Interesting, this thing called life. As we live it, it seems different than when we reflect back on it. I had begun my blog while on a medical mission to Honduras. I was on Day 2 when I last wrote. Then, everything changed. I was not able to fit in the time needed to blog, my email crashed while there, and my basic communications became difficult. I knew that documenting the day-to-day happenings was not going to be a pliable option while in Honduras, and I patiently waited to get back to the US. This delay was valuable to assist me in understanding what had actually occurred while on this medical mission.
I'll start with Monday - Friday. Each day, I awoke to coffee that was already made (for all the volunteers) by David. He would place my cup under the machine in a ready position for me to easily pour it, nearby he placed a plate, fork/knife with the peanut butter. This coffee machine was quite large, as what began as a nice gesture for me to have coffee early in the morning, soon became a way of life for the volunteers as well. The volunteers had been told we all would be responsible for the making of the coffee, and David, unknowingly, took that on. He would set his alarm at a unusually early time (like 3 am) to get up and make sure all the early birds heading to the surgery center (to work) had coffee. Everyone loved it, and not many people knew it was him that had made it. It was just "made" already. David laid low, and just kept his ritual to himself.
Each day, I was to be one of the OR Circulating Nurses at One World Surgery Center. We learned at Orientation on Sunday that there would be 3 OR's running each day. And that's just what I did each day, the same work that I do on any other given day in the US. This time, it is for the Honduran people. The "general" volunteers would sign up each evening, on a sign-up sheet after dinner, to pick a duty that suited them. There were things like making tortillas (hand-made, mind you), cooking breakfast or lunch for everyone, cleaning up the kitchen, taking the trash out at the surgery center (which had two parts to it, 1) take it from inside to outside, or 2) take it from outside straight up a steep incline to the place where they burn their trash), caring/visiting the children, working on the farm or in the garden, working in the surgery center either keeping the break room clean, cleaning the OR's between cases, sterile processing work, observing OR cases, and many other duties. The list is too long to give, but you get the idea. Those workers who were clinical had their assignments at the surgery center and were there until the day was done (in their department) and/or all cases were completed. Typically I would be there at least 10 hours in the OR, but on several occasions I was there longer. This is what we were there for, and it made sense to work all we could while we were there. What did David do, you ask? His Theme was: I'll do whatever nobody wants to do. And he did. He would wait til everyone else signed up, then tell Maria he'd do what is needed or left. He mostly ended up cooking breakfast and cleaning up each morning, then working on the farm (shoveling poop, as they are big on composting), or trash duty at the surgery center. There was one day he observed in the OR - which he rather enjoyed. It was a lot of physical work for everyone.
The best part was what we came for: to help the Honduran people. We had surgery cases scheduled each day intended to improve the life of the individual. Let's say that a man had a torn rotator cuff in his shoulder, and now he can't work - or a knee injury or a hernia or or or or. These are surgeries that are performed and can get them back to work, as well as feeling better and having a higher quality of life in general. These are people without access to health care in general due to many factors like financial assistance or location. One World Surgery Center provides the surgery free of charge. Although, there are many people (who have surgery) who ask what they can do in return. There are many options for them, if they desire, and many of them want to give back. So they can come back and perform work around the Ranch or some other barter option, if they so desire. This is not forced or encouraged, and is only if a patient wishes to do so in the future. This is important to note that the Honduran culture is giving and kind. Yes, the violence and crime is out of control, BUT the "regular" people are gracious and grateful. As I type this, I see their faces. They are quiet in the environment of a language they do not know. Even though we have many translators available to assist, they are surrounded by volunteers, mostly from the US. The Honduran people sit quietly, and wait patiently. They do not complain. At all. They are unsure of what is about to happen, what the process is, and how things will be after their surgery. They receive little if any healthcare in their life, so this is a big shock to them. They are scared, and are surrounded by a culture of people they do not know. They use their fingerprint, instead of a signature because they can't read or write. Yet, they trust us. They trust us to take care of them and help them get better. It's a big responsibility and we do not take it lightly. We all step up to the plate to use our individual skills and as a team, come together to help those who so desperately need it. Everything else aside, all other agendas people bring with them, the mission is to help the Honduran people. And that we did. Each one of them have a story, they have a life, they have goals and dreams. They are just like us, except they live in a world of poverty, crime and violence. I'm going to stop here a minute and say something to that broad statement I just wrote. There are parts of Honduras that are "safer", or more "normal", or more like a city in the US. But for the most part, there's danger lurking. A armed security officer outside a surgery center is mandatory in Honduras. So, it's just apples and oranges when it comes to explaining how things are in that part of the country.
Geographically, we flew into Tegucigalpa, Honduras, which is the capital city. It was about an hour or so bus ride to NPH Ranch. **Note: You can Google NPH Ranch or One World Surgery Center and there's information out there about both. They are on the same site physically, but surprisingly, only minimally connected ** On the bus ride there, we saw many things. A guy on a motorcycle, with a women on the back hanging onto him with one hand, and carrying/holding her baby with the other hand. Don't even ask about a helmet. (And people give me a hard time when I let my dog ride with me on mine). We saw the horses, donkeys and dogs (on the side of the road) with their ribs protruding. We saw what it looks like to live in a house made of packing crates, and people (kids) carrying things along the side of the road that would make no sense to us - but perfect sense to them. It's basically an indescribable thing. It's a movie that now plays in my head regularly. It's a puzzle I'm trying to put together with no pieces that fit. Hence, why I cannot still make it all "fit" inside my head, which has lead me to the inability to blog like I normally would. There's so much to write - yet so much that I cannot put together words that do it justice. It just all seems like chaotic noise without a melody as I write it. I've given in to the notion that it's all going to be willy-nilly on my blog. I have so much to tell.....but I'm struggling to express it, because I can't settle it all in my mind. So, I'll keep throwing words and things together so that you can try and piece together the parts of this puzzle as we go along. My experience in Honduras is more conducive for a book, rather than a blog.
My future blogs will be about: 1) the volunteers and their activities, 2) special and certain activities that occurred while we were there, 3) the drama of being with a group of 60 people all with a similar mission, and 3) the Children's Home set-up, 4) David, and much more. This is my start, and I needed to throw a starting point out there. As I so appropriately titled it, the reflection is still happening in my head. The looking back, the reevaluation of what I thought happened and what actually happened. I think this is what happens when "set" expectations are met with real life. Curve ball, my friend.
There's two things I know for sure:
1) I used to always think I was grateful. For my family/friends, my life, my well-being, my job, pretty much everything. Now, it's like I've moved to a new level of gratitude that I didn't know existed. Kind of like a butterfly unicorn......something you didn't know existed, but does. My new level of gratitude is beyond words. It's a new feeling, a heightened sense of knowing something I never knew before. Hearing about something - and then seeing it - can translate into two completely different things, hence the life people lead in Honduras (and many parts of the world) became new and different when I saw it first hand, sitting in front of me, holding my hand for comfort, feeling their struggle, and seeing it in their eyes. My smile came naturally to them, my touch on their hand and not wanting to let go, and the privilege God granted me to be there, and tossed me into a place I've never been. Literally and emotionally. I thought I was grateful in life, but my new level of gratitude has me wondering.....is there more I'm missing? And I'm sure now that the answer is Yes.
2) Another take-away for me was that each person who came on this mission had their own unique and special experience. Everyone looked at it through their own eyes, had feelings only they will know, and walked away from this with their own evaluation. We each had our own special experience. No story will be the same. We may have similarities in what we experienced, but the overall take-away for each of us is idiosyncratic and distinct. Fascinating considering we all went with the same goal. Or at least most people there had the same goal. DunDunDunnnnn.
As I sigh a big sigh of relief, I've now been able to start my blogging process for this trip. I'm ready to open the vault and let the therapy, I mean words, come out. It is very cathartic, no doubt. The chatter in my mind is busy busy, and I'll take them and put them into words over the next few days. And we'll take this journey together.
Did I mention how beautiful, mountainous and breathtaking Honduras is? Your gorgeous, Honduras, you really are.
Much love,
C
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