of the wheelchairs in Mme. Dossa's tent has the components we need for Kevelyne. I tell the team we need to get that chair. I had no idea at the time what kind of drama we were getting into with this situation. We decide to have one of the translators, Burton, ask Mme. Dossa for the chair. Keep in mind, these chairs are not hers, they belong to the hospital and she never even uses this particular chair. Burton explained the situation that this was for a little girl who really needed it. She listens and says, "I cannot make this decision, you need to speak with my daughter." When the daughter arrives, Burton has a very lengthy discussion with her, and she says, "I cannot make this decision, I need to speak with my brother."
Later that afternoon, I arrive at Dossa's tent because we are taking her to the prosthetic clinic to get her new leg. I notice that the wheelchair that we were requesting is no longer in the tent. Initially, I thought that she had decided to relinquish it. Oh, I was wrong. I still don't know exactly what happened to that chair, but we are quite certain her son came and took it home.
We were all upset about this, especially since we were trying to be graceful with her and her family. We devised a plan because we do not want the other wheelchair to disappear from the hospital. Like I said, there are few, and it is not right for her to have two wheelchairs, a walker, and a prosthetic. So when Samuel and I give her physical therapy this morning, we have her put her brand new prosthetic on and we walk her away from the tent. As her back is facing the tent, Burton removes the wheelchair from the tent. When we return from walking, Mme. Dossa is clearly upset that her wheelchair is gone. I do not understand a word that she is ranting, but I know it's not good, and I know that she is not praising God this time. Before we leave her we apologize that the chair is gone and that we will keep our eyes open for it.
We were not anticipating that her daughter would then hospital stalk us, questioning the location of the wheelchair. She would literally stand there for 30 minutes as we treated another patient. We knew we had to address the issue. I thought it would be a good idea if we reminded them that the chairs were not hers to keep and that we would give her one to keep if they would return the other chair. I imagined a peaceful exchange. Again, I was wrong. Samuel and I approached the tent, and the Creole dialogue quickly became heated. Samuel, one of the Haitian rehab techs we are training, is normally very soft spoken and laid back. He became very passionate in this exchange. This was an ordeal that lasted the entire day. In the end, Kevelyne never got the chair she needed, and we were forced to take the chair that was quite frankly nicer and much more appropriate for Mme. Dossa away from her. Kinda sad, nobody won in this situation, and it could have been a happy ending if only Mme. Dossa was willing to give up one of the chairs to someone else in need instead of being deceptive. Franz, another Haitian rehab tech, made a good point, he said the family wants every possession they can even if they can't use it because they will sell it.
I felt so helpless in this situation because I could not contribute in the dialogue, therefore I could not attempt to reason with the patient or family. Don't get me wrong, Dossa is still one of my favorite people in this journey, but I was disappointed in the outcome of this story due to the choices Dossa and her family made. Especially since Dossa seems to be a strong Christian.
Well, I guess we will see if Dossa will participate with therapy tomorrow, or if she's still angry. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment