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Friday, March 28, 2014
So yesterday was a tough day. Off we went to the clinic as usual and the aides were very happy with the evaluation form, actually one of the last things Deliris did was type a version of an evaluation and she dropped it off after we left, but that was ok, they liked some of the things I had on mine and we wanted to combine the two forms. No problem, I can type it and use Google translate and email it to Pierre and he can print it for them, or they can keep their records on the computer David is going to leave for them. Some good patient time with a bowling game. I was showing them how to adapt the bowling game for grading and for different goals, finger goals or more resistance or half kneeling, and that was good. The therapists tried every single suggestion I made and it seemed they were enjoying the feedback.
Then a group of 3 orphans came in for more educationally based goals, these are the ones that seem to have learning disabilities, and we were doing letter identification with one boy while Shantia did another game.
When the orphans were ready to leave one of the aides mixed up bowls of milk for the orphans. Deliris used to buy cereal and milk for the orphans and the therapists would give the orphans a bowl of cereal and milk before they left because Deliris thought they were not getting enough food. They get one meal in the morning and another one when school is over at like 2 or 3. This is when I hit the wall with the enormity of it all. How can we buy the cereal and the milk and get it to the clinic? We can do it today, enough to last about 2 weeks but then what about the other 50 weeks until we come back? No, we can't give the $$ to the aides to buy it, they don't have time or transportation, they are trying to work and go to school and take care of their families. No, we can't give the money to Pastor Ranell , he is too busy as well and may see another need that is more important. Everyone is sick or homeless or starving. How do you choose where the money goes?
By American standards Dave and I struggle financially a little bit, not as much as some, but we are facing downsizing our house so it will be more manageable for us and we have to think more about our purchases. Now I want to send money to Haiti for everything but where is that coming from when I am not working full time? It just hit me, before that I had been able to just look at and help the child in front of me but then I got caught up in the scope of the problem. All 28 kids in the orphanage, all 90 kids in the school, all the schools, all the orphanages, all the children on the street, in the sex trade, in the mountains in the huts, all the adults with the pain of watching their children starve, all of Haiti, all of the countries in the world like this. 75% of the world is more like this than what we are used to at home with more food than we can or should eat! We have heat, light, air conditioning, cable, comfy couches, books, e-readers and tablets, kids have more toys than they can play with and we have more clothes than we can wear. We keep buying stuff because we are trying to fill some kind of hole in our spirits. When we have a bad day at work or we are lonely or bored we go to the store and buy ourselves something and that cheers us up temporarily. At least I do. And then we have to buy stuff to hold our stuff, every store has boxes and bins and drawers and hooks and organizers so we can cram more stuff into our homes. When we are looking for a new place to live what is a deciding factor for many? How big are the closets. It was too much to think about. The guilt was overwhelming.
And there are hungry children in America too, homeless people in the street right near my house. I grew up in this neighborhood, and it used to be upper middle class but has slid downhill a little bit. One morning I was returning some books to the library and I surprised a homeless person who was sleeping in the doorway. Right outside the CVS where I pick up my prescriptions there was a homeless man last week, I bought him a water and a couple of energy bars, but how far does that go?
I couldn't take it. I bawled and bawled. Then another little girl came in for therapy, about 12 years old, with terrible spastic cerebral palsy in all 4 limbs. She walks, kind of, but she can't control her head or any part of her body or her mouth or speech, but she seems to understand everything that is going on around her. She has constant involuntary movements and tight muscles that put her limbs at risk for getting stiff in an awkward position (contractures). Her father brings here to therapy in a private car, so they must have a little more money than others, but she is reaching the level of being too big to carry her to the clinic. The car has to park outside the orphanage gate and he has to half-walk, half carry her from the car to the clinic. No shoes, they wouldn't stay on her feet. Unless a miracle happens soon she will be unable to leave her house because she cannot walk, does not have a wheelchair, and you couldn't push a wheelchair on the streets of Port au Prince anyway. It took the therapists the whole hour of massage and stretching to get her limbs straight. Then I tried to handle her a little bit and I was able to walk with her a little bit but unable to get her to sit in a chair. I was kind of thinking about a wheelchair, the ones you sometimes see at the beach with the giant wheels that roll on the sand. I had tried to get her to sit on a bench when I got tired of walking with her and there was no way she could sit on a chair at all because she cannot balance her torso and it was so uncomfortable for her. We asked the therapists what else they usually do with her and they do the FLAME program with her, working on standing with the back of the ladder chair, I will write about the FLAME program in a separate post.
Anyway at this point I had the good sense to say to Shantia, let's go home after lunch. We had a good talk with the therapists about things they needed and promised some small things like a 3 ring binder and a bathroom scale which I was sure we could get at the grocery store. Later when we went to the store we couldn't find those things so I felt terrible knowing I had to go back without bringing the things we promised. They must be used to that, to white people showing up and making promises they cannot keep. We can try to send them but it might take months for these small things to get here or they might go missing. My heart is breaking. This clinic is so good. The 12 year old has been coming to the clinic for 3 years, pretty much since they opened, and she was doing better but then she wasn't able to come for a while because she was sick and she lost ground. The clinic is so beautiful, toys, mats, the FLAME equipment, but the first walker they had seen was the one I brought. They work on the floor on these interlocking foam tiles that some people use for kids to play on. They didn't have a pillow for this little girl to rest her head on, we were trying to find anything to use. I had packed a yoga mat because I was expecting the clinic to be a bare room with a concrete floor, so at least it was much better than that. I had an inflatable travel pillow with me and I thought I might give it to the clinic but I have been sleeping on it every night, here because the pillow at the guest house is like a rock and I want it for the ride home on the plane and I am too selfish to give it to them. This is the story of Thursday that I am writing. I had to wait until Friday morning to say anything about it because I was so upset.
Today is the last day. I know I have helped these therapists somewhat this week but there is so much we weren't able to do for them, never mind all the places that have no therapists, no doctors, no nurses, no knowledge of how to care for disabled people, young and old, strokes, broken bones, CP, everything. My heart is aching. God, how can you allow this to be Your world? How can you allow Your children to suffer so? Don't You love them? How can You let them be hungry and sick from dirty water and have broken bodies and be stuck in the house, lonely sad, hurting? I have my own struggles at home, some of you know about my illness, my year, my losses, our plans to move out of our home because we can't afford it, and it is nothing compared to what these people go through every day, cooking their food (if they have any) over a charcoal fire or maybe a fire of trash because they have nothing else to burn? No microwave and no pizza delivery. Haiti has a 90-95% unemployment rate. Maybe I said that before. So people sit along the roadside, many trying to sell things to scrape out a meager existence. Some just sit with a blank look on their faces. These beautiful people, Your people, God.
I don't know how I can stop crying and go back to the clinic but I must, I must show hope and encouragement to these people so they will continue to do such good work with the one in front of them, and try not to think about all those they can't help. I know God has sent me here to help them and I cannot waste time crying about it all. So I will pray and get my butt out the door.
Dear God, help us all to get through this day. Help the therapists and children feel my love for them and believe that I will not forget them when I go home. Help them believe that one person at least cares so much. By American standards I have some financial struggles myself but help me make good decisions about what I do with my resources so there is some left for Haiti. Thank you for the opportunity to be here, for all the hugs and smiles and kisses from the children that have supported me this week. Lord, I do know and trust that you love all Your children and the Haitians believe this firmly. Maybe even though we have more material possessions, their faith is the greater gift. Help me to take some of this faith home with me. In Jesus name we pray, amen.
So yesterday was a tough day. Off we went to the clinic as usual and the aides were very happy with the evaluation form, actually one of the last things Deliris did was type a version of an evaluation and she dropped it off after we left, but that was ok, they liked some of the things I had on mine and we wanted to combine the two forms. No problem, I can type it and use Google translate and email it to Pierre and he can print it for them, or they can keep their records on the computer David is going to leave for them. Some good patient time with a bowling game. I was showing them how to adapt the bowling game for grading and for different goals, finger goals or more resistance or half kneeling, and that was good. The therapists tried every single suggestion I made and it seemed they were enjoying the feedback.
Then a group of 3 orphans came in for more educationally based goals, these are the ones that seem to have learning disabilities, and we were doing letter identification with one boy while Shantia did another game.
When the orphans were ready to leave one of the aides mixed up bowls of milk for the orphans. Deliris used to buy cereal and milk for the orphans and the therapists would give the orphans a bowl of cereal and milk before they left because Deliris thought they were not getting enough food. They get one meal in the morning and another one when school is over at like 2 or 3. This is when I hit the wall with the enormity of it all. How can we buy the cereal and the milk and get it to the clinic? We can do it today, enough to last about 2 weeks but then what about the other 50 weeks until we come back? No, we can't give the $$ to the aides to buy it, they don't have time or transportation, they are trying to work and go to school and take care of their families. No, we can't give the money to Pastor Ranell , he is too busy as well and may see another need that is more important. Everyone is sick or homeless or starving. How do you choose where the money goes?
By American standards Dave and I struggle financially a little bit, not as much as some, but we are facing downsizing our house so it will be more manageable for us and we have to think more about our purchases. Now I want to send money to Haiti for everything but where is that coming from when I am not working full time? It just hit me, before that I had been able to just look at and help the child in front of me but then I got caught up in the scope of the problem. All 28 kids in the orphanage, all 90 kids in the school, all the schools, all the orphanages, all the children on the street, in the sex trade, in the mountains in the huts, all the adults with the pain of watching their children starve, all of Haiti, all of the countries in the world like this. 75% of the world is more like this than what we are used to at home with more food than we can or should eat! We have heat, light, air conditioning, cable, comfy couches, books, e-readers and tablets, kids have more toys than they can play with and we have more clothes than we can wear. We keep buying stuff because we are trying to fill some kind of hole in our spirits. When we have a bad day at work or we are lonely or bored we go to the store and buy ourselves something and that cheers us up temporarily. At least I do. And then we have to buy stuff to hold our stuff, every store has boxes and bins and drawers and hooks and organizers so we can cram more stuff into our homes. When we are looking for a new place to live what is a deciding factor for many? How big are the closets. It was too much to think about. The guilt was overwhelming.
And there are hungry children in America too, homeless people in the street right near my house. I grew up in this neighborhood, and it used to be upper middle class but has slid downhill a little bit. One morning I was returning some books to the library and I surprised a homeless person who was sleeping in the doorway. Right outside the CVS where I pick up my prescriptions there was a homeless man last week, I bought him a water and a couple of energy bars, but how far does that go?
I couldn't take it. I bawled and bawled. Then another little girl came in for therapy, about 12 years old, with terrible spastic cerebral palsy in all 4 limbs. She walks, kind of, but she can't control her head or any part of her body or her mouth or speech, but she seems to understand everything that is going on around her. She has constant involuntary movements and tight muscles that put her limbs at risk for getting stiff in an awkward position (contractures). Her father brings here to therapy in a private car, so they must have a little more money than others, but she is reaching the level of being too big to carry her to the clinic. The car has to park outside the orphanage gate and he has to half-walk, half carry her from the car to the clinic. No shoes, they wouldn't stay on her feet. Unless a miracle happens soon she will be unable to leave her house because she cannot walk, does not have a wheelchair, and you couldn't push a wheelchair on the streets of Port au Prince anyway. It took the therapists the whole hour of massage and stretching to get her limbs straight. Then I tried to handle her a little bit and I was able to walk with her a little bit but unable to get her to sit in a chair. I was kind of thinking about a wheelchair, the ones you sometimes see at the beach with the giant wheels that roll on the sand. I had tried to get her to sit on a bench when I got tired of walking with her and there was no way she could sit on a chair at all because she cannot balance her torso and it was so uncomfortable for her. We asked the therapists what else they usually do with her and they do the FLAME program with her, working on standing with the back of the ladder chair, I will write about the FLAME program in a separate post.
Anyway at this point I had the good sense to say to Shantia, let's go home after lunch. We had a good talk with the therapists about things they needed and promised some small things like a 3 ring binder and a bathroom scale which I was sure we could get at the grocery store. Later when we went to the store we couldn't find those things so I felt terrible knowing I had to go back without bringing the things we promised. They must be used to that, to white people showing up and making promises they cannot keep. We can try to send them but it might take months for these small things to get here or they might go missing. My heart is breaking. This clinic is so good. The 12 year old has been coming to the clinic for 3 years, pretty much since they opened, and she was doing better but then she wasn't able to come for a while because she was sick and she lost ground. The clinic is so beautiful, toys, mats, the FLAME equipment, but the first walker they had seen was the one I brought. They work on the floor on these interlocking foam tiles that some people use for kids to play on. They didn't have a pillow for this little girl to rest her head on, we were trying to find anything to use. I had packed a yoga mat because I was expecting the clinic to be a bare room with a concrete floor, so at least it was much better than that. I had an inflatable travel pillow with me and I thought I might give it to the clinic but I have been sleeping on it every night, here because the pillow at the guest house is like a rock and I want it for the ride home on the plane and I am too selfish to give it to them. This is the story of Thursday that I am writing. I had to wait until Friday morning to say anything about it because I was so upset.
Today is the last day. I know I have helped these therapists somewhat this week but there is so much we weren't able to do for them, never mind all the places that have no therapists, no doctors, no nurses, no knowledge of how to care for disabled people, young and old, strokes, broken bones, CP, everything. My heart is aching. God, how can you allow this to be Your world? How can you allow Your children to suffer so? Don't You love them? How can You let them be hungry and sick from dirty water and have broken bodies and be stuck in the house, lonely sad, hurting? I have my own struggles at home, some of you know about my illness, my year, my losses, our plans to move out of our home because we can't afford it, and it is nothing compared to what these people go through every day, cooking their food (if they have any) over a charcoal fire or maybe a fire of trash because they have nothing else to burn? No microwave and no pizza delivery. Haiti has a 90-95% unemployment rate. Maybe I said that before. So people sit along the roadside, many trying to sell things to scrape out a meager existence. Some just sit with a blank look on their faces. These beautiful people, Your people, God.
I don't know how I can stop crying and go back to the clinic but I must, I must show hope and encouragement to these people so they will continue to do such good work with the one in front of them, and try not to think about all those they can't help. I know God has sent me here to help them and I cannot waste time crying about it all. So I will pray and get my butt out the door.
Dear God, help us all to get through this day. Help the therapists and children feel my love for them and believe that I will not forget them when I go home. Help them believe that one person at least cares so much. By American standards I have some financial struggles myself but help me make good decisions about what I do with my resources so there is some left for Haiti. Thank you for the opportunity to be here, for all the hugs and smiles and kisses from the children that have supported me this week. Lord, I do know and trust that you love all Your children and the Haitians believe this firmly. Maybe even though we have more material possessions, their faith is the greater gift. Help me to take some of this faith home with me. In Jesus name we pray, amen.
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